Pure Torture: a Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 85

Katniss

"I wish I could do better by you,
'cause that's what you deserve
You sacrifice so much of your life
In order for this to work." -City and Colour

5 years later

"Mommy! Mommy!" Willow yells, her little footsteps nearing my room. Soft sunlight comes through the widow in Peeta and I's room. My entire body feels as if it's made of lead, impossible to move and like a weight is crushing down on me.

She rounds the corner and comes into the room, smiling widely.
"Good morning, mommy!" She says happily.
Peeta comes in behind her and repeats what she says.
"Good morning, mommy." He says, cracking a little smile.

Willow comes over to the side of the bed and looks to her father for a bit of help.
"Daddy?" She asks.
He lifts her up onto the bed and she comes crawling over to me.
"Are you okay, mommy?" She asks, puzzled by my quiet response or lack thereof.

"Yeah, Will. I'm okay." I say quietly.
She lays next to me, her back pressed against my chest. I put my arm around her little body and pull her closer.
"I love you, Willow." I say.
"I love you, mommy." She replies happily.

Peeta sits down on the bed.
"Willow, are you excited for your first day of school tomorrow?" He asks her.
Her head pops up and she smiles.
"Yes, daddy!" She says.

Tomorrow, our little girl starts her first day of school. It's only kindergarten, where she'll learn how to spell and how to sound out words and how to add 2+2, but it's a huge milestone for her.

Peeta and I learned quite early on that we passed a great deal of our own traits on to her. She's quiet and observant around most people, but when she speaks, she's a little charmer. She's stubborn as a bull, and we all know where that came from. Her dark brown hair curls a little bit at the ends, taking on the color from me and the slight curl from Peeta. But not everything we've passed on is good.

We learned a little bit after she was 6 months old that she has nightmares. Just like us. And it happens a lot. When we finally told her doctor after a few sleepless nights of trying to quiet her, she explained to us that it could have been expected considering the problems in my brain. Her doctor, Doctor Griffin, explained some long theory to us about what the doctors think happened. I hardly paid attention, though. I was too worried about how Willow was going to deal with it.

By now, we've figured out little ways to help her. But, just like us, they don't really go away and she just has to live with it.

"What do you want to do today, Willow?" I ask her.
"Hmm..." She thinks quietly.
"I want to paint with you, daddy. Something like you had painted before. With the trees and the flowers and the duck!" She says suddenly.
"Willow, you weren't supposed to say anything about that!" Peeta scolds lightly.

She turns her head to look at me and then returns her gaze to Peeta.
"Mommy?" She asks.
"Yeah?"
"Did you hear any of that?" She asks guiltily.
I decide to save her the guilt and trouble and I tell her no.
She sighs and the gets up and out of the bed.

"Sorry, daddy." She says, hugging his leg.
"I forgive you, peanut." He says, calling her the little nickname he's called her ever since she was a baby.
"Hey, Willow? Why don't you go downstairs and see what Annie and Finn are doing?" I suggest.
She nods and I listen intently as her footsteps fade away.

"So, what's this I hear about a painting?" I ask, sitting up and smirking a little.
"It's nothing." He says before winking.
"I'm sure." I reply sarcastically.
"I guess that'll teach me to not tell her any secrets anymore." Peeta says.
"You're right. She's such a bad liar, which is good. Then when we ask if she's been kissing any boys, we'll know if she's lying." I reply.
"Let's... Not talk about my little girl kissing any boys." Peeta says.