Real or not real?

Realities Spring Breeze Of Bread

I was pulled into a deep forest, clumsy feet chasing me, and the feeling of watching eyes was overwhelmingly strong. Throat dry I attempt to scream only resulting in a hopeless whimper that would of sounded pathetic to my followers just meters behind me. The foliage limited my view and slowed down my speed, my quick breathing making me dizzy and sick, and my mind wanting nothing more than to quench my thirst.

My eyes burst open, the rays of sun blinding me as I try to block it with my hands. "It was a dream, it was a dream, it was a dream" I mumble to myself while wiping the cold sweat off of my forehead with my sleeve.

Greasy Sae was cooking breakfast when I walked down the staircase. Two Small, delicate and smooth in texture eggs neatly lay on my patterned plate.

"Don't play with your food," smiled Greasy Sae "it will get cold" I stopped rolling around my eggs, and picked a rather plump one out, and tapped it on its head.

The yolk oozed out, like blood from a wound that's just been stabbed. Memories, flashbacks and many other bad things flood my mind; the Hunger Games, prim, my mother treating patients and my own battle scars.

The knock of the door startled me at first, then I realised it was just the baker's boy; Peeta. I don't know how I feel about him since he's lost his mind from Tracker Jackers. His recovery has been slow but, fine, steady but, then frantic. He could be unpredictable but, also loving. I opened the door, warm and sweet spring air poured through as the blossom fell off a near by tree. I see the primroses, the memorial of prim Peeta planted. "Hello Katniss," he beamed "what a lovely morning it is" the old Peeta is back again, the usual cheerful and ever positive one is here. The one I used to love and still do.