Always: A Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 135

Katniss

The car ride back to our temporary home is even more silent as it was on the way to the memorial. Peeta won't look at me, but I don't ask him to. I tell myself that this is what I wanted. I'm doing this to protect them all from getting hurt by me again.

But what if I'm wrong? What if I'm just causing them more pain? Guilt surges throughout my body, coursing through my veins.

I make the mistake of glancing back to the memorials as the car slowly pulls out onto the road. Everything hits me at once. Guilt, anger, pain, sadness. I close my eyes and think of Prim. I think of how devasted she would have been that I was too stubborn to bother to care about the place that honors her death. All of the faces of the dead come rushing back to me at once. Some of the faces I recognize, some I don't. But it doesn't matter because I'm the reason they're dead. And I couldn't even sum up the decency to try and honor them. Once again, I've failed everyone. I have disappointed not only the living, but the dead.

I clamp my eyes shut tightly and keep my head facing towards the window. If I cry now, I don't want anyone to see it. There are too many people in this car. I feel cornered. I feel overwhelmed, yet so lonely. I've managed to cause even Peeta to be disappointed in me. I steal a quick glimpse of him. He's brushing silent tears from his cheeks. I want to say something to him, I really do. But I'm not sure what I would say or how I would say it so I keep my mouth shut.

It feels like ages, but we finally arrive at the hotel. I slowly ease my way out of the car. I feel as though if I make any movements too suddenly, I'll crumble into nothingness. That's what I feel is happening inside of me. My world is very slowly breaking down. It has been for a very long time.

Once we get to our rooms, I practically make a bee-line for the bathroom. I have to have time alone to try and calm myself down. Instead, I end up doing the opposite. As soon as the bathroom door closes behind me, it feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room. I can't breathe, I can't see straight, and I most definetely can't think. I grasp the edge of the granite countertop and shut my eyes, attempting to take deep breaths. It feels as though the walls of this room, this building, are closing down on me. Everything seems so quiet, yet so loud at the same time. Yet, I still don't cry. I feel like I have too. Maybe it would even make me feel better. But no tears fall.

I gasp for air and bow my head to avoid looking at myself in the mirror. Once I give up on trying to steady my breathing, I stand under the icy cold water falling down from the faucet in the shower. I hug my arms to my chest and let the water cascade through my ragged hair and down my scarred body.

After several minutes, in the shower I turn off the water. I seem to have caught my breath now. It's when I glance at the vile figure in the mirror, I lose it once again. She stands there, sopping wet. Her damp hair sticks to her skin. Her eyes look distant and gone, her skin as white as a sheet. This person, who looks like she's nothing more but an underfed Seam girl, has caused so much violence and sorrow. How could she be me? How did my life end up like this? What did I do to deserve this? Growing up, I was a good daughter and sister. I always listened to my parents. I took care of my baby sister when she needed me. I was patient, quiet, and kind. Besides animals, I was afraid of hurting anyone. I did my work and I always did whatever I was supposed to. I didn't let myself get greedy and I wasn't selfish. How did volunteering to take my little sister's place in a game of death lead to this? Wasn't volunteering in her place a good thing, a selfless thing? How could it have caused so much violence and pain?

Looking at my reflection finally causes the hot tears to fall from my vacant eyes. In the end, it wasn't Peeta or the memorial or the pain and guilt that made me sob. It was looking at my own image. Because I'm the only one who has the capability of hurting myself this much. I've done this to myself, just like I've hurt everyone else in my life. And I still do. I continue to hurt everyone.