Always: A Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 3

I don't own any of the Hunger Games characters, Suzanne Collins does.

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Katniss

"Katniss, please just go upstairs and sleep." Peeta begs.

"No, Peeta. I can't. I can't have another nightmare like that!" I say, trying to rid my voice of the desperateness I know is there. Peeta just stares at me.

"Katniss, I'll be right here. Just go up and rest. You need it." Peeta tells me. I scoff angrily but give into him and do what he says.

I walk up the stairs and lie down in my white bed. I look at the boring, white walls and sigh. Everything is so white and fancy. I hated that. I just want to live in my old house, with my mom and sister. But there was no possible way that will ever happen.

Not included my father, two things that I love were exploded. Prim and my home. I grunt and roll my eyes.

After about an hour, I get up and go into the shower. When I step out, steam rises into my face. I pul on a soft grey shirt and black pants. I weave my hair into a long plait. 

When I get back into my room I gasp. Sitting there, on my dresser is a painting of Prim. I back into the wall and hit the dresser, knocking things off. A glass bird shatters but I ignore it. I take cautious steps forward and look at the painting closer. 

Until now, I didn't even realize that tears are streaming uncontrollably down my face. They sting my eyes and show signs of weakness, something I hate showing. The drawing is so realistic. I have akmost no pictures of my little sister. We obviously couldn't afford a camera. I only have school pictures and one of her and my mother that still recides in Peeta's golden locket. 

I see her face in front of me. Her beautiful blue eyes and long, golden hair. Her round face, and perfect smile. She is absolutely flawless to me. She is my sister, and she always will be. I was the one who took care of her when she was sick and held her in my arms, and rocked her back to sleep when she had nightmares. I loved her more than anything. I still do. 

I back into my bed and sit on it, staring blankly at the painting. I hear footsteps come up the stairs.

"Katniss?" asks Peeta. I don't look at him. "I heard glass shatter. Are you ok?" He sees the tears. I don't move. I just continue to stare at the painting.

I know I am acting childish, but at the moment, I don't care. I don't care about anything anymore. There is nothing left for me to care about.

Peeta sits next to me, takes my hand, but I pull it right back. It's like what I did in the first tribute parade. He said the crowd would love it. Later, though, I learned that was not the case. He frowns at me, but seems to brush it off within the next second. 

"So, do you like the painting?" he asks, with a proud smile on his face.

"I. . ." I can't seem to make up any lies at the moment so I just say, "Can you please just get it out of here?" I ask. Then I walk out. When I hear Peeta come down the stairs after me, I run.

I grab my jacket and bolt out the door, not bothering to close it behind me. I know Peeta will, anyway. I run out of the Victor's Village gates and into the broken buildings and rubble. Some people are there, roaming around, searching for anything that has survived.

Some people are starting to repair some of the homes and buildings. I run right past them. When I got to the Seam, tears started falling rapidly. This place used to be my home. I kick a piece of blacktop and watch as it rolls down a hill. I look at my old house.

I can still see the foundation, but everything else lies in scattered heaps around it. I pick up what looks to be a broken part of a clock. I brush it off, and toss it back.

I walk onto the foundation. Everything comes flooding back. I can still see the charred start of the stairs. One wall is still partially there and I can see that part of the top floor was barely hanging on to the adjacent wall. Prim and I slept up there. She walked up there, and here. She was here.

I see the remains of the old table where we used to have the occasional meal. There isn't much, just a lot of ashes. There is a pile of burnt glass in what used to be the corner of the kitchen. 

I can't stay there anymore. The stench of smoke fills my nose and makes me feel queasy. It takes all the strength I didn't know I have not to collapse. I shed one last tear, kiss my hand softly and place it to the front of the house, where the door used to be. 

"Goodbye..." I whisper. Then I turn around and bolt for the woods. It's not like it matters that I go into the woods anymore anyway. There isn't even the big fence. Just a short white wood one. In some ways, I miss having it there. I miss the thrill of breaking the Capitol's rules. But I guess I've broken every one, there isn't anything left. 

I jump over the fence and dart into the woods. Immediately, the comforting scent of pine overpowers the stench of smoke. 

I lean against a big tree with dark green leaves. I walk slowly to a log where I used to store my bow. It's been here for so long. I haven't even touched it since the last time I was in the woods with Gale. I'm surprised it survived the flames, though it is fairly far from the District's outskirts. I pick it up and run my hands over the smooth wood, tracing the dusty carvings with my fingers.

I take a deep breath and rest my bow on my shoulder. I'm not going to shoot anything, but I feel that I should bring it with me anyway. I'm not sure I can handle leaving it here right now. 

I turn my head, longing for some type of comfort. I long for my sister, my father, even my mother. There is only one place I can think of that can give me that tiny sliver of serenity and peace. I begin walking. 

Hope you like this story so far! Thanks for reading!