Always: A Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 120

(Reader's Choice Chapter, Part 2)

Katniss

When I open my eyes, my head spins and my vision is blurry. I'm alone, lying on my bed. The memories of Peeta's flashback come back in a blur, causing my head to feel even worse than before. I must have blacked out when Peeta kicked me in the head. At least I don't hear his wailing like last time. He must know that I'm alright. The thought sends a wave of reassurance through me. If I can't hear Peeta crying, the baby must be okay. I shut my eyes, trying to make sense of everything. Some things from that night still feel hazy to me; this must be what it felt like to Peeta when he was hijacked. 

Haymitch comes through my bedroom door, a glass of water in hand. He looks tired and worn down, even more than usual. "You're awake," he says, setting the water on the table beside my bed. 

"Where's Peeta?" I ask.

He sits down on the bed and says, "I came over last night because I ran out of liquor, and I figured since Peeta doesn't drink and you can't, you'd have some. I found you lying on the floor in the kitchen. I figured Peeta had another one of his episodes because your head was bleeding."

"Can I see him? Where is he?" I ask. Haymitch fidgets uncomfortably and I assume the worse. On some level, I knew that he wasn't here. If he were, he'd either be waiting for me to wake up or crying, probably. 

"Katniss, when I came over last night, I found you. Peeta wasn't here," he says, resting his hand on mine. A horrible choking noise escapes my lips. I don't know why I'm so shocked. I knew what Haymitch was going to say before he said it. But I can't seem to get the idea of Peeta abandoning me through my head. I can't stop the tears when they come, but Haymitch seems to understand. Once again, I assume the worse. I try to rid my mind of the thought, but it's impossible. All I can picture in my head is Peeta, the one who I love more than anything, with a rope around his neck hanging from a tree in the woods. 

***

After my head stopped pounding and I could stand again, Haymitch and I went out into the District to look for him. When he suggested looking in the woods, I refused and stumbled back into my house. 

I sit in my living room, feeling lost and empty. The fireplace, which is usually filled with warm amber light, is empty besides a pile of gray ash at the bottom. I don't have the strength to light it. It's only been a day without Peeta, and I can't even perform everyday activities. I'm too worried to do anything but sit and stare ahead blankly. 

Eventually though, I do manage to climb the stairs and let myself fall asleep. 

I'm walking through the woods, my woods. I can't seem to stop my legs from moving. It's as if my body has been programmed to go places and my mind has to follow along because it has no choice. I have no choice. The sky is a sickly green color and the stench of President Snow's signature blood and roses fills the seemingly thick air. But I can't stop moving. I'm not sure why, but I can't. I stand in a circular grassy area, surrounded by tall, dark trees. Everything is foggy and I can't seem to see straight. 

Then, I see him. Peeta. He's standing on the other side of the clearing, directly across from me. He has a long rope in his right hand. I walk forward a few steps, longing to go more. I want to ask him where he's been, and tell him that I love him. But the words don't come. He starts saying the word always over and over again, like he's a broken machine. 

He begins to walk backwards towards the treeline, with his teary eyes still glued on me. My stomach drops when I see what he's doing. He's climbing up a tree, towards the tallest branch. My legs begin to walk forwards on their own. I try to do everything I can to run faster, to stop him. He sits on the branch, tying the rope tightly around his neck. When I get closer, I hear something I never have before. He's singing; Peeta is singing The Hanging Tree. He ties the other end of the rope to the tree and sits, as if he's waiting for something to tell him that he needs to do this. 

I finally reach the base of the tree trunk and begin to climb. He stares straight at me, telling me that he's sorry. I want to tell him that he doesn't have to be, but all I can do is climb to his branch. My heart pounds loudly in my chest but my hands don't shake and I climb swiftly up. I pull myself onto his branch and sit beside him. Now I talk. I'm the one who says that I'm sorry. Before I have any chance to try and stop myself, even before I get a chance to realize what I'm doing, I push him. I push him off of the branch and he falls a few feet before the rope catches him. He's dead. I killed him. I suddenly get control over my movements again.  I scream and I try cutting him down, but I know that it's too late. Peeta is dead. 

I wake to the sound of my own screams. I know I'm in my bedroom, but I still feel like I can hear Peeta's robotic voice. My screams don't stop and I cry so hard that I can't breathe. I can practically hear my heart beating in my chest. I hear the door open downstairs, but I don't lift my head; I don't stop. I can't stop. I feel dizzy and numb, trying to control my tears. I think of Peeta's dead face in my mind again. I half expect to see him walk through the doorway, to come to my rescue again. But it's Haymitch I see instead. He tells me something, but I don't listen to him. I don't want to. I don't want  his comfort, I just want Peeta. "Katniss, breathe," he says. "You're having a panic attack." 

I know I am. It's happened before, but I can't control it. That's the worst part.  I can't control anything, not even myself. It's like the nightmare, when I couldn't tell myself to stop moving or to speak. Now I can't stop crying and I can't breathe. I feel like I'm dying, even though I know that I'm not. "Katniss, listen to me. You're going to be okay," Haymitch says, pulling me into a hug. "Just take deep breaths."

I do what I'm told and within the next half hour, I've gained some of my self control back. When I feel like I can speak again, I tell him about my nightmare and what I think happened to Peeta. He tells me that he'll go look in the woods in the morning. 

It's another hour before I finally let myself close my eyes again. Buttercup climbs up onto the bed, as if he's trying to guard me from whatever it is that made me upset. He doesn't understand that the monsters are in my head. He can't protect me, but I let him think so and run my fingers through his thick, yellow fur. 

Haymitch is still downstairs, probably asleep on the couch. I'm thankful that he's here, but of course, I'd rather have Peeta back. It takes all my strength not to think of that horrible dream again. I can't let myself lose it like that again. 

The sun is rising when I hear the phone ring downstairs. I hold my breath and count to ten, praying that it's Peeta calling to tell us that he is safe and alive. That it was all a misunderstanding and that he'd be home soon. 

Haymitch's footsteps gradually get louder until he's in my room again. By the look on his face, I know it had to have been something good. "That was Gale. Peeta is at his house," he says. I jump out of the bed, scaring Buttercup half to death. I scratch his ear in apology and briskly follow Haymitch down the stairs and out of the house. 

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So, this is the 2nd part of 12Syldiin's idea. There will be one or two more chapters on this topic and the book will move on. Once again, thanks to everyone for submitting their ideas. Hopefully you guys liked this chapter! I'll update soon!

-booklover2019