Peeta's Story- The Hunger Games

Chapter 5

The darkness envelops me, and I feel like I can't breathe. It is a heavy blanket, constricting me, and locking my feelings inside me. I feel paralyzed in fear as my mind replays my reaping over and over again. I am so tired that I am lulled into a restless sleep. I wake up suddenly and find that I have been tucked into bed by someone. I stretch out and stare blankly at the ceiling and try to go back to sleep, but I can't. My mind is swimming with unwelcome thoughts. I wonder what is happening in District 12.

Hopefully my mom has stopped grieving. I have only seen her show her compassionate side a few times, once when she left me in the Justice Building, and another time when I almost died.

I was around five or six then, playing catch with my friends in the street. We had heard a very important person from the Capitol was coming to visit, and we were all dressed in our best. Braedan threw the ball a little too far, and I rushed into the street, bending down to get it just as something called a car turned the corner. I remember seeing bright lights shine into my eyes as I looked straight at it, and next thing I knew, I was in a coma. My brain was fuzzy, but I remember that day clearly. I woke to the sight of my mom standing over me, worried out of her mind. In one hand she held a towel for mopping my head, and in the other she held my hand. When my eyes fluttered open, she bent over me, kissing my forehead, and gasping in relief. “Thank goodness you're alive!” she kept whispering.

As I reflect on this, I realize why she has been so strict with me lately. She never lets me out of her sight because she doesn't want this to happen again. She doesn't want to lose me, but by some sick twist of fate, she's lost me again. And this time, I really will die.

I sigh as I sit up in bed. My mind is clearer now, and I'm not as panicked as I was yesterday. I'm turning back into myself again as I try to think optimistic thoughts. However, as much as I rack my brains, I cannot think of much that makes me feel better.

I slip out of bed and turn on a lamp.

The smell of the roses really sickens me, so I take them to the bathroom, wrap them in tissue, and throw them out. Much better.

I crinkle my nose as I realize the room still slightly reeks of alcohol. The light of the lamp is dark and throws ominous shadows on the blood-red walls. I decide the room really creeps me out at night, so I open the door and step into the corridor.

Outside, everything is still merry and there is loud noise even though it is probably the middle of the night. I wander into a room and find Haymitch up and about. His eyes are bloodshot and his cheeks are bright red. He must be drunk again. Next to him, Effie Trinket is giggling as she watches some meaningless show about fashion on the TV. A few other people that I don't recognize are playing cards.

Effie notices me lingering by the door and pats the seat next to her. “Here, Peeta. Want to watch Panem's Next Top Model?”

I try not to laugh at how ridiculous that sounds. “Um, I'm fine. I'll just... leave.” Not like there's anything for me to do here.

Her face falls and she looks slightly disappointed as turn on my heel to leave. I turn back around, struck with an idea. “Effie, can I go exploring?”

She nods a hasty yes, her eyes glued back to the TV screen.

I walk down the corridor, pushing open doors. Everything is so boring, and every room seems to be the same. I accidentally walk into Katniss's room. They really need to install locks on these doors. She looks so peaceful that I slip out quietly, careful not to disturb her.

I reach the end of the corridor and push open the last door. Strangely, it won't budge. I look down and see why- there is a keyhole. Why is this door the only one that is locked? My curiosity gets to the better of me, and I push harder on the door, determined to find out what is inside. My mind swirls with idea and possibilities, most of them outrageous.

“Peeta,” someone says from behind me, “I wouldn't go in there if I were you.” I jump in surprise and turn around.

Haymitch is standing there, looking as drunk as ever. I look around, sure that he is about to lecture me, but instead he just shakes his head and offers me a beer.

I smile and shake my head no as he lumbers away into a room nearby. I walk slowly back to my room and slip onto my bed. It is almost morning now, and I can see a tiny sliver of the sun shine through my window. I try to fall back asleep, but I can't. I'm thinking too hard about that forbidden room. My conscience and common sense tells me to drop it, but my mind is already trying to figure out how to get in.

I remember a long time ago when my friend Darren taught me how to open a lock with a paper clip. Maybe I can do that. My mind fights an internal war with itself and I say to myself, “Curiousity killed the cat.”

I laugh as I realize the irony of the situation.

I'm going to die anyways, so why does it matter? I really don't know where this cynical side of me is coming from. Tomorrow, I decide. Tomorrow, I will find a way to see what is really inside that room. --

Thanks, Lizzy for editing!