*Willow's POV*
I can't get out of bed. The longer I stay in my bed, the longer I can live in the lie that my mother is okay. The longer I stay in bed, the longer I can trick myself into thinking that she's going to come home.
The longer I stay in bed, the longer I can forget that Flynn is not here anymore, and the longer I can forget that my dad is waiting for me downstairs.
The longer I stay in bed, the more he begins to knock on my door. And the longer I stay in bed, the longer I can hear his sniffles from behind my door.
He then walks in my room, and when I hear his voice, I start crying.
"Sunshine." He says, and I immediately begin to sob.
I knew this was coming, yet the reality of it all pains me. It hurts my mind in ways I didn't even know were possible.
I feel my bed shift slightly as he sits down on the edge of it, and I try to soften my cries—not stopping them but quieting them down.
"She wrote you a letter." He says, his voice breaking slightly. "There's a few of them."
"I—I don't think I can read it, Dad." I manage to get out in between tears. "I just want her back."
"I want her back too, Willow." He starts, a tear rolling down his cheek. "I would give anything for just 5 more minutes with her."
I don't say anything. My heart hurts too bad to say anything. I can't even think without hurting.
He stands up off my bed, and I can hear him place a piece of paper on my bedside table—which I assume is the letter.
Just as he's about to walk out of my room, I ask one more question.
"Is there blood anywhere?" I ask, my voice quiet and fragile. "I don't think I could handle seeing it."
"She didn't do it that way, darling." He remarks, a residue of tears on his cheeks. "She found a nightlock pill."
"What's that?" I sit up due to my lungs feeling like they're caving in on themselves. I take in a deep breath as I do this, trying to calm down.
"It's this pill made out of these deadly berries." He starts, not making eye contact with me. "She found it in the suit I had during the revolution."
His voice cracks, and my heart breaks because I know he's blaming himself for this. He has no reason to blame himself, but I'm guessing he is anyways. I'm sure the letter she wrote to him isn't helping either—I can't imagine him being able to read a letter about her last thoughts.
"I'm going to go to Flynn's." I say softly, picking up the letter from my bedside table. "I probably should read this, and I won't be able to do it without him."
"There's a few letters for him too." He remarks, still not meeting my eyes. "They're on the table."
I nod my head in acknowledgment, and I walk towards him before hugging him. He embraces me, but I can tell his arms are hesitant.
I know why they're like that, but I try to push the reason out of my head. He smiles down at me as I pull away, but I can still see the tears in his waterline. I flash him a fake smile and then I leave my room, heading down the stairs.
The house feels so empty without her here, and I don't know what to do. It's only been a day, and yet the entire house feels barren.
I wish my mom was here. I wish I could remember the last time I hugged her.
_
*Flynn's POV*
There's a knock on my door, and I call for her to come in—expecting my mother. To my surprise, it's Willow, and my mood is immediately brightened. I smile at the sight, her being a distraction from my dwelling thoughts on Katniss, and I notice envelopes in her hand.
I watch as she walks towards me, and she sits on the edge of my bed. I sit up slightly, and I notice her staring down at the letters.
"My mom left you these, Flynn." She hands me four letters, and my heart shatters at the sight of them.
My hands shakes as I grab them from her grasp, and I look at the labels on each of them.
Flynn—The Goodbye.
Flynn—The Funeral.
Flynn—Missing Me.
Flynn—Advice.
"When did she do this?" I ask, looking at the pile of letters.
"I don't know." She says, staring at the one letter she has in her hands. "My dad is a wreck and I can't bare to ask him anything, and Rye hasn't came home from Johanna's house."
"We don't have to talk about this," I say whilst grabbing the letter out of her hands and placing it beside me. "Think about something else for a little while, Lo."
"I can't." She remarks, and a tear falls down her cheek.
I reach up and wipe away the tear before pulling her into my arms. She buries her head in the crook of my neck, and I can tell she's crying. I run my hand up and down her back, trying my best to comfort her.
"I'm so sorry, Willow." I remark softly, and she finally lets out a cry. "You're okay, love."
"Why wasn't I enough for her to stay?" She asks, but I don't have an answer. "Why am I not enough?"
"Willow—" I start, but she cuts me off.
"I've never been enough, Flynn." She sobs into me. "I wasn't enough the first time she tried this, I—I wasn't enough to stop her this time, I've never been good enough—"
"Willow." I say, gently taking her face in my hands and forcing her to face me. "You were always enough for her, Lo. She would talk about you to me for hours, and she wouldn't run out of things to brag about."
"She did?" She asks, looking at me. I laugh softly at her, and I nod my head before leaning up and kissing her forehead.
"I remember this one time where she told me how proud she was that you used the oven without her. She watched from around the corner as you put the bread into the oven, just to make sure you didn't get burned." I say, caressing her cheek with my finger.
"I thought she was asleep when I did that." She remarks, but I shake my head.
"She also spent an entire hour talking about how you painted her a painting of a pond and a duck when you were five just so you could make her feel better." I say, and I watch as she doesn't say anything.
Instead, she lies back down on my chest, and lets the rest of her tears fall.
"I don't think I can read my letter, Flynn." She lets out, and I run my hands through her blonde hair.
"That's okay, sweetheart." I smile, just being happy that she's moved on from the last topic.
She doesn't say anything, and I can tell she's thinking and rethinking everything she just thought of. I notice her playing with the locket I got her, and it worries me because she only does that when she's upset.
If she hadn't of given me all of her blades, I think losing Katniss would've been the final blow for her. Willow is one step away from being in the same position as Katniss was, and it kills me to think she could do the same as her mother did.
If she still had those, I don't think I would've been able to leave her alone. I need her—I couldn't even go a week without her. Losing her—
Stop.
I can't think about that—I—I need to stop.
I notice her still, and I look down to see her eyes shut and her face peaceful. I smile at the sight, just being grateful to have her. I don't dare to move, wanting her to sleep as long as she can.
Suddenly, I hear a crash downstairs.
Shit.
I curse as I try to get up as gently as possible, trying to move out of her grasp. I finally am able to get up, and I quickly move out of the room to see a bunch of things at the bottom of the stairs.
I move down them as quickly as I can, finding my mother surrounded by almost every possession we have, and her hands in her red hair.
"What is going on?" I ask, motioning to the huge mess.
"Finnick—where is he?" She asks. "He just died, you told me he died—but he's alive, I know he is."
"Mom, he's been gone for over a decade." I run my hands through my hair, taking a deep breath whilst looking at the mess.
I lean down to start cleaning up the mess and then I see a newspaper on the ground. I pick it up and I see the bold headline.
"Katniss Everdeen Dead at 38."
Katniss.
"Is this what scared you?" I ask, turning the paper so she can see the headline. She nods quickly, and I sigh at the sight before standing again.
"Mom, Katniss just passed away, not Dad." I say quietly, handing her the newspaper so she can see the black-and-white photo of Katniss.
They sure can write these articles quick.
"Katniss?" She asks, and I nod my head tentatively.
She stares at the photo before dropping the newspaper and then walking out of the room. I sigh before throwing the article on the table and turning around. I take in the sight of the mess before climbing back up the stairs.
I'll clean up that mess later.
To my luck, I walk back into my room to find her still asleep. I smile at the sight of her soft blonde hair, but my face changes as I'm reminded of Katniss.
I look over towards the letters she handed me, and I grab the top one. I open it quietly, craving some sort of explanation for why she did this.
All I want is an answer, Katniss.
Just an answer.
I pull the piece of paper out of the envelope, and the sight of her handwriting brings me to tears. I reread it over and over, but it still provides no explanation—and I feel cheated.
"Dear, Flynn.
You are one of the best things that could have happened to my family, darling. I can't even recall how many times you have saved me, let alone how many times you've saved my entire family.
Everyday you continue to make Willow's life worth living, and that's something I've never been able to do. I hope you continue to do that for her, even when I'm not here anymore.
You've been apart of my family since the day I met you. Your humor and selflessness reminds me of your father, and I'll be sure to tell him all about your adventures and life once I see him again. He would be so proud of you, Flynn.
I'm so proud of you, too.
You've became the person I knew you'd become, and that person is the most caring individual I've met in a while. Your unwavering love and support for everyone, including myself and Willow, has never failed to show. Your thoughtfulness and compassion towards Rye will always be appreciated by me, and I'm so thankful that my children have you in their lives.
I promise I'll always be around for you, even if I'm not physically there. I'm so proud of you now, and I know I'm always going to proud of you, especially when I'm gone.
I'm sorry for everything I've caused you to go through, and I'm sorry I'm leaving.
I love you.
- Katniss."
I hold the letter to my chest, and I let a few tears fall. I miss her so much, she was practically my second mother. I just wish I could've convinced her to do otherwise, just like I did a few years ago.
I could've saved her.