AN: Back from a loooooong hiatus. Three months? I'm sorry, always busy for school has started. Really sorry. After 10 chapters, writing in Peeta's POV has reached its peak. I'm going to cool off for the mean time and write in Amnesiac Katniss' view. (Katniss here is so OOC)

Three discs are in the package, labeled 1, 2 and 3. I'd found them on the coffee table in the living room with a note from Haymitch telling me to watch them in order, and to pay good attention as they were of help to me to remember.

Remember. It's like I don't know myself. They know more about me than I do.

I put the disc labeled 1 in the player which immediately starts; the title "The 74th Annual Hunger Games" flashes on the screen. I sit on the couch and wrap myself with a woolen blanket that smells like soap. It has been cold in Twelve recently, because of the unrelenting sudden showers that poured in buckets from the clouds. It shows Seneca Crane being interviewed by Caesar Flickerman. I sneeze once and stand up, not bothering to pause the show, to get some tissue and probably make myself something to drink.

I pour myself a mug of freshly brewed tea, the faint scent of mint wafting through the air. I inhale the familiar smell, as I used to make this every time food was not at all that bountiful. Used to, for it probably was a long time since I last made it, though it seems of recent time. I return to my last position on the sofa and stare at the screen, with the District 1 tributes onstage and waving.

They seem really familiar, all of the tributes were. They seem like they came from a dream buried deep inside my mind. I recognize the girl from District 11 as the girl I dreamt about covering in flowers. The screen then cuts to a picture of Mayor Undersee reading the list of the past victors of District 12. I observe the mayor and notice that Madge doesn't look like him, though they both possessed the same type of aura. Madge has always been kind just like her father was. I just wish she survived. They are too few people like her left.

Haymitch stumbles onto the stage, drunk as ever, and falls into the third chair next to Effie Trinket. He hugs her, which causes her smiling lips, the color matching that of her pink wig, to turn upside down. She barely manages to fend off the drunken Haymitch Abernathy. Then the mayor calls her, and she trots to the podium happily.

When she calls the name of the female tribute, I stiffen. I'd thought that since they'd told me I was in the 74th Games, I was the one reaped but no, it was Prim.

My sister walks toward the stage with watery eyes and trembling fists. She's scared, but she's trying her best not to show it. I hear a strangled cry calling my Little Duck's name. The camera zooms in on a girl in a blue dress with features like mine, who runs past Prim and shouts, "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!" She is red-faced and shaking, obviously surprised by what she's done. I see the girl being motioned forward by Effie and Prim wrapping her arms around my waist screaming her disapproval. Gale pries Prim limbs from her body and she continues to stage ineptly.

I look at Prim in the television, face wet with tears and duck tail sticking out. I just want to hug her, tell her to stop crying and wipe the tears away.

I don't notice the heat rising from behind my eyes, nor the tears even falling. My eyes are locked on my Little Duck, even though the camera flicks away to the stage in a matter of moments.

I know what happened to Prim. It wakes me up every night. I tell Peeta I have no nightmares but in all honesty, I always have the recurring dream of silver parachutes floating above a cage of children and exploding. I am certain that's what happened to Prim. They say it's District 13 who bombed the children, and Gale says I blamed him for Prim's death. He doesn't explain to me why I accuse him of that, so I don't really do.

I wipe the fallen tears and send my eyes back to the television. "Katniss Everdeen," I answer Effie's question. She babbles something about me not wanting to give Prim all the glory. She asks everyone to clap, though no one does. Instead, the people below the stage put the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and hold it out to me. It is an old and rarely used gesture of our district, occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means goodbye to someone you love.

Haymitch hobbles over to congratulate me. "Look at this, look at this one!"he throws an arm around my shoulder and continues, "I like her! Lots of… spunk!" he laughs. "More than you!" he releases Katniss Everdeen and points a finger directly to the camera. "More than you!" he laughs again and falls off the stage, knocking himself unconscious.

I bet when the people from the Capitol saw this, they were laughing hysterically at District 12. Haymitch was always drunk during reapings, but I think nothing happened like this before. I wonder how Peeta managed to wean him a little bit from his precious alcohol.

I see myself standing onstage while Effie plucks a piece of paper from the boys' glass bowl, and return to the podium to announce the name of the male tribute. Even though I know it's going to be Peeta, my heart seems to fall when Effie pronounces his name. Peeta Mellark, with his ashy blond hair swept back and worn trousers slowly moves, his face not hiding any emotion.

Looking at the reaping now, I can't imagine why the Gamemakers allowed two people win our Games. I recall Peeta saying that what we have now as a country all started because of a spark; a spark that rebelled against the previous government and made this peace, although claiming many innocent lives in the process. And the fall happened because of the Gamemakers deciding that two people should win the 74th Hunger Games.

A loud ding runs through the room, a sound I'd never heard being present before in the house. The sound again plays, and this time I know it's the door bell. Sighing, I put the show in pause and run down the magnificent staircase to the door. Through the frosted glass I see hues of pink, blue and green: candy colors, too bright for District 12. When I open the door, Effie jumps and hugs me. She has the same bright smile plastered on her face, her white teeth framed by magenta colored lipstick. Haymitch follows her inside. "Katniss dear," she pipes in her high-pitched accent. "How are you faring?"

"I'm alright Effie, thank you." I say politely and flash a questioning look at Haymitch, who whisks a flask out of his pocket and ignores my glare. "Oh! You remember me, this is just great!" she hugs me again, and another wave of Effie's too-sweet-for-my-taste perfume invades my sense of smell. "Of course she knows you. She only remembers up to the day her sister was reaped." He drinks from his brandished flask. Effie frowns and glares at Haymitch. "What were you doing dear?" Effie asks me, smiling sweetly.

"I was watching the videos Haymitch sent me."

"Oh, the films of your Games?"

"Yes."

"Haymitch and I would like to watch it with you. May we join you Katniss?" Haymitch groans. "Correction: Effie would like to watch it. I have some other things to do and watching it would just be a waste of my precious time. After all, I just came over here to initiate your meeting with this girl here. " Effie turns to Haymitch and says to him, "Just watch it with us. Katniss might have questions regarding some of the events."

"I'll send Peeta over—"

"No it's fine," I cut. The two of them look at me, some inquisitiveness in Haymitch's stare. I blush. I realize that Haymitch is probably Peeta's confidant here.

"I mean I can understand it. No need to explain it to me."

"Uh-huh." He chuckles and I blush even more. It's not that I don't like Peeta, I mean I like him a lot but after what happened yesterday, I can't face him. I kissed him. He was the one who started it, but he pulled away. I pulled him in. I've never done that before—I think—and I feel appalling.

"Okay, but I'm still gonna send him over. That kid likes to talk." He chuckles and leaves.

"Humph. That man has no manners." Effie disapprovingly says. I can only laugh, nervously though. I have no confidence to see Peeta. I'm still discomfited about what happened.

"Hey Catnip," Gale greets, striding through the doorway like it's his house. He sees Effie sitting on one of the plush chairs beside the sofa. "Effie, Hi." She gives him a trademark Effie smile and sips her tea. "Hey, " I greet back. He sits down, and smells slightly of pine. I don't know where Gale goes off to these days. Most probably into the woods, but he never tells me and I don't ask. "You're watching the Games," he says and sits down beside me. We're at the District 11 interview, the girl—Rue, as I've learned— answering questions from a very blue Caesar Flickerman. Effie fills me on some of the parts she's present at the time, and had told me about the parts on the train, which is not shown. I've gotten a score of 11, and she's told me that I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers. I kind of remember that part, with a man stumbling back into a bowl of punch.

Gale's eyes focus on the screen but he has his jaw set, like he's thinking deep about something. Like he's worried about something. "What's wrong?" I ask, straightening up and matching my best friend's stance which is at the edge of the couch and hands clasped together.

"Nothing." His eyebrows are knitted together, worried. Has something happened? I don't bother to ask him though. He dislikes being asked too much. I just mumble an okay and rest my back on the soft plush.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Katniss Everdeen from District 12!" This, I have to watch. I know that I'm tense onscreen. I found the girl zoning out, not hearing Caesar's question to her. It also seems that the onscreen isn't the real her at all. She's giggling and twirling; very girly. That's probably why I kissed Peeta. Because the horrible truth is, I'm becoming more and more like that every day. It's humiliating and also pleasing at the same time. Ugh.

"…Can you tell us about her?".

"Her name's Prim. She's just twelve. And I love her more than anything."

They're—we're talking about her. I swallow the lump in my throat. The atmosphere is grave, the silence deafening. Gale turns to me, I try my best not to look at him. "Maybe we should just stop this." He says softly. I shush him and listen to the show.

"What did she say to you? After the reaping?"Caesar asks.

"She asked me to try really hard to win." The audience is frozen, hanging on my every word.

"And what did you say?" prompts Caesar gently.

"I swore I would." My voice was trembling, and seems to have dropped.

"I bet you did," Caesar says, giving me a squeeze. The buzzer goes off. "Sorry, we're out of time. Best of luck, Katniss Everdeen, tribute from District Twelve."

The crowd applauds and I exhale. I can feel the emotion of Katniss Everdeen. Not the amnesiac Katniss, but who probably is the best one. Effie squeezes my hand and I smile back at her. I don't remember the Effie I was familiar with not even knowing if I liked her or not, but I guess I should be fond of her. She isn't so bad.

Peeta is soon seated next to Caesar and my heart rate picks up, the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Just the image of him brings anxiety. I wonder what will happen when he comes here.

"Do you still want to watch this, I mean we can skip to the Games if you like." I give Gale a questioning stare. Why does he want to skip Peeta's interview? Is there something wrong with it?

"No, it's okay. I want to watch it."

"Good! This is my favorite part, where Peeta confesses his love for you!" Effie says, clapping her hands like a trained seal. The butterflies start dancing all around like crazy. I've forgotten. Peeta smugly relayed to me all about his confession, which at the time I was so blissful about. I try to hide the flush on my face and the look of delight. There I go again. Gale remains silent and stares at his hands, which he clenches and unclenches.

"Tell me, do I still smell like roses?" Peeta is charming, and a smile forms on my face. A person must be crazy if he does not find this amiable.

Gale heckles, and shakes his head. I ignore him. Caesar asks Peeta if he has a girlfriend back home. He shakes his head. I exhale. I didn't realize I was holding my breath.

"Handsome lad like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?"

"Well, there is this one girl. I've had a crush on her since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know allow I was alive until the reaping."

My heart beats against my rib cage, pounding. Unconsciously, I release a sigh. The two other people are now staring at me, Effie smiling and Gale, I don't know.

"She have another fellow?"

"I don't know, but a lot of boys like her."

"So here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down then, eh?

"I don't think it's going to work out. Winning… won't help in my case,"

"Why ever not?"

"Because…because…she came here with me."

I smile, not even shy to do so. Then I notice Gale stare at me, and his unceremonious storming out of the door.

REVIEWING IS SO DARN APPRECIATED ;P