I hadn't realized I had fallen asleep until I awoke to the dark night outside my open window. I forgot I had opened it, and the cold wind quickly rushed inside.

Slowly, I stood up, suddenly sad because Peeta wasn't outside my door anymore. It's like I could feel when he was there and when he was gone. But not physically. I mean mentally. And in my head, something felt horribly wrong.

As I stood, the world spun, colors blinking. I realized, then, this is what it felt like inside a dream. I was dreaming. Thank goodness. Maybe everything was ok like I had left it when I first fell asleep.

And the fact that it was a dream explained everything. The dark night, but the buzzing lights in the kitchen. Christmas dinner was set out on the table and it smelled too good to be real. Of course.

But still, something felt off. I had heard of experiences where people had had dreams that ended up being reality. Something was missing as I made my way down the hallway and sat down at the table. Peeta and Prim weren't there.

My head spun, more confused than I usually am in reality. Prim would never miss this, and neither would Peeta. Plus, this was a family dinner. And he was more than family, especially now.

No one answered me when I spoke to them. They knew I was there, looked me in the eyes. My lips moved, forming words clear as day but no sound came from them.

A shrill squeak stopped the laughter that filled the room- I definitely wasn't the only one who had heard it. The laughter never resumed, and the squeak just got louder and louder until it was a full blown scream of terror.

Two voices.

Two different screams.

But it sounded like an orchestra.

Two screams I'd know anywhere. "PEETA!" Prim called out. Everyone froze. I could hear it clear as day, again and again. My sister, clearly helpless.

My hands shook. The second scream came again, clear as day, but it was Peeta. And he was desperate, and absolutely terrified.

I knew something was wrong, but I seemed to refuse the desperate wake up call.

What the hell had happened?

Peeta's P.O.V.

The last thing I remember was darkness, but it's also the first thing I see. I can't seem to tell the difference between when I lost everything and woke up again. Maybe I've been awake this who time and just couldn't tell the difference.

Time seems to slow and speed up in intervals. I can hear a faint tick tock, and I think back to when Katniss was in the hospital, just a few days ago.

Is that where I am? I want to get up, but I don't. I can't. Somethings there, but for some reason I don't fight it. I open my eyes.

I instantly feel woozy. Tired and exhausted. I can only vaguely remember what happened, why they heck I landed myself in a hospital bed. I think nothing of it until the curtain in the middle of the room opens and a doctor walks in.

"You're finally awake," she says. I must be doing fine, because her feet act on a pedal, raising my bed. She unlatches the IV in my arm, which I hadn't noticed was there.

But the second the medicine stopped flowing into my blood, my stomach clenched and sweat trickled down my forehead. Nothing had ever hurt so much in my entire life.

I wanted to scream, but I bit my lip. I wanted to scream at the doctor for removing that medicine that clearly was working some sort of miracle.

The doctor found a bulging vein in my wrist and inserted a new needle, large and bulky. The needle went in and out, sending a clear, orangish liquid into my blood, sending relief up my spine.

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