Pure Torture: a Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 78

"Peeta, I'm serious. It's okay..."
"Stop. Please just stop." He says.
My hand finds the back of his neck and the only words that come to me spill out of my mouth.
"Kiss me."
"What?" He asks.
"Kiss. Me." I repeat, looking straight into his eyes.

And so he does, in the middle of Willow's nursery. And even though we're alone, everyone and everything seems to stop. Time freezes. The moment our lips meet, a sense of warmth floods my body. I want him. I love him. Nobody else but Peeta, the boy with the bread. The boy who, despite being a stranger, threw me bread and saved my life. Did he know this would happen? I didn't...

This is my life. This is where I belong. I never want to let go of him.

--

"Can, uh, can I go see Prim?" I ask Peeta, who sits across the table from me.
"Now? Yeah, sure. Let me grab my jacket..." He replies, starting to get up.
I put my hand on his.
"No. Just me." I say quietly.

"Just... You?" He repeats.
"Just me. I need to be alone with her."
"But what if you... What if something...?" He stutters.
"Nothing's going to happen. Trust me." I say.

I know he's reluctant. I know he probably wants to handcuff me to the table right now so I don't leave his sight. He's worried, but he knows he can't say no. He knows I'll go anyway, whether he says yes or no.

He sighs.
"Please be back before sundown." He says, glancing outside.
"I promise." I reply, heading towards the door.
"Katniss, you're literally 9 months pregnant. Don't do anything stupid and if something feels wrong, come home. Prim will understand." He says, coming over to kiss me before I leave.

"Got it. Nothing stupid. I'll come home if something's off." I reply, "I love you."
"I love you, too, Katniss." He says.
I shut the door behind me and try to run as best I can, holding my stomach to steady myself and it.
I get tired incredibly quickly, but I keep going until I reach the cemetery.

Out of breath, I kneel in front of Prim's grave when I find it.
"Hey...Prim." I say, between my rapid breaths.
I try to imagine her voice. Sometimes I hear her laugh, and in my dreams she talks all the time to me, but I can't conjure it up.

"It's been so long, Prim. I can't even remember what your voice sounds like anymore. I know I hear you all the time in my dreams and stuff, but I just wish I could talk to you again. Out here. In the real world." I say.
I sit quietly, as if waiting for a response I know won't come.

"I don't know if you actually know this or not. Hell, I don't even know if you're listening to me somehow or not. Maybe I'm just crazy, sitting here and trying to talk to you, but here I am. And there you are. But I'm pregnant, Prim. It's my birthday today and my due date? It's tomorrow. I could have this baby any moment now.

I'm naming her Willow. I know you loved that name. And her middle name is going to be Primrose. Prim, I'm so scared. I'm so, so scared. I need you to help me through it. I don't know how you can, but please, I need it." I say, tears welling up in my eyes.

I burst into tears right then and there, wishing only for my sister to hold my hand and hug me and tell me it's all going to be okay. Peeta's the only family I have left. Dad and Prim are dead. My mother still hasn't spoken to me. Gale? Who knows about Gale.

"I need you, Prim. Please come back. Please be here." I cry out.

And for a moment, just a small wisp of time, I feel a hand on my back. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I'm so far down in the depth of grief, I'm imagining things. Maybe I'm so scared I've gone mad. But I feel it. And it feels like my sister.

When the sun starts to set, I pick myself up and drag myself home.
Peeta sits anxiously awaiting my arrival.
He looks relieved when I shut the door behind me.
"Everything okay?" He asks.
I nod my head.
"Feel better?"
"Yeah." I reply.

--

My face turns to look at my sister. She looks healthy and remarkably unchanged from when she was alive. We sit on the warm sand of a beach, and for some reason, I'm not thinking of the arena, with its salty water and hot sand. A small smile finds a home on her face when she sees me looking at her.
"I miss you. You know that, right?" I tell her.

She nods her head.
"Yeah, I know. I saw you at my grave during the day. I hear everything you say to me." She replies.
"Good. I need you to. There are just some things I can't say to Peeta. You know?" I say.
"Yeah. I understand what you mean, Katniss." She says.

"Are you ever... Angry with me?" Prim asks.
"What are you talking about?"
"Are you ever angry with me? Like, for dying?" She clarifies.

I mull over her question for a while.
"Mad isn't the right word. And I'm not mad at you, at least, not anymore. At first I was so angry that you died. Angry at myself, for not protecting you, angry at you for dying, angry at Coin for sending you out there... But now? I'm not mad. It's not anger. It's just, sadness." I explain.

"I wish I had gotten more time with you." She says.
"I wish you had just gotten more time, in general. With me or not. You should be here. You should be 20." I say.
"I know it's not fair, Katniss. But it's okay. We're okay." She says.
"It's not okay. It's not okay that you're dead. It's not okay that the only way we can talk is in my dreams. What if this isn't even real? What if you're just my brain telling me what I want to hear?" I ask.
I suddenly find myself distrustful of this Prim.

"I'm real, Katniss. You know I'm real." She says, placing a hand on my arm.
I close my eyes.
"Yeah, I know you're real." I say, trust flooding through my body again.

We sit in silence. I stroke my little sister's hair and I feel myself relaxing. It's so nice and peaceful.

Suddenly, Prim stiffens a little, then returns back to her gentle self.
"It's time." She says.
"What? What do you mean it's time? Time for what?" I ask.
She looks into my eyes.
"It's just... It's time." She says gently.
"Time for what?!" I ask.

Her eyes look sad in a way. What is it time for?
"Prim. Tell me!" I say. But it's too late. I feel the world around me disintegrating and reality coming to me.

It's 2AM. Why I'm awake, I don't know. I was having such a good dream of Prim and I, but now, it's gone. I wish I could feel her touch again... I wish I could hear her talk to me.

Peeta sleeps soundly next to me. I decide not to wake him, so I just lie quietly. After what feels like hours, but in reality is only minutes, I get up and walk listlessly to the bathroom. Just as I shut the door, I look down to see my pants are wet.

I wave of embarrassment washes over me before I try to reassure myself that nobody knows about this. It's not the first time it's happened, me peeing on accident, but part of me is still mortified.

After I put a new pair of pants on, I rummage through the medicine cabinet to find the sleeping pills that are safe for me to use this far through the pregnancy. I finally find it, the whole way in the back of the cabinet. I fill a glass with water and toss a pill back and head back to bed.

I sigh, trying to make sense of what Prim said to me in my dream. I feel a stab of pain as I try to sort out what she said and if it was even real.
"It's gotta be real..." I whisper into the darkness, hoping Prim might hear.

I roll over to face away from Peeta, who still sleeps heavily and soundly, snoring slightly.
I feel a little discomfort, probably from laying weird, and I wince a little.

But nothing, nothing, could prepare me for the breathtaking, excruciating pain that erupts through my body next.