One night, instead of the usual nightmare, a memory resurfaced in my dreams.

Late in the evening, a dark and filthy girl was searching through the bakery trash cans, the mother of the house was livid, she screamed at the girl, even threatened to call the peacekeepers, but the young boy beside her didn't see the point, she only wanted food. So what if she stole from our trash? She was just a poor girl from the Seam, but that wasn't the reason he'd purposely dropped the loaves of bread into the fire, it was because he had an unbelievable crush on this girl.

"What are we going to do with BURNT bread? What a waste! Do you want us to go broke? Do you want to live in the worst parts of the Seam because that's where you're headed! Can you do anything right? You worthless piece of-"

"I'm s-sorry Mom! I won't do it again I s-swear!"

"You sure as hell won't!"

The woman with her angry stare swung a small rolling pin high in the air and whacked the little blonde-haired boy hard across the cheek. The boy tried not to cry at the aching pain that sprouted on the left side of his face, surely this will result in an ugly black eye and bruise down his cheek. His mother shoved the two steaming burnt loaves of bread into his hands, then pushed him outside into the heavy rain, screaming,

"Feed it to the pig, you stupid creature! Why not? No one decent will buy burned bread!"

The boy began tearing off chunks of the burnt parts and tossed them into the trough, the bakery bell rung and the mother hurried off to help a customer. Once she was out of sight, the boy glanced behind him just to make sure she was gone, then threw one of the still-steaming loaves at the soggy creature that lay out in the mud. It was the girl, starving and helpless.

The next day at school, the boy's left eye and cheek were swelled up and sore. "I fell face-first on the sidewalk." He told his friends. It was the end of the day, they were walking out of the schoolhouse. The little boy saw the girl pass by, he thought he saw her glance at him, but when he tried to catch her eye, she immediately looked away. He watched her kneel down and pick out dandelion from a patch of grass on the ground. She didn't acknowledge him again, so he walked away.

When I woke up, I spent hours ruling out this memory. I knew it was real, for some reason I just knew. That was the one moment we first had real connection before the Hunger Games. This might be the answer to a lot of Katniss' intentions. I saved her life, she thought she owed me. That's why she played through the act and saved my life in the Games. But I still don't know how to feel about her, owing and caring are different things. What type of person is she really? Looking back at everything I remember, I can't seem to think of one simple thing. Maybe if I saw her again, I'd know for sure, and if she really cared, maybe she'd somehow explain.

Right now, all I know is that I would've spared myself a whole lot of suffering if I'd just given the bread to the pig.

-

During he next therapy session, they told me that the next best thing to do was to communicate with friends and family. I grimly reminded them that besides Delly, all of my friends and family are dead.

"That's not true, there are many people who still worry about you." Dr. Salvo said.

"Really? Who?"

"Haymitch Abernathy, Johanna Mason, Finnick Odair... Katniss Everdeen."

"But-"

"Just because they, besides Johanna, weren't captured with you doesn't mean they betrayed you or abandoned you, anything the Capitol said was a lie. Believe me when I say they were worried about you the entire time you were gone, they felt scared and guilty for what happened."

Hearing her say this made me feel that selfish feeling again,

"They still lied to me about the rebel plan." I muttered.

"They were doing whatever it took to start this war against Snow, without him knowing anything about it."

"Do they really want to see me?"

"Yes, most of them are unsure on whether or not you'll try to kill them or not, considering what happened last time. Would you be able to handle it?"

I felt a bit childish when she asked this, I nodded grudgingly.

"Who wants to see me?" I asked.

"I already told you, all of them do, but right now most of them have busy schedules. Johanna is in the middle of her own rehabilitation, Finnick is planning his wedding, Katniss is in District 2, so that leaves Haymitch."

"Fine." I said.

Even if it was the "best" thing to do not to tell me. I'm still mad at Haymitch for lying and not telling me anything about their plan. I thought he and Katniss agreed that I was an excellent actor. If only he'd told me before the Quarter Quell, if it was so important then maybe I wouldn't of told Katniss, I would've trusted the others, and maybe I wouldn't of been captured by the Capitol in the first place.

If that had happened, would everything have turned out differently? Probably. I'll never know, it makes me angry to think about it, and I have Haymitch to blame for that. I might never trust him again, and when I saw him a few days later, I knew he could tell.

When I sputtered out angry comments and insults he just sat there cowering in his chair and took it. It seemed like everything I said he agreed with solemnly.

"Look, I'm sorry." He mumbled, "Katniss wasn't too happy with me either, especially when she found out you were taken." I could tell he hasn't had a drink in ages, there was a dried out painful look in his eyes. On the subject of Katniss, I thought of my recent dream.

"I want to see her."

Haymitch straightened up, obviously caught off-guard with my request. With questioning eyes, he replied,

"Considering that you almost killed her in your last reunion, I believe it's up to her on whether you'll see her again."

Then he got up and headed for the door, before exiting he paused,

"I wouldn't worry. There's no way she wouldn't come even with that stubborn mind of hers."

-

It was confirmed she'd come when they shackle me to the bed with the restraints and reconnect the knock-out drug tube again. Surprisingly enough, the doctors leave the room,

"Ms. Everdeen will be with you in a minute." The last one said before she exited. I knew we wouldn't really be alone, the glass window on the wall most likely has a dozen observers that I can't see on the other side of the wall. I wait patiently, fiddling with the straps keeping me down. The door slowly opens, and Katniss Everdeen walks in.

After all of the flashbacks, recordings, fake memories, and lies of the killer mutation I was told she was, as well as the hopeless longing and somewhat love I'd felt before all that, I'd thought she was the most perfect thing in the world and then I'd thought she was the most dangerous monster. But now, I just see a simple girl with a past of all that, then again it all might not be fully gone.

She crosses her arms, trying to convey a poised look but that desperate look in her eyes is what ruins it. After a silent pause, she speaks,

"Hey."

"Hey." I reply.

"Haymitch said you wanted to talk to me." She says.

"Look at you, for starters." I say coolly. She's not deadly, yet she's not perfect. I'm still lost in my thoughts, I've had a problem with that lately. "You're not very big, are you? Or particularly pretty?"

"Well, you've looked better." She shoots back, eyebrows furrowed.

I laugh, suddenly remembering the defensive, judgmental, and stubborn girl I once knew and for some reason, loved.

"And not even remotely nice. To say that to me after all I've been through." I add.

"Yeah, we've all been through a lot. And you're the one who was known for being nice. Not me." She states.

I remember now more clearly within her presence than ever when watching those recordings. I suddenly remember more of who she was, and also who I was. And this isn't who I was, I knew that when Katniss turned to leave with an offended look on her face,

"Look, I don't feel so well. Maybe I'll drop by tomorrow." She says grimly.

I only feel a small twinge of guilt from what I said, but I don't want her to leave, I'm not through with what I originally wanted to say.

"Katniss. I remember about the bread."

She stops dead in her tracks, her hand reaching for the door pauses, then falls to her side.

"They showed you the tape of me talking about it." She says.

"No, is there a tape of you talking about it? Why didn't the Capitol use it against me?" I ask, wondering to myself.

"I made it the day you were rescued." She answers, "So what do you remember?"

She gazes at me while I think back at the memory,

"You. In the rain." I say softly. "Digging in our trash bins. Burning the bread. My mother hitting me. Taking the bread out for the pig but then giving it to you instead."

"That's it. That's what happened," she says. "The next day, after school, I wanted to thank you. But I didn't know how." She stares deeply at me with widened eyes full of curiosity and wonder.

"We were outside at the end of the day. I tried to catch your eye. You looked away. And then... for some reason, I think you picked a dandelion."

She nods. So it is real. I really do remember. I watched her walk home, I watched her everyday after school. I was longing for her to say something to me, I thought she would after throwing the bread to her that one evening, but she never did, and I was too nervous to say anything to her. So I just watched her, I was so caught up in her cute braids and her face which I had always thought to be beautiful. I don't understand now, after all she'd done, one thing after the next, why I had still liked her even after I knew who she really was. I thought her stubbornness was cute, and her confidence admirable. But why? I no longer understand.

"I must have loved you a lot." I say aloud.

"You did." She replies, coughing a bit after speaking, trying to hide her cracking voice.

There's still one thing I've wondered for a long time, and still wonder, even if I don't care nearly as much.

"And did you love me?"

She lowers her head,

"Everyone says I did. Everyone says that's why Snow had you tortured. To break me."

She keeps her eyes on the floor, avoiding my curious gaze.

"That's not an answer." I tell her. It's not good enough to explain everything I've seen and wondered.

"I don't know what to think when they show me some of the tapes. In that first arena, it looked like you tried to kill me with those tracker jackers."

"I was trying to kill all of you. You had me treed." She says.

"Later, there's a lot of kissing." I go on, "Didn't seem very genuine on your part. Did you like kissing me?" I ask.

"Sometimes," she admits, glancing at the glass window. "You know people are watching us now?"

I knew, I didn't care, something inside me got ahead of me, I didn't know what it was, curiosity? Anger? Revenge? Reality? I didn't know.

"I know. What about Gale?" I continue.

I can tell she's getting a little angry, maybe even embarrassed, this gave me a sort of relieving feeling.

"He's not a bad kisser either." She says shortly.

"And it was okay with the both of us? You kissing the other?" I ask. This feels as if I were interrogating her, she's getting uncomfortable, more angry. This is how I felt when I was being interrogated in the Capitol, maybe now she gets a little taste of how it felt.

"No. It wasn't okay with either of you. But I wasn't asking your permission." She tells me, scrunching her face at me.

I laugh coldly, "Well, you're a piece of work, aren't you?"

I don't feel bad when she leaves.