You wake up with a jolt, screaming, your heart pounding against your chest. Sweat soaks your clothes, your sheets tangled and damp. The cold, gray dawn of District 12’s sky filters through the cracked window, but it does little to calm the storm inside you. Your hands tremble as you try to push yourself upright.

Your throat burns from the scream, and your breathing is ragged, uneven. The room is small, the same as always, but after that nightmare, it feels foreign. Alien.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door. The old, creaky wood gives way, and you see Katniss standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with concern.

"Hey." She says softly, stepping inside. "Are you okay?"

Her voice is calm, but you can see the worry etched into her face. She’s seen you like this before. She knows the signs.

You try to speak, but your voice falters. The fear still lingers, clinging to your skin like a thick fog. You shake your head slightly, looking down, trying to steady yourself, but your body is still trembling.

Katniss walks over to you and sits down on the edge of the bed, her presence a steady, grounding force in the chaos of your mind. She doesn't ask questions or demand explanations. She’s always been good at giving you space when you need it.

After a moment, she reaches out and gently takes your hand.

"You’re here." She says, her voice barely above a whisper. "You’re safe. Whatever it was—it’s not real."

Katniss’s grip tightens ever so slightly, a small reminder of her presence. "You escaped. You woke up. You’re stronger than it. You’ve survived worse, and you’ll keep surviving."