Hunger Games (Peeta's POV)

7

When I finally fall into a sleep, horrible dreams keep me at the surface, never letting me truly sleep. Each dream worse than the last, each dream leaving me panting. I can hear screams in my dreams and I'm never sure if they're mine. 

As dawn finally breaks, my head aches and my throat burns. A night full of terrors leaves me feeling defenseless and alone, the warmth of the night before long gone. 

I drag myself out of bed, into the shower, finding comfort in the warm jets of water. It's enough to make me feel like myself again. 

Back in my room, I find an outfit laid out for me. The outfit I'll be wearing for training. It's simple, but will do the job. I look in the mirror and find an odd reflection staring back at me. I no longer see the boy from home, I see a boy going towards death. It's enough to make me shake. I find myself avoiding mirrors from that point forward. 

I realize it's only been two days since I was home, two days and I already don't recognize myself. They've already taken me from myself. I realize, I'm pissed. That's not how I'm going to die. I'm not going to die as a pawn. I'm going to die as Peeta Mellark. That thought is enough to bring me back to the mirror and try to find what I can recognize from home. The game is enough to bring me back to myself. But, the thoughts don't leave my mind. All I can think is, I don't want to die as a pawn. 

I enter the dining room at the same time as Haymitch, finding Katniss already at the table. Her plate is long since empty and she's deep in thought. I know not to disturb her as I sit at the table. I do take note that we're wearing the same outfit, the stylists haven't stopped presenting us as a team, I hope they don't stop. It may give us exactly the advantage we need. 

I realize, I'm nervous about the training. I don't want to begin to see my competitors as real people. I just want to go into the games and get it all over with. But, I know these will give me a better chance of surviving. Something I plan on doing, for awhile at least. 

Haymitch takes a break from eating to speak, "So, let's get down to business. Training. First off, if you like, I'll coach you separately. Decide now."

Katniss speaks up, "Why would you coach us separately."

"Say if you had a secret skill you might not want the other to know about," says Haymitch.

Katniss' eyes flit to me for a brief moment, so I speak up, stating the obvious, "I don't have any secret skills and I already know what yours is, right? I mean, I've eaten enough of your squirrels." 

I watch as confusion crosses her face and can't begin to wonder what I've said that couldn't caused that. She answers the question for the both of us, "You can coach us together." 

I give my own nod of agreement. Haymitch immediately gets down to business, "All right, so give me some idea of what you can do." 

"I can't do anything, unless you count baking bread," I say honestly. 

"Sorry, I don't," He says, frowning, "Katniss. I already know you're handy with a knife."

"Not really," She voices, "But I can hunt, with a bow and arrow."

"And you're good," shoots back Haymitch.

She pauses, pondering his question. I roll my eyes, not even having to think about the answer. Finally, she replies, "I'm all right."

"She's excellent," I cut in, not letting her shrink herself, "My father buys her squirrels. He always comments on how the arrows never pierce the body. She hits everyone in the eye. It's the same with the rabbits she sells the butcher. She can even bring down a deer."