Future of the mockingjay

Chapter eleven: Nightmares and Coffee

"And you'll come again, right? To visit with the children?" Mother asks, wrapping her arms around me.

"Of course I will mother," I assure her, hugging her back and kissing her on the cheek. She dabs at her eyes and moves on to hug Peeta and the kids.

"It was a pleasure meeting you," Matt says, hugging me. "Maybe sometime we'll see each other again."

I smile. "That would be nice Matt; you take care of yourself now, OK?"

"I'll do my best," he says back. "Before you go, I just wanted to thank you for making that beautiful speech about my mother. It really was amazing."

"I'm glad you liked it," I say, putting my hand on his shoulder.

Just as Matt and my mother finished their goodbyes, a loud voice rang out from the speakers.

"Would all the passengers taking the 3 o'clock train to District 12 please alight the train?" the crackling voice said.

"Well, this is it," I say to my mother and Matt. "Thank you so much for the time here at District 4, I hope we get to see you soon!"

We boarded the train and waved at them from our window as we pulled away from the platform. Slowly, they reduced to little specks in the distance, and then District 4 was gone altogether.

After half an hour, District 5 appeared. The district's specialty was breeding as well as splicing DNA and things like that. I had always been a little afraid of what they might be doing there, actually. I had the feeling that the mutated mutts in the 74th Hunger Games were made at District 5.

I shivered, remembering the eyes of my dead fellow tributes looking at me from the face of a gigantic dog.

We also passed District 6 the scientific research center, District 7 the lumber and construction area, District 8 the weaving and clothes-making specialists, and District 9 the hunters and food processing place before we were called out for dinner.

After the simple meal of chicken noodle soup, we made our way back to the cabin and put the kids to bed. I sat by the window and watched the stars in the midnight blue sky.

"Missing your mom?" Peeta asks, putting his arms around me.

I lean into him, feeling relieved at the familiar comfort of his chest and arms. Even his smell was soothing to me.

"A little bit," I admit. "But also a little eager to get home."

"Me too."

We both knew what day it was tomorrow. It was a very special day: Haymitch's birthday.

"What should we get him?" I had asked Peeta yesterday as we were frantically running around, trying to find a gift for him.

"I don't know, what does he like?"

"Drinking!" I replied.

We both looked for alcohol stores, but were unsuccessful. Until the perfect gift came along.

It was a gorgeous mug, carved out of turquoise sea glass that sparkled in the sun. Its rim was thick and tapered down to a solid base that was almost transparent. The handle looked slim and delicate but was actually tough and sturdy (which he would need, trust me). We had paid a little extra to have the man engrave his initials onto the base of the mug. Even though Haymitch was probably going to drop it in the first week or so, I wanted to give something nice. After all, to Peeta and I, he will always be our Mentor.

"Do you think he'll like it?" I ask Peeta, getting drowsier by the second as the train passes through a tunnel.

"Who knows, he's Haymitch." Those were the last words I heard before my eyelids dropped and all I saw was the darkness.

...

I roll over, expecting to drop onto the floor but instead hitting Peeta. I jerk my eyes open. Somehow, in my sleep, Peeta had moved me to the bed again. Rue and Finnick were squished on my other side.

I stretched, cracking my fingers and toes, and slowly got up.

The sky was still dim, though I could tell it was almost morning. Maybe a few more hours 'til they wake up. I dropped my head back onto the pillow. A few more hours of sleep won't kill me.

Before I know it, I'm outside in my robe, walking to the kitchen for coffee. I couldn't sleep. I knew why, but I didn't want to admit it to Peeta, or myself. I won't.

You can't! Don't say it; don't even think it...

I take the mug and pour the hot liquid inside. I stir in milk and sugar, and take a long sip. The coffee makes its way slowly down my throat and warms my stomach.

But even the best at mind games can't fool themselves. I was stupid to try to do so.

The nightmares were back.