Out Of The Games

Chapter One

             "Peeta! Answer the door. I'm feeding Prim." I yelled through the kitchen door. I walked towards my beautiful blue eyed baby. I picked her up and put her on her highchair and started feeding her. "-have enough time." A stranger's voice filled the house he sounded in panic. That panicking voice sent waves of panic through me. This was the second time I've heard someone panic within 7 years. The first time was when Peeta panicked when I gave birth to Cienna, my first born son. He is five years old now. The voice was getting closer. I scooped the last bit of yellow grimy baby food into Prim's mouth. She swallowed it without any trouble. The voice was in the kitchen now. I picked up the napkin and wiped Prim's mouth.

             "Katniss Everdeen" A voice said sternly from behind me. I turned to be met by a day of cold and grey storm. His eyes were the coldest grey eyes I've ever made contact with. He was dangerous. From his cold grey eyes to the scars peeking from under his collar. I didn't need people like him in my life now or ever. "It's Mellark now." I reply. "Obviously now," he said waving his overly muscular arm around the room briefly pausing at Prim's small baby face. "Not everyone knows you've gotten married. Especially since you live here at the leftovers of the districts." "Thank you very much, Trent. However, we like this district ...or what is left of it.' Peeta said stepping in between me and this 'Trent' guy. "You are right Peeta, what's left of it. There is hardly anyone living here besides this family, Haymitch (or whatever is left of him), and the Carters." Trent said walking around the room circling us like a predator waiting for its' prey making sure we aren't a threat, and just like that I was back on the car towards the capitol. 

                Flashback: "Stand over here. Both of you," says Haymitch, nodding to the middle of the room. We obey and he circles us, prodding us like animals at times, checking our muscles, examining our faces. "Well, you're not entirely hopeless. Seem fit. And once the stylists get hold of you, you'll be attractive enough." Peeta and I don't question this. The Hunger Games isn't a beauty contest, but the best-looking tributes always seem to pull more sponsors. "All right, I'll make a deal with you. You don't interfere with my drinking, and I'll stay sober enough to help you," says Haymitch. "But you have to do exactly what I say." It's not much of a deal but still a giant step forward from ten minutes ago when we had no guide at all. "Fine," says Peeta. "So help us," I say. "When we get to the arena, what's the best strategy at the Cornucopia for someone —" "One thing at a time. In a few minutes, we'll be pulling into the station. You'll be put in the hands of your stylists. You're not going to like what they do to you. But no matter what it is, don't resist," says Haymitch. "But —" I begin. "No buts. Don't resist," says Haymitch. He takes the bottle of spirits from the table and leaves the car. As the door swings shut behind him, the car goes dark. There are still a few lights inside, but outside it's as if night has fallen again. I realize we must be in the tunnel that runs up through the mountains into 59 the Capitol. The mountains form a natural barrier between the Capitol and the eastern districts. It is almost impossible to enter from the east except through the tunnels. This geographical advantage was a major factor in the districts losing the war that led to my being a tribute today. Since the rebels had to scale the mountains, they were easy targets for the Capitol's air forces. Peeta Mellark and I stand in silence as the train speeds along. End of flashback. 

                But I wasn't standing in the car anymore. I was home with my family. I was done with all of that. They were the past and I wasn't going back because a huge muscular guy shows up at my door circling me and my husband. I look up at my husband, he was looking at me with a worried expression. I never get flashbacks when people are present I usually try to compose myself in front of guest and it's not like there are much guests much the less people that are living here. However I was fine with living here. I look at him and I could still see the scars that created me and him the scars that we both went through. He moves towards me and holds my hand because that all I need now to know that I am not alone. He turns to Trent straightening his shoulders, "Maybe you should come another time, Trent." Prim starts crying. I let go of Peeta's hand and walk towards my one year old baby. I pick her up cradling her baby face to my shoulder walking towards the door leaving but not before turning around and saying" Or maybe not come at all."