The Hunger Games - Peeta's POV

Chapter Eleven - Stars Upon a Rooftop

"What the hell was that? You barely talk to me then you say you have a crush on me? Is that how you want to play it? Loveable then deadly? Huh? HUH?" She has pinned me against the wall, her elbow on my throat. I don't try to resist, I know that I could easily push her aside. But I'm too stunned to do anything.
"Hey, HEY!" Haymitch tugs her away, and keeps her secured.
"He made me look weak!" Katniss says
"He made you look loveable, which in your case, could help sweetheart." Did I make her look weak? Was the effect reversed and instead was she now seen as weak? Not loveable, like I intended?
"Sorry" she says dully. I don't care about whether she's sorry or not. I just need to make sure she survives. Portia leads me away, where we head towards our floor. It's hours before we are called upon dinner. It's fine with both of us though. We spent the time at first cleaning me up, and then just sitting next to each other, glaring at our reflections. Dinner is a spectacular feast, with a whole leg of lamb, and many vegetables in dainty bowls. Katniss and I barely eat, though. Today is the last day until nothing is certain. Except for the death of 23 tributes.
I finish what little I can eat quickly, and roam around the floor. I come across a latch and trapdoor, so I investigate further. It was in fact a trapdoor to the roof, where I stood, amazed for some reason that they even allowed us on top of the roof. I sit down, finally relieved that I have somewhere where I can let out all my anger. I rip out a piece of my trousers viciously, and crunch it up in a ball. I throw it as hard as I can over the edge, and sit there, in a puddle of tears. I had been so caught up trying to save Katniss, I hadn't realised the fact that my life was over. Over. And suddenly, I wish for Bip to come and see me. I don't care if he hadn't been a good brother. I just wanted to see his toothy smile again. And Delly, who had been a loyal friend at school. Did I even see her at the reaping? I don't think I did. I would kill just to exchange one of our jokes once more. Thinking about her, the scrunched up ball of fabric appeared by my side. Huh. I hurl it over the edge again, and wait. As if on cue, it bounces back, and is by my side. So they built something to flick us back up? It must be in case a tribute tried to jump off. Of course, the Capitol wants their fun before they kill us. I stuff the fabric in my mouth and scream. Scream as hard as I can, but the fabric conceals it. Screaming in anger, that my death is not even mine to take. That there is nothing I can even do to make the end of my life as peaceful as possible. All I want more than Bip or Delly is to be at the bakery on a Saturday. Painting on the cookies and cakes. Trading them with Gale, who gives squirrels in return. Trading them with Mayor Undersee, who gives me three gold coins. I just wanted to tell my past self, the one just before the reaping, that that was my last time decorating. So that I could enjoy it.  I am screaming so hard my jaw hurts. I am screaming so hard, but no-one can hear me.

No-one can hear my screams.

I am all cried out, my voice croaky, lying on my back. The trapdoor creaks open, and Katniss herself walks through.
"I heard your scream."

She heard my scream.

We sit together. I explain the force that would hurl us back up if we were to jump. We sat there for a while.
"Do you think you would do it?" she asks me.
"Do what?"
"Kill someone." I ponder on this for a second. If it means saving you, then yes.
"I don't know. I just want them to know that they don't own me." I say, putting my hours of screaming into words.
"That I'm not just a piece of their games." I don't think she understands what I mean, so I explain further.
"If I'm going to die, I want to still be me. I want to arrive home in a wooden box, my parents calm in knowing that they are mourning for Peeta Mellark, the boy who decorates the cookies. Not another one of the Capitol's mutts."
"That's stupid. If you want to survive, you're eventually going to become one of them. No-one decent ever wins the games. It's the ones who aren't afraid to change who they are if it means the next morning they wake up in Victor's Village." and then she leaves. I stay on the roof for a bit longer. Watching the stars. Wishing upon them that they are the same in the arena. Watching the moon, imagining if it is the same one Prim sees at home. Hoping that my journey home will be in a box, comfortable and free of pain. Still me. That Katniss can ride the train home, eating the lamb stew that I know she is so fond of. Reunited with the people who need her. Prim, her mother, Gale, Greasy Sae, Peacekeeper Winston, Madge, all of the lives she mattered to.
In the tubes, I take one last glance at Portia. She gives me a reassuring smile, and I try to suppress the shaking of my legs. I tug my jacket over my shoulder, and watch as I am brought up to the arena.