Unthinkable

Chapter 2~ "Not Real"

It's funny how things can change so quickly. Well maybe not funny in my case. It's more . . . Unusual. It's what makes you wonder if things will ever find the right path. It seems that everything that happens in my life is a wrong turn. And the worst part of it all is that you can't turn around or take another path to lead yourself back on the right track. Chances are if you take anymore turns, they will be wrong like the others.

How come I couldn't have realized earlier how dull the world is without my sister. Everyday, waking up is misery knowing that the images of the past will overtake my mind, but sleep is no better. It's as if she was taken away from me as a wake up call to start putting my time into things like my sister rather than the ridiculous rebellion or Peeta and Gale. I regret every second of my past not spent with her, but I can't just say that and get her back because it's just like that path and I've traveled too far and lost my way.

If she did die to get me focused on important things in my life, then it hasn't worked. I spend all day sitting in a rocking chair dwelling on the past and dreading the future. Sometimes I think about maybe trying harder to spend time on important things, but what is important that is still in my life? I tell myself that Gale is important to me and Greasy Sae, even Haymitch. And although I don't love Peeta in the way he loves me, I still care about him. But it isn't fair because the person who was most important to me in life has slipped away before I had the chance to show her how much she means to me. If I could pick up my mistakes and start over, I wouldn't waste a second to tell her I love her.

Everyday, since war five months ago, people come into my house -which I can barely describe since I spend all day in one spot- and try to get me to eat, drink, or talk. I only cooperate with one person and that is Gale. He finds it odd that I listen to him and can still bare looking at him, but I don't. In his mind, my sister's death is his fault. He tells me that everyday, but I think otherwise. If you invent a gun and someone else gets hold of it and shoots someone, are you responsible for their death? It's what opinion you have on that theory that determines rather or not it is his fault, and we both have different ones.

I know that I love Gale and no matter what he says or does, he will not change that. I don't understand why he can't just let me love him and let himself love me. He does love me, he just thinks I deserve better, but if I don't want to change my mind then what does it matter who I deserve and who I don't? And yet sure enough, he persists that I deserve someone like Peeta, but the problem with that is- I don't want someone like Peeta. He is too kind and I can't operate with him. He confuses me like crazy and always wants things that I don't. For example, he wants a touchy/feely love where we rush into getting married and having kids. I'd rather give it time and live day by day growing together and bonding more before rushing into that.

What irks me always is when Gale recalls that time roughly a year ago when he made a promise that he would never let anything happen to my family or me. Now that Prim is dead he calls that betrayal, but really it's just fate. He couldn't control what happened at that moment and unfortunately, things turned out for the worse. I would say this to him if I could, but every time he mentions it, I choke up at the memory.

Today, as always, I sit in my rocking chair staring out of my window. The season is autumn and the chilly breeze it conceals tags along with its name extra ferociously this year. I could imagine how cold it is outside, but I haven't been outdoors in so long that it seem so distant from my memory. I think about stepping out sometimes just to feel the way it used to feel on my skin, but I know that even if I do then it won't feel the same. Nothing ever will.

The trees sway back and forth and the moon starts to appear in the barely visible light left in the day along with the few twinkles of stars. I suppose going out there for a moment wouldn't hurt, I think to myself, longing the woods which I have been away from for what seems like years now. I slide the thought into a file cabinet in my mind as something I will do tomorrow. Chances are I won't, but it's worth a shot.