| The Jabberbird | THG |

Chapter 7

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 look up here, man, I'm in danger / I've got nothing left to lose  

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Peeta

 I'm lying on my front, pretending to be asleep, when I hear a knock on the door. I know it's for me, there's no-one else here. Most of the refugees from district 12 have living quarters with their family. I had no such luck. I live alone, the beds across from me are cold and empty, no mattresses of course, wouldn't want to waste materials on the bed of a ghost. 

My thoughts leave the immediate world and drift to them. I do not picture my father's laugh, or my brother's calming voice, telling me to go to the closet. Even my mother's rare smile does not seek to enter my mind. Only the imagined pictures of their bodies, slowly rotting in the ruins of our old home, and the ash settling on their bones, plague the parts of my brain that aren't occupied with the girl with the silver eyes.

They were going to ask me to go and see it. District 12. I overheard Plutarch talking about it to the president. At that point I went and barricaded myself into my room and didn't come out for two days. I couldn't face it. I wish I was strong enough. I wish I could walk in there, and instead of breaking down, direct all my emotions into bringing down the capitol. They think I don't want to. I do. 

The knock comes again. I groan and put my pillow over my head.

Another knock, but this time it's the cannon, signifying death in the arena. Five times. My whole family, and Katniss. My breathing becomes harsh and fast and I try to tune out and focus on what's real.

My name is Peeta Mellark, I am seventeen years old. I am in district 13. My home is...was district twelve, I was in two hunger games, I escaped. Katniss didn't. She was taken by the capitol. I wish I was dead, I wish we were all dead. It would probably be better if we were dead...

I am breathing so hard I don't hear the door open, I see President Snow. I squeeze my eyes shut. My name is Peeta Mellark...

"Peeta?" I hear a voice, a soft one, not Snow. I slowly open my eyes.

I sleep on the floor, because I thrash around so much that I fall off even the lowest beds. But for some reason being out on the floor in the open scares me, so I've moved a blanket and a pillow to under one of the lower bunks. I know the people who know about the arrangement must think strange things about me. But it's been so long since anyone's done anything but think and talk about me that i don't care anymore.

I see a pair of shoes, grey, the government-issued ones everyone gets here in 13.

"Peeta?" a voice above the shoes says.

I make no sound, I'm not sure I am capable of speech anymore, I can't even remember the last time i spoke outside of this room. 

Knees follow the shoes, garbed in a hospital gown, then a head, topped with long red-hair. Annie. Some people say she's mad. I don't think so, so far she's the only person here who I've had an actual conversation with. Maybe we're just similar. 

"Peeta they want you in command" she says softly, as if not to wake me.

I release the hold on the pillow from my head but say nothing. Command? The word rings a bell, but I know I've never been.

Every morning you have to stick your right arm into this machine in the wall. It prints your schedule on your forearm in purple ink. You follow the schedule until you wash and it breaks down. Probably something like command-7:00 was written there at some point, but I never read it. I generally ignore the words on my arm, and just occasionally show up for meals, only when I really need it though (all the food tastes like cardboard here anyway), then retreat to my room and crawl under the bed.

"Peeta" There is something different in her voice, something that makes me look at her.

"Peeta, it's about Katniss".

A/N-I realise the image is not accurate, of course he isn't that damaged. But I feel like it could be a reference point, if that makes any sense.

Lyric- Lazarus- David Bowie