Peeta Mellark- What is left?

District 1

"DO YOU WANT MORE PUBLIC LASHINGS, MELLARK?" Lux screams at me. I pull myself up from the burning concrete.

Months have passed in 1 and there is no rescue in sight. I gave up hope about 5 weeks into training. It's the same every day for me. 

Wake.

Work.

Sleep.

16 hours a day. It's driving me to the point of madness. My supply of food is smaller every day as training becomes more intense. 

"GET UP! YOU'RE PATHETIC!" His voice booms across the track. I know I have to get up this time. Every minute I stay on the ground is extra lashings at the daily torture sessions that take place here. And I'm always on the list. 

"STOP! YOU AREN'T EVEN TRYING NOW!" I say nothing as a pant heavily on the floor. My motivation used be returning home but I have nothing now. "Let's start today's session early, shall we? Since you seem so eager to finish!" 

"Please!" I can barely breath. "I..can't." 

"You will if I have to drag you" He bellows. He pulls me along the gravel and up the stairs. My head always has scratches from it thumping on the steps every day. Why can't I die already? I catch sight of Silver and Charm running on the other track. 

I have private facilities but it''s not for me. It's to stop any interruptions like me crying for help to the others.

Silver and Charm haven't spoken to me since the day I arrived all those months ago. But, they never argue when Lux commands them to tie me to the post. 

Some times I find strength to grab at their legs but they just shake it off. Silver rips my t-shirt off like every day but he always pauses to stare at the scars on my back. 

"Mellark, those scars would heal if you actually tried!" Lux trashes the whip at me; reopening cuts that never heal. 

The cameras pull in tight on my face. They film every single one of my whippings and broadcast it live over Panem.

The whole idea of the revolution has died along with any hope of my rescue. Katniss was captured with the other victors that survived the arena. The Hunger Games lives on. 

Despite the dead rebellion, Snow still kicks at it by screening my torture sessions as a reminder that no one can escape. 

I haven't seen Katniss in just under a year. I want to say my love for her fell with the rebellion but I can't help but dread what they will do to her. Lux keeps me updated on what they might do, just to try and push me over the edge. Apparently, Snow is saving her exaction for a special occasion. I long that I will be dead before then. 

Like everyday, after a whipping, I drag myself back to my room. It's not really mine and it feels like a bird cage. I have a small sink that spurts dirty water and the toilet is one I stay away from. The mirror on the wall is a constant reminder of what they're doing to me. The only enjoyable element is the window. Though it's small and unable to be opened at least I can look over the small ocean that I was dropped into all those months ago. 

A Peace Keeper opens the door for me then shoves me in; locking it behind me. I instantly drop to the floor, on my stomach, and let the cold air get to my scars. That's when I notice it. A gust of wind hits my face as I drag myself to my feet. I wobble slightly and have to grab the sink as my lungs fill with fresh air. My gaze travels to the window. The once sealed window has been smashed into a million shards that now lay on the ground. I look away, not believe it's real, but when I stare into the mirror my reflection is covered by thick writing reading: "RUN, MELLARK. THE CAPITOL. HIDE' 

I look back to the window; it's still shattered. 

Before I can think I'm off. I don't care who wrote it. It could easily be a trap but I have no other chance. 

I run my hand over the mirror; smudging the writing then I scramble out of the small window. I prepare myself for Peace Keepers to appear but nothing happens. The streets are quiet and silent. I find myself running with a smile on my face. The first smile I've had in months! 

I avoid the water's edge and head straight for the electric fence. The only way past it is to climb the metal stake but who know's if that is charged as well. I put my fingertip on the cold, buzzing, surface but my hand is zapped with a minute shock. I've had enough electric shocks to last a lifetime so I can handle this one. Snow didn't think about that. 

Climbing the stake is a struggle and once I'm at the top I leap to the ground but I land on my arm. I don't even bother looking over the damage; that arm was a goner since the arena. 

At first I sprint but fatigue, that's been building up over months of training, takes over and makes me slow to a walk. 

After hours of walking, in the dark velvet night, I finally catch a glimpse of the Capitol's bright lights. Daylight is breaking over the horizon so going now would be idiotic. Sleep is what I need. I don't even care what attacks me during the night. I could fight anything now. I'm determined to get away.