Blooming in the Spring

Chapter 3

When nearly an hour passes after the storm begins to subside, I figure Peeta is waiting for me to leave without him before making his exit. I don't blame him, I don't particularly want to be around me either.

The rain outside has been reduced to a soft sprinkle and the air smells like spring. Soon, I know the dandelions will begin to pop out of the ground and a glimmer of hope for warmer weather and better days will spread around the district.

I've always loved spring, though there has always been a sense of dread behind it as my birthday approaches and I know I have to take out additional tesserae. This year will be different, though. In some ways, good. I don't have to worry about the Games anymore. I have more money than I could ever need and the freedom to do just about whatever I please, so any sort of work expected from a normal 18-year-old is not necessary. But I will be turning another year older without my little sister by my side. My little sister, who will never grow older than 14. She deserved to celebrate her birthday, not me.

I wish Prim a silent hello as I pass by the primrose bush Peeta planted in front of my house. Planting those flowers was one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me and I'm not sure I'll ever have the words to thank him. I hope he knows how appreciative I am. I wish I was better at showing it.

My house is dark, quiet, and empty feeling--though it's filled with countless knickknacks and furniture and things that hold no particular meaning to me. It may as well be deserted.

Sitting alone on the couch, my hands begin to shake as I try to control thoughts of Prim and Peeta and loneliness and lost children that I know all too well. They still haunt my dreams every night.

I curse myself for being such a mess. I've always been better off alone, haven't I? Isn't that what I'm known as--the independent, stoney-faced girl who needs nothing and no one but herself to survive? So why is it that I can't be alone for more than a few minutes without breaking down, longing desperately for something to rid my mind of the horrible thoughts dancing around it? I hate what I've become. I hate what they've made me become. They've taken everything from me and left behind only a shell of a girl that I do not recognize when I look in the mirror. I am empty and broken and everyone can see it, they can see straight through me. I see it in their eyes when I pass them on the street and when Haymitch and Peeta and Greasy Sae look at me.

I just want myself back. I want my sister back. My life. My friends. Peeta. He's gone too. I'll never get back the boy he once was and I don't know how to deal with it. I hardly know how to look him in the eyes without breaking down over it. It's my fault he's gone. It's my fault they're all gone.

I don't know when I start crying but my thoughts are interrupted by a knock at my door. Probably Haymitch coming back to check on me again. I suppose it's my own fault for guilting him over not visiting.

I futilely wipe the tears from my cheeks and open the door, prepared and ready to tell Haymitch to leave me alone. The words almost spill right out of my mouth before my mind registers that it's not Haymitch on my front porch, but Peeta. His eyes scan my face, heavy with worry and sadness.

I swallow hard and avert his gaze.

"Hey," he says softly, shifting his weight from his false leg to the other. "Can I come in?"

I hesitate for a second, studying his expression. Ultimately, I turn from the doorway and let him in. What am I going to do, tell him no?

He approaches the living room with caution and I know he's trying to think of the right words to say. He'll figure it out, I'm sure. He's always been much better at the whole communication thing. Though I suppose that was the old Peeta. This version of him tends to ramble a bit more, confuses words on occasion, and has a bit of an edge to his tone that was never there before. It makes speaking with him even more difficult, though I know it's selfish. Too often I let myself imagine what things would have been like if the roles were reversed. If I had been taken by the Capitol and hijacked instead. I can confidently say that Peeta would have been there beside me the entire time. He would have been kind and gentle and patient and he wouldn't even blink, I'm sure, if I cursed him out and spit angry words at him like he's done with me. He would love me through it anyways, no matter how much it hurt him.