Always: A Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 113

Katniss

I sit, staring endlessly at the clock above the mantle at my house. I'm surrounded by pure silence, something I've grown to loathe. Years ago, I cherished the moments of silence in the woods or at my home. But now silence is an empty void of numbness, and my mind always feels the need to fill it with dreadful memories and thoughts.

The hands on the clock seem to move slower and slower every second, never-ending. Never stopping. I am suddenly fascinated at the thought of time. No matter how many lives stop, time never will. The hands will keep moving, the numbers will keep changing. It's impossible to stop, unless you die, but otherwise you are constantly forced to keep going; to keep moving.

I ask myself the question that I never can rid from my mind. How did I get here? Why did it have to be me? I constantly imagine my life if I hadn't been in the games. President Snow would most likely be dead by now. His granddaughter, Fiona, would be in power. I would live a quiet life in the Seam, next to my mother and Prim. I would continue to hunt with Gale, and do my job of working in the mines. Life would be simple. I'd have been hungry, but I might've been happy.

When I see Peeta walking towards the house through the window, all of the thoughts a different life that I will never have, wash away silently. I am happy now. Nothing else matters. I touch my fingertips to my stomach. I am happy, with a husband that I can't live without, and now a new baby. The thought terrifies me. But the terror is no match for the pure joy that I hold in my heart.

Haymitch is recovering now too. I can't remember what Massie told me about what happened to him. Mostly because I hardly listened. All I care about is the fact that Haymitch is alive. I could care less about what happened to him, because he's still here. That's all that matters right now.

I fix my eyes on the treeline of the woods outside of our house. The trees on the edges are small, and the ground beneath them still slightly brown. They are scars from the explosions and fires that ravished the district many years ago. No. I can't let myself think of my horrible past. I won't let the ghosts of the violence of my former life take over my mind anymore. I can't.

I push myself to my feet and step into the kitchen, where Buttercup lies sound asleep on the floor. The fur around is mouth is white instead of it's usual dirty yellow color. I know it's because of how old he must be. "I swear, you're immortal," I mumble to myself while I grab an apple from the counter. I make a mental note to start hunting for food again soon. I'll have to get everything that I can now. The temperature has already begun to drop; a sign that winter is coming. I glance at Peeta again, who to me, is a symbol of spring. That life can be good again.

I don't try to hide the small grin that appears on my face. It's been too long since I've smiled last. Only Peeta can bring it out of me now. I'm hit with a pang of longing for the woods once more; for peace and soltitude; for my seemingly unbreakable friendship with Gale. I feel guilty when I think of the fact that he helped me through the war, when Peeta was unreachable. I'm not sure what I would've done without him there in 13. I don't know what I would've done if he were killed in the bombings.

I shut my eyes and run my hand softly over the gray countertops. I decide to go to the woods. Even if I'm too much of a coward to ask Gale to come too, I can still feel the peacefulness that the woods never cease to give to me.

At some point, I mumble a reticent goodbye to Peeta and begin my hike into the woods. When I get to the tree line, I feel imaginary arms around me. I feel safe and harminous when I slide on my belly underneath the fence. I ignore the fact that although I've been going to the woods for years, Gale has never been at my side. I hastily weave my dark hair into a long braid down my back and fasten my sheath of arrows across my shoulder.

The trees and the wind smell syrupy and sweet. The fallen, dead leaves crunch beneath my feet as I walk. I go where I usually have been lately: my father's lake. Most of the animals are deeper in the forest. They've learned throughout the past years that the District and the Meadow are far from any kind of sanctuary.

I jump when a twig breaks a few feet away from me. Any noise like that terrifies me now, although it never used to. I'm half expecting to see an army of Peacekeepers standing before me, weapons raised. But of course it isn't. There is no such thing as Peacekeepers. I have to keep telling myself that. I aim my bow and shoot the squirrel that stares at me, petrified. I don't flinch. Not anymore, not like I used to when I first got out of the games. I no longer have the fear of shooting my bow. Sure, I've killed plenty of animals in the time in between Fiona's attempt at war and now. But no more people. I have not taken anyone else's life. The thought rids me of some of the weight on my shoulders. But the faces of the one's I have killed cluster up in my mind again, and that weight is back. I don't think I will ever be able to forgive myself. Their faces are constantly on my mind. From Marvel, to the Capitol woman who I shot in her own home. Is it possible that I killed her just a day before my sister was murdered by Coin? Now, the whole thing seems like decades ago.

I shut my eyes, hold my breath, and begin counting. Dr. Aurelius told me to do this whenever I felt like a possible flashback could occur. 1. . .It's not my fault that I killed the people in the Games. I was forced. . .2. . .I did what I had to do to protect myself and my family. . .3. . .The Captiol created this entire mess. Not me. . .4. . .I am safe now. The Capitol isn't an enemy any more. . .5. . .I'm safe. . .

When I open my eyes again, I do feel somewhat calmer. I'm still in the woods, bow in hand. The squirrel lies dead at my feet. I put it in my game bag and decide that that's enough for today. I'm not sure how much I can handle out here. The Capitol has now achieved at taking my sanity and my sanctuary. I can't even stay in the woods for more than an hour without the wretched memories seeping into my mind, wreaking all kinds of havoc.

In just a few short moments, I'm back in the district, surrounded by people who constantly nod to me and give me warm smiles. I keep my eyes down and avoid eye contact with any of them. I was the one who killed their families, their friends. I can't look them in the eyes without thinking of it. How can they be appreciative of me, after all that I've done? After all of the misery that I bestowed upon them? I focus on my shoes and the dirt beneath them. This is where there bodies were. I suddenly feel like all of the air inside my lungs is being vaccumed out. I feel like I'm being suffocated, or like I'm trapped in water. All I can think about is how I have to get home. I have to get home, to Peeta. He's my safe haven. He's the only one that can calm me down. He knows how my mind works. Peeta knows what sets me off, what makes me cry, what makes me panic. This is making me panic.

I push past all of the people milling around in the streets. I feel clausterphobic; like there are invisible walls pushing against me, trapping me. I try my best not to touch anyone, but I fail miserably. I wince everytime I do. I can't bare it anymore. I'm trying my best to keep from collapsing. I have to scream or cry or do something. If not, I feel as though I might explode.

Then, someone says my name. My vision is cloudy and I can't seem to walk properly, but I still have my hearing. And my memories. I know who it is, the person behind me, even before I turn around to face him. Gale.

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Agh, I feel like I say this every chapter. But I'm sososososo sorry I have't updated in forever. This chapter was slightly boring, so it was hard to write. I just keep procrastinating and let myself get distracted. So, sorry for that.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'll try to update as soon as I can!!

Love you guys!

-booklover2019