4.16: Floods Of Thought

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8th May

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Chapter 65
Katniss's POV

I wake up, drowsy, to see the sun shining down through a gap in the curtains, creating a line of gold against the wall. I hold my head in my hands, trying to stay upright and keep the thoughts away. My hand goes to my stomach, the fingers running along the scar and the almost now invisible stitches.

The last nightmare hits me like a flood so hard I almost shudder at the thought of it. I can only be thankful Willow woke me up with her screaming so I didn't have to see how it ended; although, I can't exactly decide whether the gap it left in my imagination to create fantasies about what could have happened is a good or bad thing.

I force myself to move, and go over to Willow. I know she's okay, but I don't want to ignore her. She is sleeping quietly as I look over her, so I quietly try to throw a shirt on and open the curtains. I automatically tuck my hair behind my ear as I stare out into the landscape of meadow and forest.

My door creaks open and I walk towards Peeta's room only to find the door open and the room empty.

My nose directs me to the smell of baking downstairs, and I follow it into the kitchen, where Peeta and Prim greet me. "Happy Birthday," Prim says, hugging me.

"Thank you," I reply, surprised. I didn't even remember it was my birthday. It never really seemed relevant after the games. What's one year on from life when you are terrified the government could kill you if you make one wrong move?

Peeta smiles at me and puts another plate down on the table, piled high with cheese buns and plums and chocolate and fruit.

We all become slightly more alert when there is a knock at the door. "I'll answer it," Prim automatically says.

Me and Peeta talked to Prim and told her that we could change arrangements because of Mom not being here, especially with Willow around, but she chose to stay despite my protestations that I didn't want to disturb her.

"Katniss!"

I rush to the front door upon hearing her scream, only to see her cradling Buttercup in her arms.

"Look who I found wondering about the old house," Haymitch speaks from outside. "Can I come in?"

Prim moves out of the way of the door to let Haymitch past.

Breakfast is filled with laughter, but I can't help but feel like it's all for my benefit. Haymitch's and Prim's aren't forced, but only me and Peeta really know. The memory is crisp and clear.

After a couple weeks of staying in the house, I had told Peeta I wanted to get rid of the screen that acted as a makeshift wall. He had agreed after a long time, and very reluctantly. One morning, I'd gone into our bedroom to see Peeta in the middle. He'd stared at the window, stiff, unmoving. I knew the hijacking still left effects on his brain. I'd tried to speak to him, but he walked past me, downstairs, and I'd followed him. Tried to get him back to how he was before. But he'd pulled out a knife...

It had gone into my stomach, only superficially. Peeta had then run out and come back in with some stuff from my mother's stock of healer stuff from my house and the book on how to use what. I was okay afterwards, but there was something else that I hadn't wanted to tell him. And I still don't. After that incident, we 

I am disturbed by another knock at the door, and Haymitch goes and comes back with Finnick and Annie. "Happy Birthday," Annie tells me.

"How many people remembered it was my birthday before me?" I smile. "It's good to see you."

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