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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE!
035. to inspire

|| BACK TO YOU ||❝You're stuck in myhead and I can't getyou out of it

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|| BACK TO YOU ||
❝You're stuck in my
head and I can't get
you out of it.❞

➳➳

KATNISS COULDN'T OF imagined anything that came close to the poverty that infected the District.

She was there, she was watching the people of 8 suffer in the hospital they'd built in the rubble with nothing but hope left in their slowly beating hearts. Many were sick, with blood coating their clothes from unknown sources and small particles of dust which settled where they sat only just propped up from the ground. It was a sight that made the raven haired girl's bottom lip stagger; it made her timid enough to watch her boots instead of the faces around her as she took each step beyond the carefully wieved blanket of rubble.

With all of those eyes stating it was hard to admit to the truth of the situation- Katniss had no way of explaining just how at fault she was for the destruction.

She knew she'd started the suffering that was currently infecting the air, but it only seemed to occur to her as she glanced around the muddy faces and torn up clothes that her appearance might just make it worse. It was horrifying to consider while her thin lips glued themselves together in the hopes of avoiding anything getting worse.

But what was even left to ruin in such a broken place?

Each and every survivor had endured an attack so violent it put the president's sport of child hunting to shame, but they didn't hate the person that sent the destruction their way like even the camera crew had thought. No- some reached their pale hands out just to touch Katniss and her braid as she passed by; the head of propaganda team from 13 captured it all while the children smiled up at their so called hero.

Mothers cradled their children so close to their chest that you couldn't see an inch of the baby's skin, and yet when they saw a glimpse of her shing braid they happily thrusted those same children out to be touched by Katniss as she passed. Fathers that had been out to search for food in the cracked stone rocked slowly as they hugged their legs to their chest- the blankets around their shoulders were the only things protecting them against the cold- but still stood up tall to see the party from Thirteen.

Katniss didn't want the sight to be real. Every touch she received sent a pang into her soul as if it was slowly cracking her mind in two through grief. Though blame seemed to be the silent killer as she saw body after body piled up beside empty beds, but the people of 8's tear stained cheeks and ashen clothes didn't matter to them when they'd seen her face in person.

To them, they'd finally seen the very thing they were promised.

Her sheepish nature extended in her gaze to the people she watched. Her instinct drew her towards the ones out of the sunlight that seemed to only whisper to each other- mostly words of encouragement and little mantras- to make sure they'd get through the day and see a future they were sure existed. Those were the ones that gave the girl hope, which swelled like a balloon beside the shrinking guilt.

 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 ❦ The Hunger Games SequelWhere stories live. Discover now