He felt nothing—no heat or cold. Whatever was touching him made no imprint, no feel of texture. Whatever he layed on simply existed, it simply was and that was all. The grey and black hues of his vision remained. Something obscured him from his home. He could not smell the earthy tones, the coal dust and trees. He couldn't move.

Why was he still here? Why was he alone here? Why wasn't he gone?

When was the last time he actually saw someone or felt something? Was it a day ago? A month? A year? He'd had a lot of time to think of those last memories.

The feel of her lips on his, the soft whispering of her voice saying she needed to go home. He let her slip away from him in the night, not knowing it would be the last time he saw her. Was she alive? Had she escaped?

If he had known, what would have changed? Maybe he should have told her that he loved her, that he always loved her like his brother had told that Everdeen girl. He'd learned that life wasn't what you expected, it wasn't even what you wanted…He learned the lesson well when his brother volunteered for the games this time. He wasn't coming back for real this time.

Peeta had told him that before, of course. And he'd told him there would be other girls, other loves if only he came back. But Peeta knew it for the lie it was, knew that he loved Delly and had wanted to tell her all his life. It was Peeta that had convinced him to tell her.

And as he stood there, ready to rush after her—to tell her that he did love her, the voice of his father cried out. His lips closed and he did not call for her as he moved back into the house. Was his brother really dead this time?

He knew that Peeta had promised to save Katniss…and the baby.

Why had he not told them? Why had he kept this from them? Why had he not shared the toasting or the news of a baby with him? They'd barely seen him or Katniss speak or talk for months before the Victory Tour, then they had been together all the time—staying in shape.

He'd had a lot of time to think about it as he stared into this nothingness, maybe they knew what was coming. Maybe they didn't want to hurt them….But then why tell at all?

His mind drifted back to that night. He'd rushed into the bakery, hurried in to the decrepit tv in the back and settled in with his family. His younger brother sat there, pain etched on his face—he could have volunteered but he hadn't and he'd been blaming himself ever since.

The fighting transpired, Katniss was down and for a moment he felt a surge of loss for his niece or nephew, for the sister-in-law he'd never gotten to know, for his brother failing to save her as she laid there unmoving. But that Johanna girl whispered, "Stay down."

The cameras were going everywhere, going wild and then they were fighting—Peeta and was it Brutus? He was screaming her name, and camera panned back to Katniss struggling up the hill screaming his name louder and louder. But why?

And then he saw it, what he'd not been able to see before—that she was desperately in love with Peeta, and trying to save him despite the cost of herself. Either way, the Mellarks would be losing a lot today.

She screamed and screamed, the blood dripping down her head as she winds some wire around the arrow. "What's she doing?" He hears his mother's shaking voice.

But Katniss turns her bow to the sky and fires.

The world bursts into brilliant patterns of shattering stars and fireworks. There's a crack, the lifeless bodies on the ground and then everything goes pitch black. For a moment, he had sat there not knowing what was happening. What was going on?

He walked outside in the streets where things were quiet, there were other people standing there too. Every light was out in the town. The peacekeepers looked alarmed, shocked and confused at what was going on. Their white uniforms shone in the darkness.

I had stepped back into the bakery, "The lights are out everywhere."

"I'll get candles," my father said. "You go find out what's going on."

I moved back into the street, but no one—not even the Peacekeepers knew what was happening. The whole town was eerily quiet until it wasn't.

My eyes drifted to the sky, the sounds of the hovercrafts above drawing everyone's eyes. I didn't realize what was happening until the first bomb fell—right on the bakery.

I screamed as the whole world slid into panic. There was nothing left to go back to, no chance for survivors. They were there…and now they were gone. Peeta and Katniss were probably gone too…and Delly.

"Delly!" My voice screams, but nothing can be heard above the bombs at first.

I move toward the edge of town, calling her name and I hear Gale Hawthorne screaming for people to follow him.

The whistle grows loud till it's almost shrill in my ears and then there's blinding light, then nothing.

I've been in this constant state since then. I don't see anything but the greyscale, I hear sounds but nothing important—not for a long time.

I've had a lot of time to ponder, to wonder why I'm still here. I think it's because I need to know, I can't let go…Is Peeta or Delly or Katniss alive? Maybe that's why I hold on and keep holding on to this existence.

When the sound finally comes, I don't recognize it at first. It's the sound of a hovercraft. I hear it landing, I hear the sharp bark of orders—of moving and then something dislodges me and sends me rolling.

The world is dizzying colours as I spin and bounce around, and when it stops I can see her. She lays on the ground, her fingers inches away from my skull and her face is pale and sick. She stares at me, and I wonder if there's anything left of my head to identify?

Her words are so soft, I wonder if she's actually speaking them or if somehow I can just hear them. "I killed you," her voice says flatly.

She stares at me a long time, a very long time. I try to ask her things, but of course, she can't hear me…I'm dead. She's alive, that matters. And the baby? I don't' know but she's alive, she's okay. I try to ask about Peeta, will her to say something but nothing happens.

Finally, she moves away from me and I hate that I can't move after her. But someone's hands pick up my skull and move me out of the pathway and I can see her in the distance as I'm set down.

She's standing at the bakery, and there's a slow smoldering smoke coming from it still. I know my family is there, and somehow I hear her words though her lips don't move. "Peeta would have nothing to come home to, anway. Except me…

He's alive.

Inspiration drawn from this text:

The summer's been scorching hot and dry as a bone. There's been next to no rain to disturb the piles of ash left by the attack. They shift here and there, in reaction to my footsteps. No breeze to scatter them. I keep my eyes on what I remember as the road, because when I first landed in the Meadow, I wasn't careful and I walked right into a rock. Only it wasn't a rock — it was someone's skull. It rolled over and over and landed faceup, and for a long time I couldn't stop looking at the teeth, wondering whose they were, thinking of how mine would probably look the same way under similar circumstances.

I stick to the road out of habit, but it's a bad choice, because it's full of the remains of those who tried to flee. Some were incinerated entirely. But others, probably overcome with smoke, escaped the worst of the flames and now lie reeking in various states of decomposition, carrion for scavengers, blanketed by flies. I killed you, I think as I pass a pile. And you. And you.

Mockingjay, Chapter 1.