Always: A Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 61

Katniss

Nothing. That's what I feel. I should be sad. Maybe I am, but I feel so numb inside I can't even feel it. I should be angry. I should be in Peeta's arms, sobbing my eyes out, but there's nothing.  I can't seem to form words or walk or function. That's how I know this is my way, if it is even a way, of recovering. On the other hand, maybe I'm not. That's what scares me. What if I'm not recovering? What if it's just my mind's way of telling me to stop; to quit. But it can't be over. Not yet. I'm still eighteen. Still so young, just like Ruth and Prim and Rue. Of course, sometimes I feel like I should die. That everything will go away if I did. But in reality, I just want to live in peace. I ask myself all the time 'why did I have to grow up here and now?'. Why couldn't I have born right now, not a worry in the world. Maybe a different form of me could have saved Panem and I could have grown up in peace. Prim, too. If it was just eighteen years later, maybe everything would have been okay.

"Katniss," I hear Peeta say beside me. It's as if he's whispering, though I know he's not. My mind isn't cooperating right now. I can't hear, I can't speak, I can't move. I just stare at pure nothingness, thinking and thinking and thinking all the time. "Katniss, please, do something."

A bell goes off in my head. I'm my mother. We both dropped out of exsistence after a loss. After someone we loved died. Of course, I would probably do the same thing she did when my father died. If I lost Peeta, I'd do more than just blank out. I'd want to die. Flat out die. Then why am I doing this to him? I remember how horrible it was to see my mother completely lose it and leave the world. I remember how I felt so alone. How I felt like I must not have been good enough because the only person who was supposed to take care of Prim and I refused to do anything other than blink. I remember crying silently behind the little school I used to go to. Then, I had to dry the tears and walk home to another dinnerless night. They didn't feed us at school, either, so we had absolutely nothing to eat for so long. Until I saw the eleven-year old Peeta walk outside with a swollen face. He sacrificed a beating for me. I know now how much he loved, and still loves me. Peeta is the reason I'm here, in this situation. If he hadn't given me the bread that day, I'd have died of hunger. I'm not quite sure whether to be mad or so, so thankful for that. If he hadn't been selfless enough to burn the loaves of bread, I wouldn't have had to face the Games. But I also never would have known him. Either way, Prim would end up dead, so maybe it didn't matter as much. The Games would have continued, though. That's why I decide I do feel grateful for his act of kindness towards me.

I wish I could somehow gain back the strength I had not so long ago. I wish I could claw my way out of this mental cage I'm in. I do try. I am trying. I wish Peeta knew that I am thinking about him. That I'm sorry for blanking out like this, but I can't find the courage in me to keep going. I guess sitting blankly is easier for me, but what about them? Or, Peeta anyway. I think he's the only one who truly cares about me. Maybe Haymitch, but he's too drunk to notice me most of the time. Gale might care, but he wants the old me. The one who hunted with him in the woods. The girl who was so strong and fearless. At least, fearless on the outside. But I am not that girl, nor will I ever be. I'm the Girl on Fire; the Mockingjay. Fire destroys. I destroy everything in my path. I'm like a wildfire, swallowing everything in my way. Unstoppable and certainly uncontrolable. I damage things even when I don't realize what I'm doing.

"Katniss, come back to me. I know you can." I can feel Peeta's presence beside me, but can just barely hear the faint whisper of his voice. I think he's on the verge of tears because his voice shakes slightly. My heart aches at the thought of Peeta crying over me. I hate it when people cry, even myself; especially myself. I bring my knees up to my chest and try to make myself as small as possible, as if it could keep me safe from everything. I feel Peeta's warm hand on my cheek but I don't aknowlage it in any way. Peeta's thumb makes soft pictures on my cheek. "Katniss, listen. You don't have to talk, just show me that you're still there. I need you," he says. This time I know he's really whispering, not just a crazy mind game in my head. I sigh and turn my head to look at him. His blue eyes are filled with tears, on the verge of spilling over. "Oh my god," he gasps, sighing with relief. He embraces me but I don't return the action.

"Katniss, listen. I know you can hear me now. You don't have to. . ." Peeta trails off, staring into space. I squin my eyes and turn my head to the side, confused. Peeta's hand hits the ground hard. He clenches his teeth and stand. Oh no. Not here, not now. He's having another flashback. I shake my head, slightly, not able to yell and tell the others. He grabs the corner of the table and holds onto it so tightly, his knuckles turn white. The others seem to recognize what's happening and back away slowly. I'm the only one who can help him, but I can't find the words to say anything. A blurry image of Haymitch wa;ls over to me and tries to pull me up by the arm. "Come on, sweetheart." I shake my head and try to move towards Peeta but I know it would just make things worse. Haymitch begins pulling me towards the door, but I just barely grab the border of it and hold on tight before Haymitch pulls me out.

"Peeta. . ." I whimper. I break away from Haymitch somehow and half-crawl over to Peeta. I touch his back lightly. He seems to recognize me. "Katniss, get out of here!" he yells, shutting his eyes tight. When he opens them again, they're cloudy. I know now how stupid I was to come near him. He jumps on top of me and the breath is immediately knocked out of my lungs. I fall to the floor with a painful thud. Peeta holds me to the ground and wraps his hands around my neck. Maybe it won't be so bad if Peeta kills me now. I let him try and strangle me. I don't care. I feel my lungs start to struggle for air, fighting to keep me alive. My vision begins growing blurry around the edges. Peeta doesn't budge even after guards start trying to get him off. I see one of them come over with a large piece of something; to knock him out. But what if it kills him? I shudder slightly as I think of how Clove died in the arena. "No. . ." I manage to call out. But there isn't anything I can do. Peeta is too strong for me. The guard brings the object to Peeta's head and he stares in shock for about a half-a-second then falls to the floor. I lie there on the floor beside him, gasping for air. My hands touch my newly swollen and bright red neck. My lungs feel as though they were on fire.

A couple guards hold out there arms to help me up but I turn away from them, my hands still wrapped softly around my neck. I watch the unconcious Peeta helplessly. I crawl towards him and put my head to his chest, making myself sure the blow to the head hadn't killed him. I hear a heartbeat but I still look at the guard who hit him, my eyes filled with hate. He looks at me like he had done a good thing; a noble thing. He doesn't understand that I didn't care if I died just then. I stroke Peeta's cheek, waiting for him to wake up. I hope that me moving would make up for the fact that he had tried to kill me again. After last time, I doubt he'd forgive himself. He probably hasn't still, but I have to try to distract him.

Not too long after, Peeta's eyes flutter open. At first he looks confused, then happy to see me, but I can see the reality of what happened fill his eyes. He reaches up and touches my neck. I curse in my mind. I had hoped the swelling would go down by the time he woke up again. He backs away from me, as if there was still a chance he could hurt me. "I did it again," he whispers. I don't know what to say. Even if I did, I'm not quite sure I could manage to get the words out. How can I tell someone it was 'okay' for trying to kill me? Telling him that it wasn't his fault won't work. He won't believe me. "I have to get out of here." I shake my head. Now I have to say something.

"No," I manage to croak. "I need you here."

"You don't need someone here to kill you, Katniss."

"It was my fault. I didn't leave when you told me too. I was stupid."

"You're not the one who tried to kill!" he yells.

"That wasn't you," I say.

"It was me. It was all me," Peeta says. He stands up, takes one sad glance at me and starts to leave. I grab his hand before he can.

"You said you'd always stay with me, Peeta," I say.

"Katniss let go." I can hear the pain in his voice. My mouth opens, as if to say something but Peeta pulls away and leaves. I'm left sitting on the cold, hard floor, surrounded by people I don't know.