Real - An Everlark Fanfiction

- Chapter One -

It has been exactly one year since my sister died. One year since I saw the lights leave her eyes. One year since my life got flipped upside down. One year since my most cherished possession left me forever.

Every day I forget more and more about her. What her hair smelled like, how her soft voice sounded, how her healing hands felt in mine. Her departure feels very different than my father's did. When he passed away, Prim and I would go through his dresser and wear his clothes. To get the warm sensation of hugging him. Everyday we did this until the strong smell of my hard working father faded into the familiar scent of our old, dusty dresser. Now that Prim is gone, too, I have no one. No family. No shoulder to cry on.

I would undoubtedly act the same with Prim and her belongings, but my mother took all of her clothing with her to District 4. The only thing I insisted on keeping was the blouse she wore at the reaping. The one that I wore my first time. I remember how peaceful things were when I sweetly told Prim to "tuck in her tail." How there was no thought in my mind that Prim would be chosen to fight to the death with older, stronger tributes. I was mostly worried about Gale and his odds. One slip out of thousands and Effie chose hers. My sister's. That one piece of paper changed the lives of millions of people, and for many in a horrid and fatal way. I hate Effie for that. I know it's not her fault, but I figure it has to be somebody's.

I can't believe it's been a year since the parachutes went off. Since Buttercup walked from District 13 all the way to District 12 just to see Prim, but to no avail. That stupid cat. I know Prim would have wanted me to keep him. I just couldn't stand seeing him everyday, crying about something that I couldn't help. It made me think about how much Prim loved him. And about how much I love her.

I ended up giving the cat to Annie and her new baby boy, Flynn. The second they walked in the door to visit and comfort me, Buttercup was all over him, meowing and purring like crazy. When the cat started licking Flynn's chubby cheeks, Annie and I both genuinely laughed for the first time in months. I insisted they take Buttercup back to District 4 with them. Being the optimistic and open person that she is, Annie agreed with a huge hug.

I watched my cat, the one I wanted to cook, finally happy again. Annie sniffed, still hugging me tightly, and whispered in my ear, "Thank you. It gets so lonely in our house. Buttercup will help with that."

Thoughts of Finnick flashed back. His hair. His voice. His undeniable attractiveness. I still, to this day, can't wrap my head around how devastating it is that he'll never get to see his beautiful baby. I looked down at Flynn and teared up when I saw his alluring eyes sparkle the same way Finnick's did when he offered me a sugar cube.

Annie is such a good mother. She occasionally sends me pictures of Flynn, and I am never disappointed with how happy he is and how charming he is becoming. Even without a father, Flynn Odair is undoubtedly making the best of his life. Reminds me of Prim. I can picture her right now, lecturing me about how I should be outside on such an amazing day, and not under the covers mourning. All I want to do is make her happy, but I cannot force myself to be smiling on the anniversary of my sister's death.

I hear a loud banging on my front door. There's no way I'm getting up. I'm not accepting visitors on a day like this. I hear another bang. I just cover my head with my pillow and continue staring at the wall. After a few moments I hear a key chain jingling and heavy footsteps. I know immediately that it's Haymitch. He's the only one I trust enough to have a spare key to my house. I try to block him out.

The footsteps travel up the stairs and towards my room.

"Sweetheart, are you in there?" 

I don't say a word. I'm surprised he still calls me sweetheart. After all this time. Without warning, he unexpectedly throws open the door and walks over to me.

"Nice bed head," he slurs, moving the pillow from my face. Our gazes meet, and when he sees the sadness and obvious tears in my eyes, he takes it down a notch.

"Sweetheart," he mumbles again, "I'm sorry about your sister."  

I nod my head and turn so I'm facing the other direction. I don't want Haymitch to see me cry. He'll never let me live it down.

"I mean..." He thinks, "Without her, there would still be the Hunger Games. You wouldn't have had anyone to volunteer for! The revolution would have never happened. You would never have happened. Children would still be killing children." Then the tears start rolling in. "She turned this sick world into something worth celebrating"

"All I wanted to do was save her," I stammer. My emotions are obviously everywhere, and I can tell Haymitch is a bit surprised seeing me so unstable.

"You did save her. Many times. You were her hero... And now she's yours." Haymitch explains. A hero? That doesn't make sense. She's dead. She's never coming back. She can't save me anymore.

"She was extremely noble and will always be remembered that way," Haymitch continues. For the first time in a while, my mentor seems to know exactly what he's talking about. He's experienced so much loss in his life that maybe, just maybe, he understands me. I turn and face him, knowing he's actually trying to make me feel better.

"See?" He says, finding and holding up the picture I kept of Prim and my mother helping a injured child, "She died trying to save someone's life. Just like you risked yours to save her."

His words bring me back to the day she died. One year ago. I'm running up to her, screaming her name repetitively, warning her. I know what's coming next, and all I can do is try to get her out. She looks at me, and our eyes meet. I see her lips form my name, and then everything goes black.

"Her last word was Katniss," I realize, staring off.

"What a waste of last words," Haymitch smirks.

I give him a look but not for long. I can hear Prim giggling in heaven right now. Like she used to when I would poke her in the belly.

"Thank you, Haymitch," my voice cracks. I've barely spoken all day. I reach out my arms to him and he squeezes me tight. He rubs my back and I feel so safe and secure. Like nothing could ever hurt me. It almost feels like a hug from my father.

A distant memory floods back. I was in the woods. I was young. My father was teaching me to hunt. It was when I had my first major kill, a small deer, maybe half my size. The arrow hit near its the nose. Of course I can hit it right in the eye, now, but this was extremely important to me at the time. The second that deer fell to the floor, my father scooped me up, laughing loudly and smiling wider than ever. I remember forgetting all about the threats of the world. The dangers of being loud in the forest. I remember hoping that he would never let me go. That he would never leave me. It felt exactly like it does now.

I never realized until this moment how big a role Haymitch plays in my life. Up until now, I thought he was just my snobby, drunk mentor/neighbor. That's only part of the fact. I never realized how much he cares for me. He's visited my house everyday since my sister died. To make sure I'm okay. To make sure I don't need anything. I doubt he gives Peeta this kind of treatment. Haymitch obviously likes me better. Plus, Peeta has a family. Haymitch is my only available family now.

"So," He finally says after he lets me go, "You're not going to stay in this dark room all day. I don't want you turning into some depressed drunk like me."

"That would be a shame," I say, slowly sitting up in my bed. I squint my eyes at the bright light that Haymitch allows inside.

"Then, Sweetheart," He says slowly, meeting my puffy eyes once again, "We are going to take a special trip to the Mellark bakery."

I hope you enjoyed! Be sure to vote, comment, and follow me! Thank you!

-Melanie 🦁