My name is Gale Hawthorne. I was a powerful rebel in the war. My inventions killed many people. Maybe I should've died too...

It's not until now that I realize my hands are shaking.

"How do you live with yourself?" I can hear Katniss' harsh unforgiving voice, demanding an answer from me.

"I don't." I mutter more to myself than anyone. Who could call what I'm doing "living"?No one...

"You don't? You don't what Gale?" My therapist Cali, a pretty blonde woman, asks in that unscarred, velvet voice that I can't stand. I never did like blondes. They just remind me of all those merchant girls from Town.

"Nothing."

She's unconvinced.

"Gale, these sessions are only going to work if you help me- help you."

"What's up with all this help shit?" I snap. "I don't wanna help anyone and nobody actually cares about me...so what's the point?"

"But I do want to help you." she simpers.

Ew. Not her too, please. I'm tired of everyone's sympathy, I deserve the punishment I get. I don't want all their attention.

Some part of me knows I'm being stubborn, but it's not enough to make me open up to someone. Killing people...well it may be the same in execution. But the aftermath- it's ample to push people to insanity. Especially me.

*So yeah...I'm pretty new at this and I'd really like some sort of feedback before I would upload more, but trust me, there's plenty more to come :) if you so choose that is. And this is really a small sample of the story. Thanx!