Mockingjay (If Peeta Wasn't Hijacked)

Epilogue

The months flew and my little girl was here in no time. She had my hair and Peeta's eyes. As she grew, we discovered she had his personality, too. We called her Willow Primrose Mellark.

When Willow turned five, I have birth to a baby boy with blonde hair and gray eyes. He developed a talent for hunting becoming momma's boy like Willow was daddy's girl. We called him Rye James Mellark.

When they both learned about the Games, I was nervous. I thought they would hate me, but they supported me and loved me still.

When Willow was 12 my mom came back and apologized. She said she wanted parts in my and my family's life. They she was sorry for being a selfish bitch. I forgave her only because Peeta told me. He made me realize that my mom might not be here one day and that I shouldn't have any unsolved issues with her like he had with his mom. He told me he still feels guilty for having the relationship between them in bad terms when she died. That's the only reason I accepted.

Gale and Johanna got married a year after Peeta and I. Rory and Prim, five years after them. Johanna and Gale had a baby girls and named her Rosalyn. She was only a year younger than Rye.

My children grew up happily and with no pain. Willow married Finn, Finnick's and Annie's son, and had two children. Rye married Rosalyn and the had a daughter.

They all made me happy every day until three years ago when Peeta passed away of old age at 95 years old. I became numb when I heard the news. The tracker jacker venom had taken toll on him and took a couple of years of his life. Once again, Snow had taken something from me. I cried everyday until I had no tears. I barely ate and didn't talk at all. I became a mental avox once more. I finally understood what my mother felt like when dad died, though, my children are more than old enough to care for themselves.

I now lay here on my bed. I take my last breath and smile. I'll finally be with Peeta.

* * *

I open my eyes once again. I look like when I was 20. No scars on my body, though. There, a few feet from me, stands 20-year-old Peeta. I run into his arms and together we walk into paradise.