Always

Something Black

A.N. So my friend and I did a photoshoot this past weekend with our dogs, and I thought I might share one of the pics! This is me and my black lab, Joanna.

"It's okay to grieve, Katniss. Loosing a child is something I wish you would've never had to endure, but it's happened. And it's time to try and move on, it's been 2 weeks." My mother says but I hardly listen. Instead I press the same small button I rely on to put me asleep.

"You're promo was a huge hit, we have two more districts that have joined our side. You're a real star now, Katniss." Plutarch tells me and I simply turn over, pressing the button for more medicine to put me into a hazy state.

"I'm sorry, Catnip, I'm so sorry."

"Please try and eat, Katniss you need to keep your strength up for the baby."

"Peeta wouldn't want this for you, so come on. Please just get up, Rosy Posy."

"Wake up, Sweetheart."

Everyone's comments run together and blur into one huge paragraph of motivational words, that don't motivate me at all. No one can understand the pain of loosing someone you helped create. This baby, was what Peeta and I fought so hard for. Maybe I'll just lie here in bed until he returns, until he can come back to me.

Loss: the fact or process of losing something or someone. And yet the definition doesn't even do it justice, it still can't fulfill what I'm feeling right now. The feeling of something being ripped from you, taken from you, and yet you never even get to say goodbye. Or in my case, I was never able to say hello.

Rye will come and sit next to me when he knows I need the company, Prim will lay beside me when I need to cry, and even Gale will come and stand across the room when he thinks I'm asleep. But out of the people that come and try to help me, no one can help me the way Peeta does. His whispers they help me through the day, his face in my dreams, they help me through the night. Everywhere I turn, he's there, waiting for me to need to him.

Everyone I love is sitting around my bed, and instead of pressing the red button that will relieve me of talking, I open my mouth. "I want a funeral." My voice is raspy and sore after not speaking for weeks.

My mother looks up and her eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep and worrying over me.

"I'm afraid we don't do funerals here, we cremate the bodies." Plutarch speaks up and I about throw up at the thought of them burning my baby boy. He must see it on my face because he quickly replies. "We haven't done anything yet, we figured you would like to say goodbye."

"I don't want it here. I want it in twelve, in the meadow." Plutarch bites his lip and sighs. "You can film the burial." I'm surprised by the words that have just come out of my mouth.

"Katniss, no." Prim says softly and she wipes a tear away from her cheek.

"Peeta deserves to know, we'll make sure the Capitol sees the broadcast."

The room is silent and then Rye smiles sadly. "I guess I should go find something black to wear instead of grey." The room laughs softly, but I don't.

I can't laugh, I no longer have it in me.

I suppose I should have expected the stares I receive while walking towards the hovercraft hanger, but it still rattles me. No one knows the truth of why the mockingjay was in the hospital, only that I was. And now I'm out.

"I was sorry to hear about what happened to you." Boggs whispers to me and I look at him sadly.

"Me too." I reply dryly and I don't feel the need to say anything else.