I wake up startled, surprised that I actually slept through the night. Surprised that I actually made it through the night. I become aware of the pain in my upper thigh – the pain that almost drowns out all the others – and moan in spite of myself. I instinctively reach out for my leg, but this is not a very brilliant idea; the sudden movement after having been still for so long sends dagger-like pains trough my entire body. I bite my tongue to keep from screaming; the last thing I need right now is calling attention to myself while I'm in this condition.
I slowly sit up – wincing as this simple movement makes the world spin – and take a deep breath to steady myself. I stare at my swollen leg. I think about inspecting it but reconsider as soon as I try pulling off my pants and a piercing pain engulfs me, making me dizzy.
It's no use. There's no possible chance that I'll survive this. The water puddles around me will keep me going for so long. But I can't hunt. I can't fend for myself. And there's also the fact that I can't treat my wounded leg. It ought to get infected – I am all covered in mud after all. And I think Cato cut me deep, considering the extreme pain any minimal movement causes me.
I look up the sky. The sun is almost at the center. Wow. How long was I out? And is it just me or is it really hot in here? My first thought is that the gamemakers have been messing with the temperature, but the heat reaches deeper than the sun would. I feel as if my insides are burning. Fever. My leg must be in a really bad condition. And I guess the stings must be adding up to that too.
As I'm dwelling up on my misfortune I hear what could be literally considered my only hope: Claudius Templesmith announcing that there can now be two winners as long as they're from the same District.
Two winners. Two winners. I try to comprehend these two simple words, but they are so absurdly impossible that I have to repeat Claudius's message over and over in my head before I can understand them, believe them. I should feel happy; I should feel like I now stand a chance. But I can't be sure. Katniss probably hates me now. She must think that I betrayed her and I can't go looking for her to explain. My only hope is if she looks for me. But why would she do that when she thinks that I tried to kill her? Well, there goes my only hope, I think resigned.
I slowly lay back again, instantly becoming part of the scenery as soon as my mud-covered body slightly sinks into the mud pool I'm laying on. I let my mind wonder, wonder to the core of my existence.
"Katniss", I whisper her name, forgetting the stung, swollen bump in my cheek. I wince, and not just because now my face hurts too. I can feel a greater pain now. Inside of me. Katniss. Where is she? What is she thinking now that she knows we both could win? Is she alright? I laughed darkly, emphasizing the pain in my face. No one is alright in the hunger games. I guess the right question would be: is she alive? I hope so. I couldn't bear it if she didn't exist anymore. There would be no sense in breathing if she was gone…
The cool mud feels good on my blazing skin, and eventually the fever mercifully pulls me back into unconsciousness. My dream centers on Katniss, of course. I'm not sure where we are. I can't notice anything besides her beauty. She's wearing the costume Cinna made for her for the parade. The flames engulf her, emphasizing her features. She looks so beautiful. She's smiling, smiling at me. Oh, how I wish I wouldn't wake up from this dream.
"Peeta", she calls to me. "Where are you?" Her voice is so clear, so real. Too real. I open my eyes; the sun is not high above me anymore.
"Peeta!" She calls again.
My heart thuds painfully in my chest. She's here. She's looking for me. She's here. My brain is still foggy from having slept so long that I don't know whether the fact that she's looking for me is a good thing or not. Maybe, since she doesn't know that I'm wounded, she's looking for me to become allies. Maybe she just wants to kill me. I don't care. I'm going to die either way.
"Here to finish me off sweetheart?" I intended to say it sarcastically, but my voice didn't have enough force.
"Peeta? Where are you?"She was silent for a while and, as she looked for me, she came to literally stand on top of me without noticing.
I didn't open my eyes. "Well, don't step on me". Somehow, there was now humor in my voice.
She gasps as I open my eyes and I can't help but laugh. Her voice was full of surprise and even relief. She jumps off of me.
"Close your eyes again", she orders. I do so and she gasps again. "Iguess all those hours decorating cakes paid off", she muses.
I smile. "Yes, frosting. The final defense of the dying", I say sarcastically. But it's true. If it hadn't been for the mud concealing me from the killers I would have been dead for sure.
But right now I don't want to think about this. I'm just so happy to see Katniss again before I die. What else could I ask of life as my last wish?
