I left the hospital alone. They took me to a hotel to stay for a few weeks. I tried calling Peeta, many times. To ask him about our kids, or ask him how he was doing. But I never got an answer.

Physical training is hell. Deep, dark, burning hell. Early morning training, breakfast, training, lunch, more training, dinner then free time for an hour before bed.

It's just like district thirteen all over again ...

Just thinking about that sends chills down my spine. I shrug them off and pace around my hotel room.

The huge bay window overlooks the districts busy city. But it's dead, it's an hour before its time for people to start to leave for work.

The town is silent and dead.

I pick up the remote that changes the displace on the window. Just like the one I had in my room during the first games.

I change it to the district twelve photos and let them pan out. I close my eyes hugging my sides with my arms imaging what it's like back home. I would give anything to be back.

The cord phone hanging on the wall begins to ring. I rush to answer it, since no one ever calls this early.

"Hello?" I ask anxiously.

"Katniss, hey. It's me, Peeta." My breath hitches in my throat.

"Peeta! Hi, oh god I've missed you I-"

"Uhm, I actually called for a reason."

"Yeah, go ahead." I clear my throat.

"Where's my birth certificate?" He asks me.

"In the safe in the closet." I tell him.

"And where's the extra height chair? I can't fucking find that either." He says angrily.

"It's in the back shed. You may need to wash it off." I explain.

"Thanks." He mutters. In the background I can hear cries of a child.

"I miss them." I state.

"Their too young to know what missing someone feels like." He blurts.

"But I'm sure they've noticed I'm not there." I continue.

"Probably not." He says shortly.

"What's your problem?" I blurt. "You know for a damn fact I miss you. Why are you being like this?"

"I'm not having this conversation over the phone. Or at all." He says. "So I'll see you either when you get back from war or at your funeral."

Static rings on the other end.

I can't go. Loosing him would be worst then my untimely death. If I die, I hurt no one but myself.  If I lose him, I'll kill myself, no way around it.

If I don't go, the war will continue in silence. They won't report about it on the news. No one will know. It won't be over for years. My children and family and future great grandchildren and great great grandchildren will never know a safe world. They will know a world with the hunger games. And that's a world in one can live in. But then again, I'll still have my Peeta, and we'll live together happily with our children and grow old together.

If I go, I lose Peeta. And possibly my life. I'll never see my children. It was always obvious he was the better pageant to them. But the war will be over, our kids will have a safe future even if it isn't with me. They won't know a life of torture and misery and poverty like their mother did. Peeta will find someone else, he's so full of charm and he's just bursting with personality.

I can't bring any tears out of me. So I sit on the floor, next to the phone, and write down these reasons. Why I should and shouldn't go to fight. When I'm done, I address the letter to Peeta, and send it in the hotel's main lobby. I ask for his response, hoping my other points will help him actually respond.

When I'm done, I just sit back down on the floor and wait for the sun to rise and my name to be called over the loud speaker hooking from every single room.

Every time I hear "Katniss Mellark" it gives me instant flashbacks to sitting waiting for my individual assessment for the games. But I push the shivers down my spine and continue down the hallway.

I sigh, and walk into the PT room, my trainer is waiting for us. "Good morning!" She says cheerily. "How are you this morning?" She asks with a too big smile.

I push half a smile out before I look at her. "I've been better." I mutter.

"Yeah, we all could couldn't we?" She smiles as she puts a heart monitor on me and other kinds of clips to monitor my work. "So today's the same as the last, and the day before, and the day before last, and all the days before." She attempts a joke.

"Got it." I say sitting down at the bench press she makes me start with every day.

I put my hands in place and wait for her to set the weight. I push up, this is the easiest thing ever to do.

I'm startled when my hands push that the bar doesn't move. "What the-" I mutter suddenly out of breath from the sudden shock.

"I thought we'd try something different today." She smiles bending down to my level. "Just use your core strength to try and raise the bar!" She squeals.

I adjust my grip. My feet come off the ground as I push, the bar doesn't move an inch.

"I can't." I exclaim.

"It's only a few more pounds then yesterday." She inquiries. "You can."

"I can't." I press.

"If you do this, and do it right a bunch of times, I'll sign the release papers. But until then your stuck here."

I push this meaningless bar up and down a few times, I get to leave, go back home, and try to get my Peeta back.

I take long deep breaths in my nose and out my mouth.

I will lift this damn bar over my head.

'Work stupid arms work" I chant in my head angrily. 'Work!'

More deep breaths, then, with all my might, I push the bar we hard as I can.

My eyes were closed, but when I open them, I find the bar hasn't moved. And my trainer - DeeCee - smiles apathetically.

"That's about enough for today miss Katniss, why don't you go get something to eat?" She smiles happily.

"I'm not hungry." I mumble.

"My dear, you haven't eaten yet today, go down to the mess hall and grab yourself something to eat. And don't worry about the plan, eat whatever you'd like." She explained.

"Fine." I mutter and stand sulkily and turn around walk down to the mess hall.

It's pretty quite. Granted breakfast is over, the only people here is the ones cleaning the mess from the diners.

I eat a salad, but a super extra healthy salad. One with chia seeds and fruit, and protein enriched chicken.

I eat it with a side of unbuttered toast they gave me, and a large bottle of water.

I shovel the food into my mouth, and then stand putting the trash into the bin.

When I go back to the PT room, and I look around. DeeCee has left. Guess we're done for the day.

I sulk back to my room, crawl in bed, and stay there for the rest of the day.

My legs don't want to move. My arms don't want to lift. My stomach doesn't want to eat. My brain doesn't want to think. My body doesn't want to do anything anymore.

My arms too sore from the stress and pressure of training. My body, heart, and soul aches from missing Peeta,

My heart aches the most. He's my rock, my anchor, and my whole world.

But to him, I'm a small pebble, feeing after him hoping he'll be mine sometime again soon.

**

Sorry for such scarce updates, I'm trying to write more. Lately I've been trying to put more work into the chapters and make them better rather then just posting a bunch of bad chapters.

Hope y'all are enjoying.

Love y'all. ❤️