An Everlark One-Shots Collection

~2~

I've seen him a few times since he got back from the Capitol and I found him in my front yard planting those beautiful yellow primroses. I'm sure he's seen me too, once or twice aimlessly wandering around the Victor's Village or the District. If I had a choice, I would never leave the safety of my own home, though since Prim was killed, it hasn't felt anything like home. But it's better than going outside, trudging through the leftover debris and ash from the bombing that hasn't quite been cleaned up yet. Greasy Sae makes me go outside sometimes. She tells me I need to get fresh air. But the air outside doesn't seem fresh anymore. It feels thick and dusty, filled with the stench of burning and death, something that I can't seem to escape.

A fair amount of the district has been rebuilt already. The new Justice Building, a new house for our new mayor, a few shops in the square, and several houses scattered around. Even the bakery has begun to transform from a pile of rocks and soot into a new building. I'm sure they're rebuilding it for Peeta as some sort of "healing process".

I don't hear much about him, other than a few words from Haymitch that I frequently block out. I don't want to hear how he's doing. I don't want to be told that he's getting better, or that he's moving on. Because he still isn't the same. He never will be. And neither will I.

I suppose it would be better on both of us to accept Peeta to be as good as dead. He can move onto loving someone else, someone kind and gentle. Someone who isn't completely shattered. I would never be good enough for him anyway. I can't be fixed, though everyone around me seems to deny that. I am a shell of a human, a shell of the girl I once was. Sometimes I think of the kind of person I was before; before the Games, the Quell, Peeta's hijacking, the war. Before this hoax of 'Katniss Everdeen--the girl who was on fire' even existed. I hate her. I hate her lies, her violence, her hatred. I hate every single thing about her. I hate myself.

I bring my knees up to my chest and bury myself under layers of blankets and sheets that sloppily cover my unmade bed. I feel like I should cry, but I can't seem to force anything out. I've cried for too long, I'm left with absolutely nothing. No feelings. No tears. Nothing. I'm numb.

I think I almost fall asleep when I'm shaken awake by familiar hands. I latch onto the blankets and pull them over my head. I don't want to speak with anyone. Not now, not ever. I just want to be left alone to the demons inside of my own head. I don't deserve anything better. I don't deserve to be loved, not after everything that I've done. Not after everyone who I loved left.

"Katniss, Greasy Sae wants you to get outside," Haymitch says. And here we are again, I'm being pestered to get out of this cold and musty house, as if it would make me feel better. I know that it won't, and they must too. But everyone continues to try and help me, ignoring the fact that I am beyond help.

I follow her directions though. I pull myself out of bed and tie up my brown leather boots. Greasy Sae has been nothing but kind to me, even though I know I don't deserve it, so I do what she tells me and I keep my mouth shut. Haymitch pulls a green jacket from my closet and holds it out to me, "You should take this. It's chilly out there." The thick snow has just begun to melt outside, but it's just the very beginning of spring, so it is still cold. But I'm always cold now, and no matter how many layers I wear isn't going to change that. I avert my eyes and walk past Haymitch and the jacket and out the door. I don't need his help. I don't want it.

When I step outside, the frigid wind bites at my face, so I drop my head and walk down my front stairs and out in front of my house. I'm not sure where I'm going to go. I never really do. I just walk. When I reach Peeta's house, I stop for a moment. His windows are shut and his curtains are drawn. I know he must be awake then. He never sleeps without his window open. Unless the Captiol has taken that away from him too. I draw my eyes away from his house and continue walking.