I'm bombing you guys with a huge AN up here as there isn't one at the end. And thank you for all the love (and freaking out) on the last chapter.

First off, I want to thank everyone for reading this, I love you all. You're such amazing people for having enough endurance and kindness to put up with me when I had almost quit writing and during all the times I was struggling with it. You've been there to encourage me, remind me that I had a story to tell; you showed me what I could not see.

Now it hasn't sunk in that this is over and that's why I'm taking it so well. It's amazing and sad, I'm conflicted, I'm proud to say I was able to finish what I started but sad to say I'll never write a new chapter of Running again. And call me crazy but I've grown attached to this story like it's my child.

I remember starting this book, I was in a bad place in my life, not horrible, I just wasn't exactly seeing clearly. I started this book because I wanted to write about someone who has a terrible life, but watched it become better despite what happened. This book was with me as things began to look up, and it's with me now.

As for my future here on wattpad and even

, I'm unsure of what will happen, I may write an original story actually. I actually would like to revise this entire book and just read it, I'm excited to read this, I've never read it as one piece before. I may enter the watty's but I don't know.

I'll put an AN up in this book if I do anything in the future. I'm actually looking into writing a Nanowrimo, and if you're writing one too, I encourage you to contact me. I'd love to have some friends to go into that with.

(Nanowrimo is a challenge. You write a 50,000 novel in a single month. Which is November. Google it for details.)

I have to end this but I don't want to. But if there's anyone reading this considering to begin writing. I tell you do it. I was discouraged by my age. Remember no one else can speak your words for you, you have a voice that deserves to be discovered just as much as the next person. It's kind of amazing to be able to write your thoughts and be heard, the freedom to write anything of your imagination is magnificent too.

Oh and I was able to complete my goal, this is before my birthday! :)

That's it, I wish you all the best, I love you all. Even the shy people who don't vote or comment.

Lots and lots (and lots) of love,

~Fly_on22 or Shannon :)

* This is the happy ending. The sad one was well, too sad. You'll see. *

This chapter is over 5,000 words, shorter than the last but still quite long. It was longer but I deleted a part. This story ended up to be around 110,000 words long, that's the length of the Hunger Games.

For the final time, enjoy. :)

Do you know what's worth fighting for?

When it's not worth dying for?

Does it take your breath away and you feel yourself suffocating?

Does the pain weigh out the pride?

And you look for a place to hide?

Did someone break your heart inside, you're in ruins

"21 guns,"

by Green day

Chapter 40: Give up the fight

When I get home I feel so heavy, it's as if I'd fell in a pond on the way here, my clothes aren't soaked though or even heavy, the weight is inside me. I continue my strides straight through the house until I reach the white-tiled bathroom in our room. Everyone must've went out to eat. I'm glad to be alone.

And that's when the night takes its toll on my sanity.

The door clicks behind me and I stare back at my startling reflection in the oversized mirror over the sink. There I am indignantly looking back, overly pale with my mouth set in a straight, thin line. It's as if all the walking I've just done holds no effect, I'm not weary just alive with fire. My mind has no mercy on me and my head is exploding with the hauntingly real image of Peeta coupling with Glimmer. But no longer is it a unrealistic fear and image. It's reality. All along I was right; he'd end up with another Merchant, I was just played like a game. Oh how I should've listened to my gut and shunned him from the very moment he first spoke to me. But then again, I wouldn't be here if I hadn't. How could someone so dearly significant to me do that to me? I never should have got together with him, that's where I should've put my foot down. At least I was right in my actions and didn't make the mistake in allowing myself to get bonded deeper with Peeta. I never fully trusted him, I was too guarded, but I was starting to and if I found out any later I'd be shattered now. I'm not some fragile weak girl he can destroy though. He was a liar. A no good blonde haired, blue-eyed liar. He was a merchant for crying out loud! I was deceived and misled. I want to refuse to be completely, utterly, hurt by him, but I know I am already. I was made a fool by him, used for entertainment.

My stomach burns with regret and shame for telling him about my lack of a childhood in my weakest moments.

My eyes cast down from the mirror, I can't stand my image any longer, I'm such a disgrace. There underneath the mirror lies a pair of silver clippers, I notice them as the ones Annie uses on occasion to trim her hair. Now I see them as an escape of my haunting image. I draw them into my grasp, they are cool underneath my palm, it feels so right, I can change, I'm not the same.

I immediately pull my braid out with my free hand. It falls in a bouncy black mane. I used to think of my unbelievably long hair as my best asset but no longer, now it makes look like a prisoner to my eyes. What was once my best attribute is now my worst. And I have to change it. I hate it, the sight of myself, of the girl who let herself be manipulated makes my blood boil.

It's like a million voices chant me on, my shaky hand lifts them, their blades intertwine around a strand of thick black hair. I apply pressure and they come together in a quick snipping sound, I watch as the discarded hair twirls through the air, the light catching in it for a brief moment before it hits the ground around my feet so quickly and lands in a heap. It's darkness lies there in a stark contrast against the white flooring.

Hooded eyes look back in the mirror when I look up, a girl stands there, a strand of her raven hair is cut to her shoulder while the rest runs to her thighs. Warmth burns through my veins and like an untamable addiction I do it again, I bring the metallic clippers back to my hair and cut another piece off. It feels so satisfying when I feel the weight of my hair lessen and instead feel it gather in dark piles around my feet. I don't stop. Before I know it a blanket of my own hair has gathered around me. And I see a new girl arise in the mirror, she has less hair but that look in her eyes remain. No this isn't enough.

I recall the girls who dye their hair with kool-aid from school. Instantly my feet are skittering across the floor to the covert. Within minutes I have found what I'm looking for, two packets of tropical punch kool-aid. Red, like a flame. Yes that will work perfect.

I'm not even sure how they do it but I don't even bother to think about it I just want to add to my new appearance now. Now I watch eagerly as the bathroom sink fills with water as soon as it's reached a quarter way in I stop it. Quickly I find an old green towel, it's seems to lost it's vibrance from multiple washings and it's ends seem to be fraying, it'll work though. I don't think they'd be mad about this towel getting stained. Foggy headed and only focused on getting this done I empty the packets into the filled sink and watch the red mingle with clear. It slowly, gracefully swirls around like ribbon. Not caring about staining my skin at the moment, I stir the water with my hands just to speed up the process and give an empty smile when it fully is red. It seems too thin though. My eyes move away from the the sink and I look towards the shower, conditioner, it'll help it thicken. I add an awful lot of white lavender-scented conditioner in before stirring it in. I lean down and put the tips of my hair in deciding it's ready. Vigorously, I run my hands through the tips of my hair with dollops of the dye in them. When nearly all the conditioner has been applied from the ends of my hair to the mid-point I stop. What now? I'll let it sit.

After five minutes of awkwardly leaning over the sink I turn the faucet on to wash it away.

When I finish I wrap my hair in the towel, then I let it undone. Wet hair travels down before coming to my shoulders at a halt. Half red, half black. My feet stand on a pile of what used to be myself. The wet hair is sticky against the nape of my neck.

My eyes hold the same blaze within them though, no matter what or how much different I look I'm still Katniss. The girl who was misunderstood, mistreated and betrayed.

Life is horrible and it's definitely not looking up.

I'm not even in control of my actions anymore, I pick up the scissors once again, but with no intention of cutting my hair. I fleetingly graze my cheek with the blade, I drag it down past my lips and jaw, I find the sharp part of the blade pressed against the skin of my neck. I add a little pressure and pull the point along my throat watching in the mirror, the pressure is enough to leave pink behind but if I were to increase it, the skin would be broken and I'd see red and hopefully I could puncture something significant to my survival, like an air pipe.

The scissors fall with a clatter to the counter, I'm so stupid I can't even find the courage to end this. The rest of my family is dead, why can't I just follow them?

With a small heartless sigh I cross the room and fall to the bed sticky red hair and all. I tangle in the sheets like a small child without anyone to tuck them in. I sure feel helpless like a small child.

I watch a flock of birds out the window, they're gone within a minute of their arrival, I suppose I need to be like them.

I need to fly on.

Sleep sways me into its clutches, I dream of nothing but waves, powerful and dangerous and overwhelming. I hopelessly watch as they tower above me and crack, and I only have a fleeting moment to panic, and to bid air goodbye, before they force me down. Afterwards I can only roll around in the aftermath and search, so desperately for the surface and panic when another breaks and throws me back to the bottom and air begins to run short. And when I do obtain air just in time, my heart is rattling, and my nose running and stinging, with aching lungs and a set of trembling legs threatening to collapse any second. Then I'm slammed back down by another wave. It's an overwhelming process, and a terrifying mindset. And overall I just can't breathe.

And I decide the moment I wake that if this will appear every time I sleep then I don't want to live anymore.

Knowing in my heart suicide isn't the answer I try to sleep again with my aching heart and stinging throat.

When I hear the open a few hours later I run to the shower, afraid for anyone to see me in such a state, I wash the stickiness out of my hair. The red remains strong and vibrant, and I'm glad. I'd hadn't even cut my hair evenly and it's in spiky ends smothered with red, this is the new me.

In the end I blame the red spots in the bed on my period, I hadn't even bothered lying my head on the pillow so it's believable. I assure everyone I'll wash it myself, Annie lends me some pads, I give her a faux smile.

Truth is, I hadn't even had my period since I was thirteen, it ceases when you become malnourished, if you can't even find enough food to support yourself then your body knows better to think you can support a baby too. It's believable though, everyone had expected my period to come back because I'm eating again.

My decisions last night were rash and unplanned, I miss my long hair but I don't regret them. Hopefully Peeta will understand the meaning.

It's crazy how a day started with a kiss ended with me slamming the door to the bakery.

Like I promised that sorrow-filled day that seems like years ago, I return to my dad. The dirt is still torn up from the weeping I did there a few days ago too. In this moment I feel embarrassed for it; being so weak and needy. But I didn't have a choice those tears were inevitable. I just wish I hadn't ran to Peeta with them. Life's so cruel and unfair; I shouldn't be in situations like these, I shouldn't have to depend on people outside my family so much. It's wrong but absolutely real. The raw truth has always struck pain into the hearts of those who notice it, and I had the misfortune of being one to seek it.

I kneel down next to the forgotten grave stone and wipe the debris of plants beginning to grow atop it. Not even Seam graveyards are well kept, I remind myself stonily.

I used to get a blissful yet nonchalant feeling of peace when I was near the earthy spot where my father lays forever. Not anymore though, it seems. Everything feels hollow. I thought I was putting the puzzle pieces of life together, - finally, but was I really? It doesn't seem so. I've never been this lost, and I thought I was something like an expert in that area.

"I came back," I whisper softly, my voice so small and breathy it's something like the light whistle of the wind. I know there is no need to speak louder. My fingers can't stop stroking his name that was sharply engraved by a meticulous hand to the large cool gray stone.

"Things happened." I swallow thickly alleviating the tension in my throat.

"I think I'm being run around in circles by people. But I'm trying to gain more control of my life now."

I blink, feeling suddenly urged to speak more. Everything in my unfeeling heart wants to burst, not with tears, no I've cried enough, but with confessions. I want to admit I'm confused and I have a great lack of understanding for life or anything anymore. But no one who can give a reply ever hears.

"You remember Glimmer, from when I was a kid? I think I've figured out why she always used to be - I mean is so ugly towards me."

I take a great breath and my hand settles, suddenly coming to a stop over my father's name. The cold seeps into my hands and it feels like it flows through my veins chilling my empty, rattling, heart.

"She's jealous. She wishes she had people who love her, like I do, or used to at least. Most of her time is spent in that big, isolated, lonely, mansion. The rest is spent chasing boys and grabbing attention." I pause and breathe heavily, the crisp air blanketing me feels refreshing and nice, like a pat on the shoulder or a swift cold kiss to the cheek. "Makes sense, doesn't it?"

I look up and watch as a bird leaps across the limbs of a mossy tree with a dense roof.

"You always said money didn't define a person. And I understand that now, I really do."

I tug at the jacket on my shoulders, it's so comfortable yet the thought of it breaks my heart.

"I wear your jacket quite a bit. Of course it's still too big on me." I zip it up enclosing myself in it's warm cocoon and nudge my nose against the collar before breathing in. "I haven't washed it since you left. Sometimes when I can't sleep I wear it, I think it still smells exactly like you, but maybe I'm imagining it. I sure hope not."

I pause and speak of what's been weighing down on my mind like wet clothes.

"You'd be pretty disappointed but I started falling for a boy and then he did something. I don't blame him and it was for the better I guess but I just didn't expect it. I never deserved him anyways, of course, I know you'd be telling me I shouldn't think like that." I solemnly drop my head and crinkle fibers of grass between my fingers. "He was merchant. Everyone verbally attacked us like they did to you and mom."

I find it tough to speak of Peeta out loud.

After a moment, I look up from my hands realizing what I never told my dad.

"Mom died. Of course you know that."

I drop the clipped pieces of grass.

"I'm conflicted. I should forgive her but everything in me is screaming no."

It's then a butterflies papery wings tickle my fingers outstretched on the grave stone and startle me. The wings are yellow dappled in uneven spots of black. Beautiful. I realize it's the first butterfly I've seen this Spring. On the edge of the graveyard I find patches of yellow and white flowers, I lay them at my father's gravestone. I leave the grave yard a bit after still feeling nothing like myself. It doesn't last long because I'm immersed into reality and the pile of my troubles after a few steps.

I spend quite a bit of time on studying and looking over school work the following weeks. It's almost the end of the year and I need to get my grades back up after they fell during my struggles. I have to pass.

There's a strange sense of sadness when it comes to the subject of Peeta. The boy who I cared for once, and I was quite sure cared for me.

Work at the bakery is weird and awkward. Peeta sometimes tries to start small talk with me but there is never the easy nature we shared once. I don't think it will return, maybe not everything is restored with time.

Sometimes I find Peeta looking at me with those longing eyes again, like some fool. He knows he killed anything between us. I snap on him eventually, just once, and we never meet eyes again when I come to work after. Afterwards I regret it, I know life must not be easy for him either but I just feel so used by him. It's true, I would've quit that job in a heartbeat had I not been so prideful. I can't take and take from Annie's family and make no income.

Eventually, I tell Annie what happened, she takes it about as well as I did. As stupid as it is I smile at her outburst, she's a real friend. Maybe everything's not lost.

She immediately contacts Finnick who, like her or I, didn't know. That feels like some weight taken off my shoulders, however small it is.

As for Annie she eventually reaches the grand age of sixteen and Finnick swoops by the house and takes her on date that very night. That very night we, Annie and I, peek around the corner and listen as Elijah talks to Finnick about Annie. I laugh quite a bit. But it's a hollow sound that leaves my throat. Annie just turns pink next to me.

After they leave and everything calms I stalk back to the empty roon and sulk there until Annie returns many hours later. And I realize why I'm so down; it hurts to watch them interact with each other, Annie and Finnick.

I watch romances and Glimmer's stomach grow. Everything and everyone moves forward except myself. Thoughts of Peeta loom above me like dark heavy clouds and the very look I chastised him for I find on my own face. Longing.

I constantly question myself of why I put myself here, so attached to someone, I was never one of these girls. But the answer is, he caught me unaware and steadily made a move on me and it happened gradually. And now look at me, I'm alive but not living, I'm stuck in my body, constantly moving around, doing things, not unlike a ghost and my heart is never with me, never invested in my actions or emotions. I want to say goodbye to life all together but I can't.

I'm such a fool.

Maybe that's all I am, a piece in the hands of society, of people, my moves are not my own and my heart and mind are caged in the middle of it.

Or maybe I'm just unable to hold my mind together anymore.

Today was my birthday. Annie and Finnick surprised me with a small party, and a cake with seventeen candles, one for each of the years I've endured. Peeta didn't show up, I'm not sure why I even entertained the thought of him coming. He's gone with a soon-to-be-wife and a baby on the way. I figure he's moved on and it's time for me to as well.

But I saw him everywhere today, because in a different life with different circumstances he would be here with me. Carrying a smile so bright, so grand, that even the sun would envy it. The atmosphere would be lighter and more cheerful too.

I'd be happier to, no doubt.

A good friend makes you feel like you have wings, they make you braver somehow, it's like anything is within your reach. When I was with him, for that short time I felt invincible, it was more than just a good friendship, we were clinging to the line between good friends and lovers. That feeling was ripped away from me so suddenly, like it was some bandage I had placed over a festering wound and I'm constantly struck with the cruel harshness of reality. There's nothing but this odd, painful feeling that makes me want to cry, but what's worse of all is that I can't cry, I can't forget, and I most certainly can't live.

And I'm not sure what to do anymore.

I survive. Time goes ever slowly like years but life becomes okay.

I feel good about myself for once. I just finished high school, I'm full of relief and I'm proud, I know I passed, I'll be an adult soon enough, I'll be able to get an apartment, not that I don't like Annie's family, but I'll be independent, I'll have more direction in my life.

The baby was born last year, in late fall, or so I hear. Although I can't help but feel a little bitter about it. I ignored Peeta this whole year but I always feel horrible at just the mere sight of him, I'm becoming better though. Glimmer dropped out before she finished her Junior year to take care of the baby. I know she'll be fine, her family is rich after all, she'll never have to work a day in her life.

I'd passed eleventh grade last spring, which was, by far, the roughest school year in my life. My senior year went much better, I focused my attention in school, I even get up to a high B in math. I'd quit the bakery after graduation last year, I found a job in that bright loud clothes shop Annie likes so much.

It's spring again. The sun is warm, it feels nice, my skin is cold from the freezing air conditioning in the school. I choose to walk home early today, everyone else is lingering around the school, talking to friends, I'm not jealous of them anymore, that's them and it's okay.

For some reason I'm just happy to be on the familiar path home from school, I won't be walking it anymore, there's some sense of bittersweet finality with it. School's over and the way I've lived since birth is officially gone, I'm taking on a new phase of life now.

"Hey, wait up, please?" My eyes widens when I recognize the voice and the heavy footsteps.

The air in my lungs catch and I stop as Peeta jogs up beside me. "Peeta. . . it's been a while." That's an understatement, he's grown so much in the past year, his hairs a little shorter, he's just a bit more stocky, his chest a tad bit broader as well as his mid-section, and there's the faintest bit of pale stubble on his chin, you can only see it with the assistance of the sunlight. His eyes, however, are still the same vibrant shade like they had been before, there's something off though, they're older more matured and somber. Of course I'd kept tabs on him across the hallways at school and noted the difference, but I just hadn't been up close to him. It's the closest we've been since that day last spring.

We continue down the sidewalk, his loud footsteps the absolute opposite of mine still.

"Yeah it has been," he agrees blue eyes looking me over like I'd looked over him, taking in every new detail. I notice that has voice is the tiniest bit deeper than before. We've both fully matured now.

"How's your baby doing," I ask casually wringing my hands together. A year ago I'd have sneered those words at him, but now I'm just genuinely curious, I don't want to spend a life glaring at Peeta Mellark in the background. I've learned to handle the pain he afflicted upon me by his stupid decisions. After all, yes he messed up, but his existence hasn't been all bad. I try to remember the good things he's done for me when it's tough, I actually make a list in my mind.

"The baby's healthy, actually. I was just thinking you should know, we did a test. Anyway the baby has blonde hair but brown eyes, mine are blue Glimmer's are green. What I'm trying to get out is we're certain it's not mine."

I gasp in surprise, unsure of how to respond, I know Peeta was looking forward to being a father but could he be glad to not have got another girl pregnant by accident?

"What are you going to do then?" I inquire blood flowing, eager to know the answer.

"I'm not going to stick around for something that isn't mine." He rubs the nape of his neck. "Turns out she wanted me just as somebody to take the blame as well, she wanted someone to raise the baby with. I agreed to help her find the father though, I'm certain it's Cato - you remember him? He was on the football team with me."

How could I forget Cato, the cold towering blonde running back. Peeta quit the team last year, after our separation, he was dedicated to being a father. "Yeah I remember," I say stifling a yawn, I squint as the sun glares in my eyes, and continue walking at a lazy pace with Peeta.

"I didn't explain everything and I feel really guilty about that, I was an absolute jerk to not chase you down and explain it."

I nod, truly curious about how everything went down. I've been wondering for a year now. "You were in shock that night, I understand that."

His walking and any of his movement ceases as he speaks.

"Yes, still, it's not an excuse. I'm sorry for not approaching you before and telling you. First off, I hadn't known before when I was with you, I didn't take advantage of you like that."

Some of the remaining tension in my chest eases. He stops blue eyes burning, I stop too and give him my full attention.

"Glimmer had called me before I went into the bakery that night, I could hear her sobs on the other side of the phone. She told me then and there she was pregnant with my baby."

He runs his hands through his hair, "I was scared out of my wits, I wasn't sure what to do."

He moves a little and his shoulders block the suns vicious, relentless rays from my view. The light of it is splayed out all around him, and it makes his sandy hair glow. I smile fondly, remembering when we were on better terms.

"What?" He asks completely confused at my sudden rare smile.

"You're hairs glowing, but go on."

He chortles softly. "Awesome."

"Anyways," he continues, completely serious once again. "I slept with her, yes, it was at a party, I was drunk, I know I told you I don't drink and I didn't then either, but I was pressured into drinking that night. Being drunk is still no excuse, I just thought you should know the whole story."

We continue to walk, it's pleasant to have him at my side. "No hard feelings," I tell him, almost fully feeling it, I know it's the right thing to say though.

"Thank you, I'm glad to know we're okay.I think our troubles happen for a reason though," I look over to meet his eyes and tighten my hold on the strap of my backpack. "They help us find ourselves, it was a horrible thing that happened to me, so many horrible things happened to you, I have it good though I'm not going to complain about that. "You-" he sucks in air between his teeth, "You're strong, I'll give you that. What I'm trying to say is maybe the bad things that happen to us aren't so bad though, they make us wiser. . . better. Even Glimmer getting pregnant wasn't bad, that baby has made her a better person. She stopped her party life, improved her ways."

I nod slowly, grasping his outlook on everything, and it's beautiful saying that it's all good. That even all the curses are still, somehow blessings. "Yes," I smile a little meeting his eye, "I definitely understand that."

And I do full know what he means. I guess it's just life, all of us face problems of some sorts, each unique and distinctly us, we can't wish away our past but we can fix it or at least try.

"I'm glad Katniss, I'm glad."

There's a comfortable silence as we continue our walk. I realize he abandoned all his friends on the final day of school to seek me out. I feel grateful for that. We steadily approach the part where the road forks and we'll have to say goodbye.

"What did you see in me," I ask suddenly.

"What do you mean?" he questions, eyebrows pinched together.

"What did you see in me when I was in the woods?"

He smiles as bright as the sun, making it seem like his answer is so easy to figure out.

"A strong, graceful, girl who deserved to be loved. Not because she was weak and needy, but because she deserves the best life has to offer," he murmurs his words low and ardently.

"Well, you might've not been seeing clearly."

"Oh no," he grins, "you're the one who wasn't seeing clearly."

I scoff.

We finally arrive at the end of the road where we'll have to separate to go our ways. "I'll see you around?"

"Of course." I reply, I can't think of any where else I would go.

He smiles and waves before skipping off down the road.

I watch Peeta walk away, blonde hair seemingly gold in the sunlight. My hand goes up as a silent wave goodbye.

I've come to learn a little secret, who you date during your teenage years isn't really important , but who you make of yourself during those few unforgettable years is a significance of a whole new level.

Will I ever see Peeta as a trustworthy friend again? No one knows only time will be able to answer.

Of course I'm a different person but it's all for the better, I'll never get some things back, like my family, but I'm alright. I'm not alone and far better off than how I was before.

A wobbly understanding of life flares up within me, though it hasn't been noticed until now it's as if something's drastically changed, I'm smarter than I was. I now see everything as a seventeen year old with a family and a home's point of view rather than in an abandoned homeless sixteen year old's place. It's like Peeta said, we're wiser. It seems like a beginning of sorts, and that sounds more than okay.

I change my mind, about where I want to go and bask in the realization that I've just finished school.

I dash to the woods feeling light and free of my bondage.

After all, the beginning is the best place to start. . . or restart.

The end.

Epilogue

The first time I saw the child that caused my separation from Peeta, I couldn't breathe. It's as if some invisible force has wrung its hands around my neck and begun to choke me. Immediately I had turned away and briskly walked in the other direction, it was a hasty attempt to get away, and I'm not sure if Peeta or Glimmer saw me or not that day. It was in a market which I never stepped foot in again.

Peeta wanted to be a father so much he agreed to helping Glimmer with her child. They now spend quite a bit of time together, they're just friends though. I wondered why Peeta, never adopted a child, or seeked out a girl to call his. Maybe dating was just not for him.

I had moved a little farther into town so seeing him was rare. The next time was five years later, when I was shopping for a gift for Annie's bridal shower. She and Finnick were engaged, finally, I couldn't believe it.

Of course I had taken precautions and tried to stay away from Peeta, but I couldn't do anything about it if I simply ran into him. It was in a home goods store that we met, he was buying new equipment for the bakery which he was refurbishing.

He eyes seemed bluer and his hair fuller, he was gorgeous in my eyes. Peeta had grown into his broad form and lost the boyish look. A lazy blonde five year old was being held at his hip, and being something like a father had made his smile even more radiant.

Peeta had asked me how I was doing and I had replied with a simple answer. Good.

Glimmer had rounded the corner and her eyes widened when she saw me. But she didn't lash out or even glower. Maybe Peeta was good for her.

It was eight years after Peeta and I broke up that we became friends again. After a while I was friends with Glimmer too. I wondered what Peeta told her about me that made her have respect for me. And she was a good person once she was doing right rather than wrong. Spending so much time with Peeta had obliterated most of her negativity. You see, he has this beautiful effect on people, and you can't help but mold into something better the more you are around him. I had the firsthand blessing of being a victim to it, even if it was only for a little while. Before I'd wondered how he gained friends of all kinds so quickly, but now I know. The flames of his kindness attract the bystanders like moths.

Eventually Annie and Finnick came to like Glimmer too. It's after we all become close friends that life is alright and once again that I believe everything happens for a reason.

I, Katniss Everdeen, am a writer by day.

At night I lie awake imagining a better life and different worlds. And I know what I had was true love years ago, but I've lost it.

This is not a perfect life but now I have some stability; anything is better than running.