Wishing to be Dead.

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*Katniss's POV*

I watch as Prim runs to help someone from the previous explosion, kneeling beside them and taking out her medical bag. I begin to call out to her, screaming her name. I watch as she turns and looks at me, but there's only a few moments before the explosion hits, once again. I watch her become engulfed in flames, and I'm catapulted backwards until I hit the ground. My entire body begins to light on fire, and I look up at the sky, motionless, and I watch as the once blue sky turns grey.

I wake up from my dream screaming, and I fight to catch my breath. I begin to cough from my lack of breathing, and I close my eyes in an attempt to close out any tears that might begin falling down my face. I pull my knees towards my chest, and I sit there for a long time, waiting for the exhaustion to hit me.

I'm startled from my position by the sound of my front door closing downstairs. I quickly crawl across my mattress, and I reach towards my nightstand. I open the drawer, scrummaging through it until I can grip the knife I've hidden in the palm of my hand. I remember when I put this here, because I began to understand why Haymitch slept with a knife all those years. I hope one day I'll eventually feel safe enough to keep it downstairs—although, maybe I'll be dead before I do.

I back into the corner of my room as my door slowly creaks open. I extend my arm at the door, the blade facing directly in the middle, and I brace myself for whoever walks in that door.

Once that door opens, I'll have no idea what to expect. This feels like reliving the games again—not knowing what'll happen next. I can't help but ask myself, would I fight back if the person that walks through the door has intentions to hurt me? Or would I just allow myself to be be killed? Because truly, I have no reason to live anymore. This could be the end of me, and I'm not too concerned about it.

I'm not living. I'm just stuck here, reluctantly breathing in and out.
He walks in slowly, and his blue eyes glisten in the bright moonlight. I drop my knife, shaking, and let out a deep sigh.

"You scared the hell out of me," I begin, catching my breath.
"I'm sorry," he starts with a worried tone as he softly approaches me. "I heard you screaming, and I came over to make sure you were okay." He picks up the knife that I dropped on the floor and places it on the dresser beside him.
"Nightmare." I remark, using his extended hands to pull myself up. He nods knowingly, and I look up at him.

There's a silence between us, and there almost looks like there's something he wants to say. I wait for him to begin, but he doesn't, and I watch as his face turns to hesitation and he takes a step back from me.
"If you're alright, then I'll get going." He says, still looking at me. I nod my head, and he gives me a short smile. "Goodnight, Katniss." I watch as he moves towards the door, and a sense of realization washes over me.

I can't let him leave tonight. I won't be able to sleep. I miss when he used to comfort me. But is he ready? I don't want to be the one to push him into something he's not ready for; I don't even know if I'm ready. All I know is I can't be alone.

"Peeta?" The squeak croaks out of my throat rapidly, and it seems as if I didn't have a choice in speaking—it just happened. He turns around at the sound of my voice and searches my face for an explanation, like he used to do long ago. "Will you stay with me?" I'm just as shocked as he is, hearing that come from my mouth.
It seems we've been so distant lately, maybe this'll be the change we need.
"Yeah." He mentions softly. "Always."

As I'm carefully laying in his arms, I remember the days on the train. His arms having a feeling of reluctancy, like they aren't as strong as they were before. Although he's came so far, I know I'll never have the Peeta I once knew back. He's gone. But just maybe, some of his old characteristics might show through. He'll always be the compassionate and caring person he's been. Nothing can change that. But his feelings toward me can. They can change like the temperature outside; rapidly and drastically.

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