What if?
What if this is my life, spending everyday trapped in my nightmares, deadly screams echoing through my head. Everyday will I be promised fear? Even though Panem is now in peace, I know that there will always be times for everyone where we look back and think that no matter how hard we try the games will always be part of our lives in some way, maybe we still live in the smallest bit of fear, maybe we live with relief of the safety from them, but we will always remember them. For me I see them daily as they haunt me in my sleep , sometimes even during the day. Images flash across my mind from the games, the rebellion, everything. This is one thing I'm sure will never ever fade, well maybe some of the memories will but the fear of them never will. I know I will forever fear the games. Why wouldn't I? Its what ruined my life in the first place. Its what started Everything......
What if?
What if I hadn't pulled out the berries? What if I hadn't threatened to commit suicide during the games? For what I ask myself, why did I attempt such a stupid idea and not even consider the consequences? Not to consider what power came with attempting that stupid act?
What if? What if? What if? What if all this never happened?
What if I had just eaten the berries in the arena and died?
I wish I did...
---
I sit curled up in my rocking chair staring at the flames dancing in the fire when I hear the door open and close a few seconds later. I continue to watch the flames when I hear footsteps approach the kitchen where I sit. I hear the person clear their voice obviously looking for me to look acknowledge that they are there. I know who it is but decide to glance back anyway. Haymitch of course is the one standing there his arms folded.
"Ran out of liquor have you?"
I say both harsh and hoarsely as my voice is so little used. He frowns slightly and leans up against the counter and says
"Yes but that's not why I'm here"
"Well it would be important if you decided to drag yourself over here wouldn't it?
I say to him drawing my attention back to the fire. I hear him sigh loudly
"Have you eaten?"
He asks. I almost laugh at the question. I haven't eaten in weeks other than a forced nibble of toast at times. He knows that by now. I just give him a simple shake of my head. For a minute there is just complete silence in the room, the only sound heard is the crackling of the fire beside me. I soon begin to feel his eyes burn at the back of my neck.
"Katniss"
He says sternly. I don't even twitch at the sound of my name nor do I turn to face him.
"Katniss!"
He says once more raising his voice. I whip my head around to look at him and yell back in the same tone with my hoarse voice
"What Haymitch?!"
He takes a moment to pause, like I did before saying quietly but not yet a whisper
"You can't go on like this"
This makes my blood boil with anger. I can do what I want, he doesn't know what it feels like to be drowning in fear and guilt. I want to join Prim. I yell at him with tears sitting in the corners of my eyes threatening to spill
"ITS NOT YOUR CHOICE HAYMITCH! I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!"
Haymitch says calmly
"I know how that feels Katniss but......."
This makes me feel almost a burst of flame within me. He does not know how it feels. I look into his eyes that seem layered in truth though I know a lie hides underneath. I begin to shake and a few tears flow down my cheeks as I say through gritted teeth
"You will never EVER understand how this feels..............The second you left that arena all you were given was nightmares and you chose to drown them in alcohol. You are a coward for that Haymitch and I know for one thing that you will never know how it feels to be wide awake instead of liquor running through your blood"
I spit the last few words at him. He seems hurt but then his pupils stay still as if they strengthen and he says slightly angry
"I may be a coward but I know how this feels Katniss. I went into the arena but unlike you my family was killed as soon as I got back. I am only trying to help you and it seems now I know I have to take extreme measures if you're not going to pick yourself up"
He turns and walks to the doorway to the hallway. Just before he walks through it he turns back and says his voice hard as stone
"Peeta will be here to "mind" you tomorrow. And I'll be back in an hour with your dinner again"
He says the sentences like he's talking to a 4 year old. After that he walks out the door and a few seconds later I hear it slam. I begin to feel the tears fall rapidly.
Peeta.
Peeta will be here tomorrow.
I begin to hyperventilate and soon find myself curled up in the coldest corner under the stairs and soon fall asleep with my forehead lying on the cold hard tiling.