“Peeta, thank you for coming.” Snow says

I’m in Snow’s office for the first time since my visit to the doctors in the basement. I feel different now. Sick and confused and scared, all the time. I hate, hate, HATE it. I want to go home now. I want my father, I want my brothers. God help me, I even want my mother.

“That’s okay.” I answer sullenly

“How was your stay been?” He asks

“Considerably worse, recently.” I scowl

“Yes, it’s to be expected.” Snow explains

A smile plays on his lips as he asks “And may I ask your what your feelings are where Miss Everdeen is concerned?”

And I’m not sure why, but something inside of me snaps. I feel myself getting hot and shaky, as if an insane rage has possessed me. I stand up.

“I HATE her. She’s a mutt, she’s a stinking mutt. A liar. A faker. A MURDERER.” I spit out, irate.

And for some reason I feel hot tears burning my eyes.

“Peeta?” Snow asks, standing up.

“Could…could I go?” I ask, my voice cracking.

Snow nods, “Okay, goodbye, Peeta.”

I have to escape right now, I can’t breathe. I throw the door open and run from the room. I sprint up the stairs, tears spilling down my cheeks and blurring my vision.

I go into my room and shut myself in the bathroom. I look in the mirror and my reflection startles me. A pale boy with limp blonde hair stares back at me. His devastated blue eyes are watery with tears and have dark shadows under them. His skin is deathly white, and shiny with tears. The boy in the mirror looks scarily thin, ghost-like. Mad. It’s me and I’m scared.

I don’t know why I hate Katniss so much, or why I don’t remember anything. It’s like being in a world where nothing makes sense. Like I’m drowning, but nobody’s helping. Like I don’t see the same thing everyone else does. I’m so confused and I wish with all my heart that I’m going to wake up. This will all be a horrible nightmare. But no, this is reality. I start to cry again. Confused, angry, terrified. Mad.

Then someone knocks on the bathroom. I rub my eyes.

“Come in.” I whisper.

Rita opens the door, takes one look at me, and sits down on the edge of the bath. I sit down next to her.

“I’m crazy.” I tell her, staring into space.

She shakes her head firmly.

“I am.” I tell her. “I don’t remember anything and I hate her.”

Rita’s eyes are questioning.

“Katniss. I hate Katniss.” I say, looking at Rita. Even Katniss’s name makes me clench my fists .

Rita lays a hand on my closed fist and gently prises it open.

“I’m scared.” I say “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know why I hate Katniss but I do. I hate her so so so much. She HAS to die.”

Rita shakes her head.

She leaves and half an hour later, I emerge from the bathroom. My eyes are sore from crying and I just want to crawl into bed. Something catches my eye, however, in my room. There, on my easel is a painting. It’s white, where I painted over Katniss’s face. But now it has writing on in Rita’s familiar cursive.

“Love conquers all. Follow your beautiful heart, Peeta.”