The Hunger Games; Peeta

~Fighters?~

For a few seconds, we stare in utter silence at the gruesome sight before us. One word goes through my mind. 'Ew'.

Hay itch is trying to rise out of the pool of bile, That is mostly spirits, and makes my nose feel like it's rotting. I glance at Katniss, and then back to Haymitch. A thought flashes through me, in the games, he is our sole depender. Like it or not, we need him.

The same thought must pass through Katniss, because when I reach forward and take one of his arms he takes the other, and together we help him to his feet.
"I-I tripped?" Queries the man, "Smells...Bad."

I sigh internally.
"We are going to get you back to your room, ok? And clean you up." I say in the same manner you would talking to a small child who grazed their knee.

He half-carry, half-drag our mentor back to his over sized compartment. We make our way to the (also huge) bathroom and haul him into the bathtub. I turn the shower on him, yet U don't think he notices.

I turn around and see Katniss' slightly green face.
"It's ok." I say "I'll take it from here."
I may have imagined it, but I think I see the flash of a smile flash across her face. "All right." She replies, "I can send one of the Capitol people to help?"

"No." I say firmly, not even needing to think about it. The idea of making other human beings do my dirty work for me makes me feel Ill.
"I don't want them."

She nods, somewhat knowingly, and swiftly leaves. In her eyes are, thankfulness.I thinks she understands that I wouldn't want anyone to have to do my things for me, no matter how...gross. I've seen this in her eyes once before, on the night with the bread.

My mother has given me the task of baking the bread for the next day, and I was about twelve, maybe thirteen. I watched my mother leave the bakery and go and yell at some poor little girl who was searching for food in our bins. She was skin and bones, pale as anything. When I saw who she was I knew that I needed to do something.

And so, I purposely burned the bread. My mother beat me fiercely, but I didn't care. I needed to look after her. To protect her.

My mother pushed me outside to chuck the bread to the pigs, and I began to tear of little crumbs as she re-entered the bakery. As soon as she was out of my eyeline, I looked straight at Katniss and threw her the bread. She was huddled under a tree in the pouring rain, and when she got the bread her whole face lit up, and I felt truly happy. Happy, that I'd made someone else happy.

I begin the difficult task of cleaning Haymitch. I strip his clothes off of him, leaving him in only his underwear, and begin to rinse him down. It takes quite a while to get the vomit out of his matted hair but by the time the task is completed and I change him into pyjamas, eventually tucking him into bed, he looks like a new person.

I strolled back to my compartment, and get into the shower. I'd heard about showers, but never actually seen one. Living in the centre of 12, we had had an indoor bathroom, but only a rusted bath. This shower was out of this world, the amount of buttons and features seemed overwhelming.

After quite a struggle I find a calm water that smells of strawberries, and sink down to the ground. Then the tears come.

I cry for my family who won't ever see me again, for Prim because she would be so worried about her sister, For Katniss because this event would be the most traumatic thing I believe a child could go through, and selfishly for myself. Knowing I would never come back to 12, aside from in a wooden box, labeled "Peeta Mellark."

Eventually I prized myself up and put on some soft, silken pyjamas and sunk into the bed. I let the train rock me into a dreamless sleep, and serenity wash over me.

"Up up up!" Is the first thing I hear in the morning, coming from the unique voice of Effie Trinket. "It's going to be a big big day!"

I sit up groggily and force myself awake. A dim Grey light fills my room as I pull on some clean clothes. We cannot be far from the Capitol now.
Not far from death.

I make my way to the dining car and sit at the table, which is again laden with delicacies. I pick up a plain roll. Haymitch soon joins me.

"Thank you." He mutters "For helping me."

I'm a little startled that he even remembered, I'm about to say no problem or something, but he soon cuts me off.

"You like her, don't you." He states.

I feel my face flush bright red, and I look down at my hands.

"It was nice of you, not to make her deal with- this." He gestures to himself, laughing.

Im again about to say something but then Katniss enters the room, wearing the same striking clothes as yesterday.

"Sit! Sit down!" Says Haymitch, waving her over. Enormous platters of food surround us, and I wondered briefly where it all goes if no one eats it.

I hand Katniss a mug of hot chocolate, wary on Haymitch's eye. I figured she never had it before.

"They call it hot chocolate." I say. "It's good."

I watch her take a sip, and then proceed to drain the cup. I feel the butterflies in my stomach again, knowing I'd shown her something that made her happy, if only briefly.

We proceed to eat in near silence, with only the few comments from Effie nearby. I watch Haymitch ignore the food and knock back a bottle of something that smells so foul it most be a spirit.

I sigh to myself. I didn't think we had much of a chance to begin with, but seeing this makes me realise we, or at least I, don't have any,

"So, you are supposed to give us advice." States Katniss, like it's no big deal.

"I've got some. Stay alive." He says solemnly, then bursts out laughing. I feel a hatred storm inside me. I glance at Katniss and her face is a storm of anger, but her eyes flit away as soon as they look at me.

"That's very funny." I say. Suddenly, in a surge of courage, I knock over his glass sending the foul-smelling liquid dripping down the dining cart. "But not to us."
Haymitch looks at me a moment, and proceeds to strike his fist hard into my jaw, knocking me from my chair to the ground.

From the strange have I'm in I watch Katniss pick up a knife and drive it into the table between his fingers.

"That is mahogany!" Comes the shrill voice of Effie.

"What's this then? Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?"