Beacon of Hope

Chapter Twenty <3 50th Hunger Games

Keep Peeta alive.

Keep Peeta alive.

Keep Peeta alive.

It runs through my mind, as I sit on my bed, thinking about the goodbyes that never happened. Peeta is also here with me, writing the letters that he thinks will be delivered with his stiff, cold body. They won't. I should really right to my family, but I'll just end up with a blank page staring back at me.

I feel so guilty. I was going to forgive Gale when he came to see me, but he never did, so, when I'm dead, he'll think I still hate him. I don't.

Well, I do. No, I hate what he did, I hate what he did to Peeta, to Prim. But he was my best friend, and I love him. But he loves me more. He feels something for me that I don't think I really feel for him. Maybe if I hadn't met Peeta it could've been different. I could have been different.

But I'm not. I love Peeta, and I cant ever not love Peeta. So it's not different, I'm not different. I don't feel for Gale what I feel for Peeta, what Gale feels for me.

I love Gale, as a cousin, as a brother, as a friend. I don't love him as a boyfriend, a husband, the father of my children.

At dinner, almost everyone is silent. Peeta tells Effie that he likes her hair. She tells him she had it done to match my pin.

Haymitch is sober, and silent too. He owes us to much to be drunk right now, so when anybody tries to talk to him, he just waves it off.

" Shall we watch the recap of the reaping?" Effie asks. We agree.

We've been watching all the Games, seeing who may be up against us. Peeta grabs his notepad, so he can jot down our competition.

We watch the reaping. All of the tributes go through one of my ears, then right out the other. Afterwards, Peeta sends me to bed. I don't want to face the nightmares without him, but I follow his instructions, and climb into bed.

Just as I thought, the nightmares are horrific. I can't stay alone when I wake up, so I climb out of bed and order some warm milk from a Capitol worker. I order a small tin of lamb stew and half a cheese bun as well, since I've been craving both of them desperately for the last couple of weeks. I head to the television room, seeing Peeta perched on a plush, red sofa.

He turns the tape of and gets up. " Couldn't sleep, huh?"

" No," I whisper.

He sits on the couch and pats his lap. I lie across the couch and rest my head on his lap, so as he can play with my hair. He un braids it, and twirls my wavy brown hair round and round his fingers. The Capitol attendant walks in, carrying a tray.

" I brought two cups," he says.

" Thank you," I say back, smiling.

" I also added honey, and cinnamon. For flavour. And I brought a whole cheese bun and an extra lamb stew," he adds.

" Uh, thank you?" I say.

He sets it down on the table, curtseys, and walks away.

" What one will we watch now?" I ask.

" We haven't seen this one yet," he says, waving the disk containing Haymitch's Games in the air.

Haymitch hadn't wanted us to watch the second Quarter Quell. I don't know why, but I'm curious. I want to see what he wants to hide so badly. But I don't want to upset him. Maybe there's a real reason that he's so apprehensive to let us watch it.

" Maybe we shou-" I say.

" But, it's not like we're any different, Katniss," he says.

He's right. " Well, I guess that if we watch it, there's no harm done. . . Right?"