The Hunger Games: Book Four - How it Might Have Been ... Gale.

Page Six

Peeta

Present Day

When the bag is ripped from my head, the sudden harsh illumination of daylight burns my eyes. I'm forced to squint for a moment, my other senses on hyperalert. The smell is still there; the overpowering stench of nostalgia emitting from the rose. Different layers of sounds around me; doors shutting - this room sounds hollow and high up, like an empty office space - and hovercrafts far below. The sound of civilisation is somewhat of a relief - at least there are other humans around. But something still feels terribly wrong. I wait for it to hit me that same as I wait for my sight to return. 

My eyes open; I realize what's missing. My wedding ring. 

The bareness of my finger screams at me as my vision focuses. Suddenly, my wedding ring isn't missing anymore. It's hovering in front of my face, pinched between the thumb and forefinger of my kidnapper. I can see the engravement, the sacred words only my wife and I know, crystal clear in my vision. My kidnapper is standing right before me and I can almost feel the malicious smile coming from his face. Through the circle of the ring, the ring that gave me promises, that kept me whole on dark, reminiscent nights, the ring that completed everything I had fought for and promised forever with it, is an object so chillingly eerie I cannot help but shiver.

The circle of my wedding ring is a frame for the white rose pinned to my kidnapper's suit.

Suddenly the ring is whipped from my line of sight and I'm forced to look up. My hands are bound behind me and I'm sitting on a chair that is electrified somehow; I can feel the power pulsing through it below me. My neck is craned and I finally meet his eyes. I'm shocked, though I don't show it. I've become good at hiding emotion; I had to learn how to do it, for my children. For our children. For Oenothera and Kuwai. Ever since my name was pulled from that bowl, the very first time, I became good at hiding emotion. Being on TV, being watched by everyone, being scrutinized by the girl I loved who was oblivious to it, it taught me lessons. One was to hide emotion. The other was to never let anything you want in life escape, no matter who's in your way. Right now, someone is in my way. But it's not who I first assumed. It's not President Snow. We have no President now. But this person obviously has unwavering, unquestionable authority. 

He slips the ring onto his finger, gazing at it with false admiration. It twinkles in the sunlight, though slightly tarnished. I've never taken it off - not until now. And as I face this man who wears a malevolent smile and my wedding ring, I promise myself that he will pay for whatever he's done to my family.

He has but one thing to say to me - one thing that re-enforces my vow wholly.

"Katniss Mellark? Hah. Not for long."