Catching Fire: Peeta's POV

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

I sit in my chair in shock. My body turns to ice. My arms and legs go numb, and I can't move. Has the challenge for this Quarter Quell really been written for seventy-five years? Or is it a punishment to Katniss and I? But, why would they punish the other victors? Is it because of the other Districts' uprisings? There is nothing I can do though. I have to do what the Capitol says. There is no choice.

Then, I remember what Snow said, "as a reminder to the rebels." That's Katniss and me for starting the uprising. "Even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of Capital" was the next part of Snow's speech. Victors are the strongest. After you win you are out of the reaping for life. Now that's been changed. The strongest because they've escaped the arena and don't have to struggle, as rich as anyone in the Capitol. Victors are the hope when there is none. Now the Capitol wants twenty-three of the Victors killed. Katniss will be the one to survive. I'll make sure if it, and it will be my last act.

It's a good thing I won last year. It would make it so much harder to have to see the other Victors die if I actually knew them. I can't imagine what's running through their minds right now. How they have to kill their friends? How are they going to die?

I get out of the chair and run to the door. I just barely manage to close the door behind me in my haste to exit. I run to Haymitch's and pound on the door before growing impatient and letting myself inside.

"Well, boy. Did the math?" I hear as I run into the kitchen. Haymitch is holding an unopened bottle of liquor.

"Please, let me go back into the arena with Katniss," I blurt out. "Don't volunteer if I get picked. Please, I have to protect her. I love her, Haymitch. She means everything to me."

"I know you do, son," he says sitting down at the table.

"Please, Haymitch. You owe me for helping Katniss last time. Pay me back by letting me be there with her. Please," I beg.

"I don't know, Peeta," he says taking a long drink of his liquor.

"If you get picked I'm just going to volunteer," I threaten.

"I know. There is nothing I can do. You're going back with Katniss no matter what," he says looking out the window. "Good luck, boy."

I don't say anything and turn back to the door. I make my way back to my house. Shutting the door, I slowly walk up to my room and slide down to the floor, slipping into an uneasy sleep.

I wake up the next day on the floor, curled into a ball. My arms are sore from being wrapped around my legs all night, and my legs are stiff from being curled up into my chest.

But, I can't sit here and dwell all day. I need to move a bit with my life and act like it hasn't affected me. I get dressed and fix my hair. Before leaving the house, I call Effie.

"Peeta! Oh, I can't believe the news it's just so tragic," she whimpers into the phone.

"Yeah," I mutter. "I'm actually calling with a question, Effie."

"Oh, of course, Peeta. Anything."

"I was wondering if you could send me the tapes of all the living Victors Games."

"Yes, I'll start on it right away. Why do you want the tapes?"

"I want to size up the competition."

"Oh, yes. Good plan. I'll send them right away. . . and Peeta, I'm sorry about this."

"Don't be, Effie. It's not your fault," I say hanging up the phone.