Always: A Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 89

Katniss

I slide on my belly under the fence. Even though it's not buzzing with electricity, it keeps the wild animals out of the District. When they renovated 12, the new mayor made sure the fence would not be fixed. Even though I don't know him, he did it for me anyway. I constantly add people to the list of people I need to repay. Some, like Thresh or Finnick, will never be possible.

I keep my attention focused on the ground beneath my feet. The cold begins to seep through my jacket. I can see my breath in front of me, white and frosty. I stop at the tree that still contains my bow and sheath of arrows. I pull them out, even though I'm not sure if I'll even get any game today.

Eventually, I shoot a squirrel and a rabbit, both good trading items. There's a new Hob in town, where Greasy Sae works. I trade with her on occasion. She takes almost anything I offer. She takes my goods but still never loses on her end. I guess she's one of the people who don't feel so sorry for me. I hate being looked at like I'm some sad, wounded animal.

I stuff the game in my bag, having to put the apples and bread in my coat pockets to make room. I take a sip from my canteen and turn around, back towards the fence. I feel more calm now; more focused. I slide under the fence again and say a goodbye to the woods in my head. Even though I will probably come back tomorrow, I can't help but feel like I could lose everything in just a second.

"Good morning," Greasy Sae says with a smile on her face when I walk through the door. I smile at her and set down my bag on a table. Her granddaughter is laughing at something a younger boy said nearby. "It's a little cold for hunting today."

"It was alright," I say.

"How's the boy?" she asks, weighing the squirrel. For a split second I think she's talking about Gale, but that wouldn't make sense. She's talking about Peeta. "He's fine."

"The flashbacks gettin' any better?" I shrug, trying to avoid the question. Greasy Sae nods like she understands that I don't want to talk anymore. She gives me a few strawberries, some yarn, and milk for the squirrel and rabbit. Since we don't have Lady anymore, I've been having to buy milk. Before I leave I give Greasy Sae some money in exchange for a bottle of liquor for Haymitch. We say goodbye with a few smiles and I walk back out the door.

I keep my head down when I pass Gale's house. I don't want Hazel, or Gale for that matter, seeing me now.

When I pass the bakery I stop to smell the sweet smell of bread. Peeta goes there off and on to check on it, but he's never said anything about wanting to own it like his dad. A new family took it over but they welcome Peeta and I in with warm smiles.

I finally get to the Victor's Village. When I get into Haymitch's house I find him asleep on the couch, dead drunk. I decide to leave the bottle in the kitchen. I don't want to bother with waking him now. His house is too filthy so I don't stay long.

I can hear voices of families in the other houses. The ones who could afford them bought them after the rebellion, so now Haymitch and I have neighbors. Neither of us are very happy about it, but Peeta went to every house to welcome them when they moved in. The other people in the District live in whatever shack they managed to build, or in the town's apartments near the Square. They're mainly for the wealthier though, and even they are horribly small. Usually one bedroom and a kitchen. Nothing compared to my giant house. I don't even use half these rooms here. I refuse to go into the study, where Prim would have done her homework if she lived here after the explosions. Even though she's never been in there, for some odd reason I can still feel her there.

I walk up the stairs to my own house, passing the spot where Peeta used to live. He waits for me inside. "Hi," I say, kicking of my shoes and untying the scarf around my neck. I slip off my jacket and go into the living room, where he is.

"I had a flashback," he mumbles. I pause and glance around. A pile of glass shards lie in a pile in the corner.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask, sitting beside him. I bring my knees up to my chest and rest my head on top of them. He looks at me. "There isn't much to talk about. I was carrying a plate, and I dropped it. It's broken now. Sorry about that." I laugh slightly. I couldn't care less about a plate.

"It wasn't violent or anything. There was nothing shiny about it." I remember that's how Peeta used to describe his hijacking. That's one way he tried to tell the difference between a tampered memory or something real. "It was an actual flashback. I was in the Capitol. It was the night before I was rescued. I could hear Johanna screaming and. . ."

"Peeta, you don't have to talk about it," I say. He nods and puts his head in his hands. I rest my hand on his back, trying to pretend like I didn't notice him crying.

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Hope you liked it :) I can't believe it but I updated three times today. Usually I update three times a month. But yay, that's good, right? ;)

If any of you have Instagram, I have a multifandom account/ book account called @demigod_on_fire There's tons of Hunger Games stuff on there...Also some hijacked Peeta stuff...To be honest, I have no idea why I do this to myself :P

Anyway, be sure to vote and comment! Love you guys <3