Future of the mockingjay

Chapter twenty-three: Really Gone

I crumple the letter with my fist, trying to stifle the cry itching its way up my throat.

Peeta left me? He left our children?

I want to feel angry. I want to scream and hit and destroy. But I don't feel angry at all. A wave of sadness and helplessness hits me so suddenly and with such impact that I feel all the breath knocked out of my lungs. I gasp, clutching my throat. Tears are pouring from my eyes and leaking into my mouth. The cry that has been building up inside me bursts from my mouth.

I lie on the ground, kicking my bow away. I throw the letter over my head, wishing I never even read it in the first place. I've been mad at the Capitol since I was born. I learned to hate them even more during the Hunger Games. When I found out about the bombing, there was so much hate inside me it was practically spilling out through my ears.

But never before have I experience so much hatred as I was feeling now. I wanted to shoot every single person in the Capitol right through the heart with my arrow. I would shoot all the husbands first, and let the wives mourn until their hearts burst from all the sadness. All the sadness that I was feeling right now.

"Why?" I scream, lying on my back. "Why me?"

The Capitol did this. They destroyed my life.

I jump up, throwing my sheath of arrows to the ground where it rolled to my bow. Turning towards the forest, I walk off the rocky ledge, my legs feeling like they were made of lead.

"Gale!" I cry out, my voice desperate and weak. "Gale, where are you?" I weave through the trees toward the lake, yelling Gale's name the whole way. Halfway there, Gale stumbles out from the bushes, his face worried.

"Katniss, are you ok?" he asks. He starts to move towards me but backs off when he sees my expression.

My skin feels like it's radiating heat from all the anger inside me. "Do I look ok, Gale?" I say slowly. My hands tremble at my sides, yearning to hit him.

"Katniss, why don't you sit down for a while? You look stressed."

"Of course I'm stressed!" I yell, pointing my finger at him. "You knew about this! You knew he was about to leave me!"

He holds his arms up, surrendering. "I only received the letter a few days ago! I came here as fast as I could."

"But you didn't come fast enough." Tears are yet again dripping down my face. I can't even count how many times I've cried today. Isn't there some kind of set amount of tears a person can release?

"What do you expect me to do, fly?" he asks jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

"You could have called me, Gale! You should have called me! You should have warned me that Peeta was... that he was..." I just can't bring myself to say that Peeta was leaving me, or that he already had.

"Catnip," Gale reaches out to me.

"Don't touch me!" I scream, pushing him away so hard that he stumbles and falls down. I turn away and run, my boots digging into the soil. No matter how much I push myself, my fastest isn't fast enough. I yank open the gate, not stopping even when I reach the meadow.

Running through town is trickier. I dodge people left and right, their annoyed outbursts of complaint hitting me from all angles.

When I was almost at the hospital, a frail old woman stepped in front of me, causing me to slide to a stop.

"Katniss, dear, what's wrong?" Greasy Sae asks, her thin eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Greasy Sae," I pant, grabbing her shoulders. "Have you seen Peeta?"

I want her to say "Yes, Peeta's waiting for you at home." Or something that could reassure me that he isn't really gone.

But Greasy Sae slowly shakes her head side to side. Each shake feels like a punch in the stomach. "Sorry Katniss, I haven't seen him in a while."

I push past her and continue running to the hospital. I almost feel like giving up, but I can't. I just can't give up on Peeta.

I burst into the hospital room, scanning it frantically with my eyes. I hold my hand over my mouth, trying to fight the urge to cry.

Peeta's hospital room is neat. Too neat. It's almost as if he was never even here. Like he erased himself completely.

"Oh no," I sob, grabbing the bed sheets. "No, Peeta, please!" I hold the sheets against my nose, praying that he has left his scent behind. Praying that he can't really be gone.

The sheets smell like alcohol and medicine. Frustrated, I drop the sheets and start searching the room. The closets are bare. The bathtub is dry. A tray of food lies on the table, untouched.

"Miss Everdeen," a soothing voice says. I turn and find three nurses gathered at the door, eyeing me as if I was a rabid animal. "Miss Everdeen," she says again, "we need you to calm down. Please Miss Everdeen, if you would just-"

"Stop calling me that!" I yell, unable to control myself. The nurse looks at me, stunned. "It's Mellark!" I say, crying yet again. "My last name is Mellark!"

Not Hawthorne, not Everdeen. Just Mellark.

Before the nurse can even respond, I dart out the door and down the hall. A new feeling overcomes me and I pat my thigh to make sure my knife is safely tucked away under my pants.

Finding the right room, I throw open the door without hesitation. He is sitting up in bed, as if he was just waiting for me to come.

I walk inside and lock the door behind me, once more patting my thigh.

"Well, well, well, look who we have here!" Haymitch smirks, chewing on a piece of bread. "Miss Katniss Everdeen."

"Don't call me that." I growl.

And then I lunge forward.