*Katniss's POV*
The doorbell sounds and it chimes through my ears. Knocks on the front door appear abruptly, and I hesitantly walk towards it.
Peeta is unfortunately not home.
He had to interview someone for a job at the bakery, so that he could be home more of the time. I had voiced my disapproval towards the idea, but he thought it would assist him better. He explained that as much as he loved the bakery, he would much rather be at home, with me. Sometimes I feel as if he bases all of his choices on me, and I feel somewhat guilty about it. I'm a small detail in his very complicated life. I shouldn't have this much power over what he decides on a daily basis.
I muster the courage to peer through the door hole. I thankfully, do not find Gale. I find a child, who I have not seen in a while.
"Flynn," I remark while opening the door. My face shifts from joy to uncertainty once I view his red-rimmed eyes. The once happy face emotes sadness, and tears line the bottoms of his eyelids. "What's wrong, darling?"
"I saw it all happen. I saw it all happen and I didn't even stick up for her, I—I just watched." He lets a tear slip down his face and I quickly drop to my knees, getting on his level. I place my hands on his face, holding his cheeks, and wipe away the oncoming flows of water.
"It's okay, everything's fine," I try to hush him but he interrupts me with sharp breaths.
"I froze, I didn't know what to do, I'm so sorry. I'm so greatly sorry." He leans into my shoulder.
I've never seen him this upset before and it worries me. I look around while holding him to my chest, and Annie's nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she doesn't know of Flynn's condition. It appears he didn't want to come to her either.
"Flynn, sweetheart, it's okay." I whisper softly.
I silently thank the world for Willow and Rye not being home. I couldn't handle Flynn being this upset and the two of them—I can rarely handle myself.
"Tell me who you're talking about."
"Willow." He breathes out shakily. "We were all outside because of the beautiful day. She was all by herself, singing." He trembles and I grab his hands, and he steadies himself. "They all had surrounded her—before I even had the chance to blink. I'm always looking out for her, Katniss. I always am. But the one time I look away, the one time I wasn't paying attention, everything crumbled."
Guilt.
He feels guilt.
I now understand why he has came to me about this, and not his mother. Because I am the most fond of this feeling. He knows I can't go a day without feeling horrible. I always knew there must've been something wrong, when I survived and everyone around me didn't. I knew something was terribly out of storyline. I was supposed to die. Not them. It gave me survivors guilt. And I believe it may be the worst feeling I've ever experienced.
"They grabbed at her hair. Her dress. Her body. I could hear the cruel things they said. They told her she didn't fit in, for reasons I can't even fathom. They told her that her skin was too pale, her hair too blonde, her eyes too bright. They said she was too ugly to be a victor's child, let alone two victor's together. I ran over there as fast as I could, I really did." He huffs and I can tell he's holding back tears.
"But I was too late. She had just accepted the fact that they didn't like how she looked. I tried telling her that's everything about her is beautiful because she is, but it was no use. All of those stupid kids use her, for answers on tests, for anything, yet constantly criticize her. And she fell apart. And I can't fix it, I can't fix her."
My child. My sweet child. She didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve any of the cards she's been dealt. She's been screwed right since the beginning. This is all my fault.
I feel myself begin to break down when I look at him. His face full of sorrow and remorse.
"Please don't blame yourself," I tear up while looking at his defeated look. "This isn't you're fault. If anything, you helped greatly. I wouldn't have known if it wasn't for you—"
"She knows, Katniss." He starts while cutting me off. My eyebrows raise in confusion, and my body seems to be confused by all of the sudden emotions in my system. "They told her what you did. They told her about the games."
"I—I don't—" I begin, but I spot her. She comes running through the door, and I hear her cries as she runs up the stairs. Peeta follows just close behind and his face displays a look of hesitation as he watches Flynn and I crying as well.
"Katniss, are you alright?" He asks while walking towards me. I shrug it off and motion towards the stairs.
"We're fine, go find Willow." I start before looking back at Flynn. "She knows?" I ask with a tear streaming down my face.
"Everything." He voice breaks and he buries himself in my arms. I hear Peeta move up the stairs and I let him rest his head on my shoulder.
She knows. She knows I murdered thousands upon thousands of innocent people. Innocent young children and adults. None of them deserved what I caused.
I never meant for this to happen.
I never meant to start a rebellion or war.
I was merely surviving.
_
*Peeta's POV*
I hurry up the stairs and I walk towards her room. I knock on the door and I can hear her crying. I open the door to find her siting on the edge of her bed, facing the wall. I close the door behind me and I walk towards her, sitting beside her.
"Sunshine," I start, being interrupted by her cries. The tears streaming down her face make me feel a thousand times worse.
"I can't do it." She lets a few tears run down her face before leaning into me, her head buried in my chest. I set my hand on her shoulder, moving my hand in small circles just like I do for Katniss.
"Focus on my hand." I say as she continues to take rapid and uneasy breaths. "Count how many times it goes around."
My heart aches every time I feel her gasp for air.
"They hurt my—they hurt my feelings—so bad." She stutters out in between her jagged breaths.
"Who, darling?" I ask softly. She shakes her head and I begin to play with her hair gently, continuing the circles in the other hand. "Tell me who did this and I can guarantee that they won't hurt you again."
"Everyone." She begins to cough due to how much she's been crying, and I can't take it. She's making herself sick by how upset she is.
This isn't okay. There's nothing okay about any of this.
"Try to take deep breaths for me," I whisper to her. "I'll do it with you. Breathe in slowly and hold it there." I say while taking a deep breath. I can tell she's trying by the way her cries become muted. "Breathe out slowly." I can feel her breathe onto my shirt and I feel relieved once I tell she's calmed—even if it's a minimal amount. "Do it again."
The process continues, time passing by slowly with each breath. She eventually sits up to look at me.
"Flynn was the only one who helped me," she remarks with tears lining her eyes. "The only one."
"He's always going to protect you, Willow. He deeply cares about you."
She nods her head and a single tear escapes from her eye. "I'm so sorry for worrying you and Mom. I should've just ignored them. This whole thing is pathetic—"
I cut her off instantly while wiping the tear off her cheek.
"You aren't pathetic whatsoever. You're entitled to feel whatever you want to feel. You can't stop the feelings nor change them. And please, don't feel bad. Your mother and I just want the best for you, whether that means worrying or simply looking out for you." She looks down into her lap and I sigh, looking away.
"You know, don't you?" I ask. A bird flys by the window and lands on the windowsill, singing a melody that is not nearly as beautiful as Katniss's. When she sings, the birds stop to listen. I miss hearing her sing whenever she wanted to. But I'm afraid it reminds her too much of Prim. "You know about what we've done."
"I know that you and mom had to kill people to survive. I know that Mom led our country to freedom. I know that Flynn's dad was killed because of the past president. And I know Mom's sister was killed." She says. "I know that's probably not the full story, but I like the version in my head. I know you guys aren't monsters like you think."
"We'll never be proud of what we've done. It takes your whole life away to kill somebody innocent."
"That doesn't mean you're a monster." She remarks while standing up. I nod my head, changing the subject. I don't enjoy talking about the past. There's so many memories that I never want to remember.
"Go talk to Flynn. I think he's very concerned about you." I mention while standing up off her bed. She nods her head as she walks past me.
"I think he might be my best friend." She smiles while looking down, and her cheeks become blushed.
"I'm glad you think that."
_
*Katniss's POV*
Flynn and I have been siting by the door for a while now. The tears have reluctantly faded, although we both mutually feel melancholy. She knows. She knows about everything I have done, everything I've ruined. I've tried so desperately to keep this side of me from her. It's obvious she'll never see me the same way again. When she walks down those stairs, all she's going to see is a monstrous mess.
I don't know why I'm still here. I feel like there's nothing left for me in the world anymore. Ever since I gave her the idea of starving herself, I haven't felt the same. I was actually elated to be alive for some time, but now I see no point. Nothing left.
"May I speak with you, Flynn?" I startle at the sound of her angelic voice.
She doesn't sound as upset as I had pictured, yet I don't dare to bring my head out of my knees. The floor shifts slightly as he stands up and I can hear a door close in the other room. Suddenly, a hand slides down my back and I feel it begin to move in small circles.
"You can lift your head, darling. Everything is alright." My head remains in the same place and I wait until the tear rolls down my cheek to begin speaking.
"Please don't be mad at me," I beg into my knees. "Please."
"I could never be mad at you, Katniss, you know that." He remarks while brushing the hair off my face. "Let me see you, I want to know you're okay."
I shake my head and clutch harder against my knees. "I can't."
He doesn't reply and almost seems to understand, which isn't surprising because he rarely doesn't. The circles continue, going around for the ninth time. I try to match my inhales and exhales to them but it's hard. I feel like the world is enclosing on me.
Suffocating.
Oppressive.
Confined.
My chest can barely move in and out. Breaths are staggered. Everything suddenly seems so tight.
"Katniss, breathe." His voice breaks on the end and I can tell he's upset.
I take a deep breath in, and I hold it there. I exhale slowly and suddenly the world takes a step back. It releases its constraints on me. I pick my head up out of my knees quickly, not wanting to feel that again.
"You can't be mad at me," I bring my hands towards my face to cover myself—building a wall that does not work efficiently.
Warm, gentle hands grab mine, pulling them away from my face. I resist at first, not wanting to be seen like this, but I give in, knowing I can feel safe with him. His hand finds my chin and tilts it towards him, giving me a sorrowful look.
"Everything's okay now. Willow feels fine—" he starts but I cut him off with my cries.
"But I'm not." I start while looking at him, a tear ricocheting down my face. "Can't you tell?"
I remove my hand from his to wipe away the tear, and I miss sensation of the circles. I miss the distraction of them being drawn so simply onto my back.
"I don't want to be here anymore. I don't feel joy in being alive. I don't want to be here." I break down, in front of him.
My body collapses, any walls hiding my feelings shut down. I crawl into him, my arms wrapping around his neck and my head burying into his chest. I give myself to him. Like a crumpled piece of paper that begs to be straightened.
"How can I help you?" He whispers into my ear, hushing my muffled cries as he holds me tightly against his body.
"Let me die." I beg. "I don't want to go on." He doesn't say anything more, and he almost seems frightened.
I look up at him and his face is pale as he looks out the open front door. I try to regain his attention by readjusting myself in his arms but he only moves with me, his face staying in the exact same direction.
Why's he acting this way? What have I done?
He always begs me to tell him what's upsetting me. And when I finally cave in, trusting him enough, he acts distant. Pretending he hasn't heard what I just confessed.
_
The letter was left in the mailbox. I don't think it was meant for me. Perhaps I misread the label, because the contents inside were not written to me. They were written for Haymitch.
I read it over and over, trying to fathom the words. I feel like I could faint, the simple letters spelling out my worst nightmare.
Peeta wants to leave me. He wants to leave me for Delly.