Flight of The Mockingjay (A Hunger games Fanfiction)

Flight of The Mokingjay (A Hunger Games Fanfiction) : Part One

I am back to reality as soon as my feet touch the ground. I know I am not dreaming at all but my eyes dart around like I'm still on reverie. For what lies before me which used to be my home looks no less than ruins. Everything are in shatters. Houses burned down, roads cracked into pieces, wagons and cars battered along. Gale was right. District twelve is nowhere to be found.

My hands clasp over my mouth in shock. I feel my lips quivering before I broke into sobs and tears that seem endless begin flowing down my cheeks. The next thing I knew, I'm falling weakly onto the ground.

"Katniss . . . " Gale gasps grabbing my wrist before my shaking knees hit the rough land. 

He's whispering soothing words but I don't mind hearing them. I can't think of anything to do but shake my head faintly. Unable and unwilling to believe. 

"Katniss," he calls my name yet again. "We've to go." 

"No," I continue tilting my head "No."

There's nothing I can do now. Nothing could return the lives of people who died fighting against the Capitol. People I knew, I encountered and even got to befriend in a silent way. Nothing could bring them back. Not even the continuance of this rebellion. There's no certainty whether or not it would work, in the first place. So why would they bother catching the fire from the little spark I made?

"I don't want to fight" I say at long last, my voice harsh from my throat throbbing with pain. But hearing the words, I know there's still an edge of doubt in them. I don't know if I should run away or what. I'm sure if I do, and it'll be the last thing the rebels would want, this could possibly end. Otherwise nothing bound to occur awaits.  

I brush Gale's hand with my free one to let loose of his grip except he didn't. I look at him straight into the eyes and I see the same grief I feel on them. He wants revenge like I do. But the urge for it exists to rise him up more to join the rebellion. On the contrary, mine's almost to the point of giving up the will to fight.

"Please let go," I whisper tiredly. And before I knew it, I'm already on my feet, unrestrained, striding away. No, I'm not escaping. Or at least not yet. I just need to think. And whatever may come to hit me, I know I'd be doing it for the good.

I hear footsteps follow for a while and then come to a halt as someone speaks. "Let her." 

It's Haymitch. 

I'm glad they don't interfere though I'm sure they will later. But before so, I just need some time alone. Amidst the peace and quiet of the woods albeit I doubt what intuition to expect, still.

As I reach the place which was supposed to be the meadow, I fight another disturbance welling up inside. The whole lot is covered with ashes. No hint of green visible. My gaze shifts on the fence separating what used to be District twelve from the woods. It was a high-chain link topped with barbed-wire loops but now. Parts of it have been crumpled down and the highest of all stands lowly about just three feet above the ground nearly collapsing. My heart sinks but I manage to stretch my view farther not any more clueless of what to find. The trees, their once thick leaves and branches turn ashen, lie dead on the the earth. Even the place had been reached by explosives. Perhaps the townsmen attempted to escape to save their lives. But they failed. 

I endure one more cry and let myself walk in the distant part of the woods, darting out from this terrifying scene. Hoping the the odds will side me.

I don't think it's right to say fortunately but I'm relived to see no sign of destruction is in store when I arrive weary at the lake. This eliminates the growing fear. It's as well as it was. Except for the silence. Small animals and insects which usually linger around are absent. The echos of bombs might have scared them away into the deeper pat of the wilderness. Lucky they're free to escape. And then I realize I envy them. They could take flight to preserve themselves from predators. Unlike my countrymen. Unlike me.