The Hunger Games: Book Four - How it Might Have Been ... Gale.

Page Forty-Six

Peeta

As Oeno's Mockingjay hovercraft breaks away from the main craft, relief floods through me. When I had heard above her 'different entrance into the Arena', I assumed it would be gruesome, like she would already be dead, just to prove a point. But this idea... it's almost beautiful.

And I know the original Mockingjay is below somewhere, watching.

I can feel her, feel her heart, her breathing, and I miss my wedding ring. But maybe I miss it out of habit. Over the past few weeks, I've been questioning love. Not love in general, just mine. Katniss never intended on having my surname, and if she had never volunteered for the Hunger Games all those years ago, I'm pretty sure she never would have. If Effie Trinket had just moved her hand slightly to the left picking out the boys' name that day, I would never have confessed my love to Katniss. Or lost my leg. Or my sanity. Or had Oenothera and Kuwai. Or make as much cheese bread as I do. Or loathe Gale Hawthorne as much as I do.

My emotions are conflicting. I love Katniss. I must love her. It's not a childhood crush that fate intervined. It was meant to be, us being together in the Games. I gave her the burned bread that night because I loved her, not because she was starving. But then when I think about all I've done for her and compare it to what Gale has probably done for her in all his life, he has probably saved her a lot more than I have.

My love gave her safety and courage at times, but never passion, never a burning will to live. Katniss never loved me back in the way I love her, and I don't blame her. She was never one to love. If she truly loved me, she would have listened to me, would have escaped here a long time ago, run from the Capitol. She would never throw herself into danger like she does. Like she is probably doing now. I wonder what will become of us if we survive this? She'll remember me taking Oenothera, destroying my promise to her that the Capitol would never take our children in the most personal way possible. She'll remember me trying to kill Gale.I wonder if she's in love with Gale. And I don't want to think about that. My sanity is a string, and it doesn't take much to snap it.

"Are you ready to witness a revolution?" Snow comes up behind me, his hands folded behind his back. He obviously feels no need to restrain me now, because there's nothing I can do. The New Hunger Games are going ahead. We are at a standstill now, hovering above the Arena where we will watch the Games unfold. I'm standing in a hovercraft with every living member of this New Capitol, and they are watching the Games unfold. Oeno is just landing, not fifty yards away from the mangled corpse of the first Tribute. I remember seeing the carnage first hand. I feel my leg, my fake leg, and it kills me. I can feel the pain of the hand cuffs cutting me when I lose it, when reality slips away. It's all because of the Capitol.

I've lost and gained everything, all because of the Capitol.

In a swift yet violent movement, I swing around and grab the powerboard of the hovercraft, hitting the button I know deactivates the engines, and spin the steering wheel at a sharp angle. The workers scream and fall, and Snow cries out, hitting his head off the window. The hovercraft falls rapidly, speeding towards the rubble, and all I can think of is the meaning of the word 'real'.