The Hunger Games - I'm Still Burning

Chapter 14

The air is stifling tonight. The sun's heat has worked its way into every crack and crevice of this house, sealing us in this oven-like room. The open window is doing nothing to relieve it, in fact it's probably only adding to it.

I sigh and whip back the sheets, frustrated that sleep is refusing to make its appearance. I've tried every sleep position there is possible and none of them seem to be easing the ache that has started in my lower back. The baby's not helping with it's constant kicking. The closer I get to my due date; the more movement I feel. Especially at night. It's like it's playing a game almost, the minute I lay down it begins to really come to life. Twisting, turning, summersaulting. Like it's trying to break free.

36 weeks. 8 months.

I'm 4 weeks away from meeting this person. This person that is half me and half Peeta. I've never been this afraid of meeting anyone.

I lift up my hair, allowing what ever cool air there is to sweep over the back of my neck. Peeta's on the other side of the bed, knowing that if we both held each other like we usually did tonight, we would both melt. I shouldn't wake him but it's lonely feeling like I'm the only one up and alert in District 12 right now.

"Peeta?"

I don't even try to sit up, the effort would only make me hotter and more uncomfortable. I get no response from Peeta though and I silently curse him for being such a deep sleeper.

I turn my head to get a better look at him, wondering if I could do the whole accidental 'hitting him in my sleep' trick. This tends to be the most effective method, leaving me very much guilt free. But when I catch a glimpse of his face in the dim moonlight, it makes the hairs on my arm stand up.

His skin is pale and covered in sweat, which I'd think was normal if it wasn't accompanied by the shaking and the tenseness of his body. His chest rises and falls at a rapid pace, his breath passing quickly between his lips. I don't move, batting away at the panic that's fighting to ascend in my throat.

Calm down, it's just a nightmare.

Is it just a nightmare though? What ever it is, I can't just leave him trapped there alone.

"Peeta?" I say. It's supposed to sound calm and even but it comes out wavering and croaky.

His head twitches slightly and that's when the murmuring starts.

"Peeta, wake up."

I push myself into a sitting position, the adrenalin taking away the struggle that my bump usually provides. I grip onto Peeta's shoulder, gently shaking it, hoping that it'll be enough to reach him. I ignore the words 'mutt' and 'traitor' as they spill out of his mouth, knowing that if I can just get to him, I can drag him out before the flashback completely takes over.

"Peeta, please wake up," I beg, shaking him as hard as I dare. All I want is for him to open his eyes. If he opened them he would see me, not the me that's currently haunting his dreams but the real me.

His accusations only get louder though. I'm torn between getting as far away as I can from him and sticking by his side, even at the risk of getting hurt.

"Peeta, wake up!" I shout, in one final attempt.

His eyes open and I wish they hadn't. Even though the light is limited, no one could mistake the black that has commandeered his irises.

"Peeta?" I whisper.

I go to stroke his arm, when his eyes latch onto me.

"Mutt!" he yells, bringing up his hand. I try to dodge it but all too soon a stinging sensation has spread across my face.