The Hanging Tree
Prologue
I stumbled into a dark forest with trees surrounding me. The only source of light was the thin strips of moonlight that fought through the tightly packed foliage. The snap of a twig sparked a reaction and I started to run. My feet snagged on tree roots which grew around me, teasing my ankles by wrapping around them with hard fingers. The mossy floor beneath me began to morph, until I was looking into an empty black pit. The darkness made my stomach turn and I tried to run, but my feet were stuck. Defeating shouts, horrifying screams and forbidding laughs emitted from the very depths of the chasm. Tears were now pouring down my face as a sudden pull of force dragged me towards the entrance. I gripped the ground, but my fingers fell into inky black liquid. I lost all grip on the ground and I tumbled into the pit. Other people started falling with me, their faces twisted and distorted, but not enough so as I couldn’t tell who they were. There was Prim, her delicate features burned and scarred. A sharp pain in my arm made me whip my head to the left where I was met with an awful sight. Cinna, blinded by his awful beating; prodding the darkness hoping to find something to cling to. A small cry made me force my head up. In front of me was Finnick. His toned, beautiful body had holes in it, and his seductive green eyes were ripped from his head. But it didn’t stop salty tears from dripping down into his arms, which were rocking back and forth. As if he was cradling a baby.
I managed to twist away from them but I was greeted with more bodies careering towards me. Finnick, Cato, Glimmer, Thresh, Marvel, Seneca, Plutarch, Finnick, Rue, Boggs, Legg 1, Legg 2. The bodies just kept coming. Everyone who had died because of me, because of my stupid decisions, was hurtling towards me. Suddenly a high pitched bark came from above me. I looked up, through the gaps in the bodies, and saw a mutt. Its brown fur was matted with something black and sticky, it’s eyes… Eyes that had once smiled at me, were warped beyond recognition. I shut my eyes tight and shoved my hands over my ears and allowed myself to scream.
‘Stop, stop!’ I shrieked.
‘Katniss, honey, it’s a dream. That’s all it is.’ Peeta’s soothing whisper broke through my nightmares. The fragmented images in my imagination shattered and I found myself in my own bedroom. Tears blurred my vision but I could feel Peeta’s arms around me, holding me tight. I sniffed and tried to wipe the images from my mind, unsuccessfully. Concentrate on Peeta, I told myself. But for once it didn’t comfort me. It didn’t give me the feeling of security it usually did. His arms made me feel trapped like a bird in a cage, stuck, vulnerable and scared.
‘Mum?’ A small voice whispered from the doorway. There stood my little boy, his grey eyes worried about his mother’s sanity. I tried to stop crying for his sake but for once the nightmares had taunted me to reality. I squeezed my eyes shut trying to force the dreams and horrors from my mind. But all I saw was Rue, the little girl who was so young, who had her whole life ripped out from under her with the quick flick of a wrist. Or Cato and Clove; the real star-crossed lovers, the way Clove had looked at Cato. It reminded me of how Annie looked at Finnick. Finnick, dear Finnick. He died following my idiotic plan, knowing it was false and yet still taking the risk for me. His life was finally turning around, with a beautiful, albeit, slightly dysfunctional wife who was pregnant with a beautiful baby boy, whom he would never have the chance to meet. Finnick Odair was the bravest, most charming young man I had ever had the pleasure of meeting. I hope my own son can live up to his name.
‘Move aside Finnick.’ There was my beautiful daughter Prim. Her long brown hair spilled over her shoulders, and her blue eyes shone with determination and strength. I was glad to see innocence in there too, because otherwise her eyes would have been a perfect match to my little sister’s.
My daughter had a clumsy way of never tucking in her shirts very well. Every time I saw the tail that trailed out the back of her skirts, I felt a pang. A wrench that seemed to lessen each time it pulled my heart.
She came and sat on the edge of the bed looking at me with wide eyes. Prim was 13 and still so young. She understood more than she should, more than any child should. Finnick was 10 and had begun understanding why my past life haunted me. I tried not to speak about it, but at that age he had so many questions that all seemed to revolve around the same thing: ‘why are you always sad?’
‘It’s not your fault Mum. I know you can’t forget, Uncle Haymitch explained why but please be strong. It hurts me when you cry.’ She whispered in my ear. She sounded so much like Prim, so mature, like she had lived a thousand lifetimes but still managed to be young and vulnerable. A last sob racked my body and I looked up at my husband who let me go tenderly. I gestured for Finnick to come onto the bed but he seemed wary. Peeta got up and picked him up, struggling a little under his weight. He laid Finnick down on the large double bed and I tried to reach for the covers. When I couldn’t find them I looked at the floor and realised that I had kicked them off in my struggle for normality. I decided to leave that idea and I hugged both my children.
‘I’m sorry for scaring you.’ I avoided looking at them and instead looked out of the window opposite the bed. The sun was streaming through the window but softly so I could tell it was early morning. The daylight reflected of the startlingly white door of our bathroom. District 12 had been rebuilt with special instructions from President Paylor. Our house was simple but by far the largest. It had three bedrooms, three bathrooms, a living room, a dining room and a kitchen. Each of the rooms was fairly large but not echoing and empty. Not like my old house in the Victor’s Village, which I had demanded be knocked down. I walked over to the window, untangling my arms from my children. I walked barefoot through the soft carpet and threw open the window. I needed some fresh air so I stuck my head out and sniffed. The sweet, sickly smell of roses filled my nose making me gag. Memories flooded back to me.
Calm down Katniss. He’s dead. He can’t hurt you. Snow is dead. A frantic voice at the back of my mind squealed. I looked down at the street below and saw a cart full of roses. Someone was taunting me. But then I saw the owner of the cart whistling on the other side of the road. It was no one I knew; just a rose seller trying to make his living. He looked up, saw me and gave me a tired smile. I tried to smile back, but my lips were immobile.
‘Katniss…’ Peeta asked gently. I realised that I had been holding in my breath and I let it out in a long sigh.
‘Get ready for school.’ I told my children firmly. They both looked at me wondering how I could go from a crying, weak little girl to a strict mother. ‘Now,’ I repeated, and they scurried off.
For the nine months that my children were in my stomach a pain had grown inside me, a bitter seed full of hate and despair. How come these two people whom I had never met were allowed to be born when so many of my friends and loved ones had died? I walked back to the bed my head bent low before realising just how tidy the room was. Yesterday it was covered in dirty clothes and Finnick’s toys and Prim’s books. Now the floor was spotless.
‘Are you ok?’ Peeta asked concern etching his face. I gently stroked his cheek and he took that as a yes. He took my hand and kissed my fingers.
‘I’ll go check on Finnick and Prim. To see if they haven’t killed each other yet.’ I winced. Bad choice of words from me, way to go Katniss! I said mentally slapping myself. Peeta nodded, and let go of my fingers.
I walked out of the room and into the dark hallway. I flicked on the light and it blinked into existence, glancing at the mirror as I walked the short way to Prim’s room. My eyes were blood-shot from tears and my face was filled with worry. My mouth was turned down in an unattractive pout. For a second I let myself remember a time when I had been carefree and happy. The only time I could remember was in the woods with Gale. Before the Games manipulated and twisted us. When Prim was alive. And now I was haunted by nightmares and my children had to witness their mother broken and in tears, almost every day.
I had sworn to myself that if I ever had children, I was not to be like my own mother. But I had turned out just like her, tuning out every so often, replaying horrors that no one should have lived.
It had been 25 years but not a single second went by when I didn’t remember.
‘Can you braid my hair like yours?’ Prim asked when I entered her room. The soft pink wallpaper shone lightly from the reflected light and her single bed was messy, and clothes littered the floor. When she came home from school I would nag her to clean it. For now, my nightmares and memory’s had drained me.
‘Sure thing sweetie,’ I said grabbing her hairbrush from her hands and brushing her thick brown waves. Her hair felt soft under my fingertips and as I plaited it I could feel myself slipping into calm.
‘Mum?’
‘Uh huh,’ I said not really listening.
‘Miss. Harkua was wondering whether you could come and talk to my class.’ My daughter said all in a rush. I tied the end of her hair with a hair tie and turned her so she could face me. I had my hands on her shoulders but I wasn’t looking at her,
‘About what, darling?’ But I already knew the answer,
‘The Hunger Games.’ Those three words were enough to make my heartbeat quicken. ‘I said I doubted you would.’ Prim whispered. I just continued to try keeping my heart under control while I gazed out behind her. ‘Sorry I asked.’ She exclaimed after a silence went by and wriggled out from my grip. She ran downstairs and I wanted to call after her but I couldn’t.
I looked up, sighing. I had yet again forced a crack into our relationship. I started to leave but was stopped by a picture of my family. Little Prim had a framed photo of us on her bedside table. I picked it up and smiled a little. Prim and Finnick were sitting on a stone bench grinning into the camera with me in between then. Behind them was Peeta lying flat out so all you can see is his face peeking out from our kid’s bodies. He was pulling a funny face with his tongue lolling out and his eyes crossed. Then there was me with my arms around our children laughing at my silly husband. Behind us I catch a glimpse of Annie’s dark hair and Ollie her son. She stated that she couldn’t name her son Finnick. It would bring back too many painful memories. And so she gave me her blessing to name my second child Finnick.
I remember the day of the picture perfectly. That was one of the days I was happy, one of the days where I never once asked myself if it was ‘real or not real?’
We had found a small park and played there all day, Finnick, Prim and Ollie playing a game of crazy cat with Buttercup, who, through everything, had survived and became quite a companion. Prim would never believe it if she saw Buttercup and I getting along.
For once Haymitch had joined us. It was one of his rare visits out of that manky old flat of his. For once my mind was clear. But it didn’t last long. I remember how fragile it was. And poor Annie couldn’t help it. It wasn’t her fault. She slipped into her own world like she had done so many times before. I knew immediately something was wrong when her dark green eyes turned a dark grey and screams escaped her lips. Screams that could turn your blood cold.
I had started to shake her frantically and Haymitch and Peeta had to use their joined strength to push me of her.
‘Annie! Stop screaming! STOP SCREAMING!’ I had sobbed. At this time Ollie was about 16 and used to his Mother’s little spells. He pushed us out of the way and started whispering to his Mother. Soon enough Annie came to but the one word she said scared me more than anything.
‘Katniss’ and it sounded so uncannily like the mutts that had killed her husband that I started to cry.
‘Mum?’ A voice said from the doorway. There was Finn looking at me staring intently at a photo frame. ‘Are you ok?’
‘Just fine Finn, just fine. Come on let’s get breakfast.’ I said holding out my hand, quickly brushing away any stray tears. He took it and together we walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Prim and Peeta were already sitting at the small table laughing at some unknown joke. Prim had a bowl of cereal in front of her and Peeta was sipping a cup of coffee. I sat Finnick down at the table and put some toast in the toaster. I leaned back against the kitchen counter listening to my family talk.
‘-Yeah but if school never existed nobody would be clever so I wouldn’t matter.’ Prim said glaring at her Dad.
‘But if there was no school you wouldn’t know anything at all! You’d be like that girl you don’t like. The blonde, Holly isn’t it? You said she was as thick as a house and she had nothing in her head.’ Peeta replied.
‘Dad! I wouldn’t turn out like that. I have my good looks and my charm to get me through life.’ Prim said flipping her hair and batting her eyelashes. I rolled my eyes.
‘I don’t like school either!’ Finnick butted in, trying to join in the conversation that his older sister was having.
‘Finn, you and me should stop school. Then we can prove that we don’t need education.’ Prim said her eyes glinting evilly; knowing her little brother would take it seriously.
‘YAY,’ Finnick cried and started to dance around the kitchen. Peeta chuckled and sipped his coffee. I rolled my eyes, again, but couldn’t help suppressing a grin.
‘Here’s your toast crazy boy.’ I said laying down a plate on the table stacked with toast. Peeta pulled me towards him just as I turned and he kissed me firmly on the lips. His lips were soft and a tingle went down my spine.
‘Jeez guys! Save it for the bedroom.’ Prim cried. We broke apart and I grabbed a tea towel that was drying on the stove.
‘Shush you!’ I said whipping her with the tea towel. It hit her gently but Prim had a tendency to overreact. She began rolling on the floor pretending she was in agony. Finnick was still dancing around but Peeta caught him and made him eat his breakfast. He and Peeta started to get into an animated conversation about bread. I smiled at the chaos in my kitchen. It felt as if this morning was completely forgotten and for that at least, I was grateful. I glanced at the clock that was mounted onto the far wall. 8:43. School started at nine but the teachers wanted the kids there early.
‘SCHOOL! LET’S GO! Prim up of the floor, put your stuff in the dishwasher and get your shoes on.’ I hollered at my daughter who was still on the floor. She groaned but did as she was told stomping out of the kitchen sarcastically. Finnick quickly gobbled up the last of his toast and rushed off to find his sister.
‘Can you clean up?’ I asked Peeta.
‘Sure.’ He said draining his cup and getting up.
‘Thanks.’ I said before giving him a quick kiss.
‘LET ME GO!’ Finnick’s voice echoed through the house. I rolled my eyes putting on my strictest face. I walked into the hallway to find Prim sitting on top of her brother.
‘Prim.’ I cried exasperated. ‘Get off your brother. And get ready! You’re going to be late!’ She bobbed up and down once just to make Finnick cry for help a bit more.
‘PRIM!’ I yelled. She got off rolling her eyes. Her shoes were already on and she grabbed her bag all ready to leave. ‘Wait for your brother!’ I cried. She had been taking Finnick to school for 6 years and still she forgot. She sighed loudly but quickly shut up when I glared at her. Finnick got his shoes and stuff on and rushed out of the house his bag hitting his scrawny knees. Prim had rushed on ahead laughing hysterically and shouting,
‘CATCH ME IF YOU CAN!’ Which meant Finnick went charging after her. A small chuckle behind me made me turn around.
‘They are very… What’s the word?’ Peeta laughed.
‘Crazy?’ I suggested.
‘Yeah, crazy,’ Peeta laughed pulling me into a hug. He hugged me fiercely and I hugged back just as hard. Suddenly I felt his smile fall from his face. He whispered something in my ear,
‘I love you Katniss, you know that, you know that, right?’
‘Well, yeah… Obviously, what-‘
‘Turn around.’
I turned and saw a young man, virtually unchanged. He was walking up to my house, his expression solemn and stricken. The way he moved made hundreds of memories flood back to me. My breath caught in my throat.
‘Gale?’
My heart sunk to the bottom of my stomach. Why was Gale here? In District 12? I was certain he had forgotten me and all of our past. Suddenly I was transported to the woods, free and happy with my best friend and hunting partner at my side, telling me all about snares and pointing out that the only time he had ever seen me smile was in the woods. Of course the Capitol had managed to influence that relationship as well. I had been so sure that our friendship ran deep and strong but I couldn’t have been more wrong. I knew after a while that the Games had transformed everything, including me. Especially me. I would never admit it to anyone but after the Games, my heart hardened, my temper boiled high and I swore never to love anyone again. Peeta had reformed that idea but he had changed just as much as me, if not more. The Capitol made sure of that. He would have his spells just like Annie, where he seemed to forget where he was and the hate the Capitol had planted inside him would come rushing out. I had to play ‘Real or not real?’ with him for about an hour before he’d cool down and become himself again. Those times scared me like no other. His eyes would become diluted and his face scrunched up. More than once he would call me cruel names and mock and taunt me. My heart was filled with pain whenever he did.
I looked up at the young man before me, his handsome features standing out. He looked like he had come fresh from the seam. But the seam was no longer. The Capitol had destroyed the only connection I had with my little sister and the rest of my district.
‘Can I come inside?’ Gale asked quietly.
‘Yeah, sorry, sure,’ I mumbled looking past him. Haymitch stood there, a bottle of liquor in his hand and geese swarming around his feet. His face was troubled. But I ignored it, just like he ignored me. I shut the door behind Gale and walked into the kitchen as if in a trance. Peeta was sitting there after having left the moment he saw the young man walking towards our home.
‘Hello Peeta.’ Gale whispered.
‘Gale.’ Peeta said nodding at him. The tension between the two was strong.
‘Peeta can you please grab my dressing gown from the bedroom?’ I asked him sweetly.
‘I’d rather stay here, thank you darling.’ Peeta said emphasising the last word. I sighed inwardly; this was going to be a long visit.
‘What’s the matter Gale? Why are you here?’ Peeta asked him and I saw his face grow angry. Keep your cool Peeta, keep your cool, I prayed.
‘Katniss, I have some bad news.’ Gale turned to me blatantly ignoring Peeta’s question.
‘What bad news?’ I asked my heart quickening. I’d had enough bad news to last a lifetime.
‘Maybe now isn’t the right time.’ Gale said studying my face. That was one thing the Capitol hadn’t managed to change, the ability to read the others emotions, and for once I hated that. Gale had betrayed me, left me; he didn’t deserve to know me better than I know myself.
I walked towards him with my finger outstretched and I began to speak to him like I spoke to Finnick when he was in trouble.
‘Gale Hawthorne, tell me right now.’ I demanded.
I was now nose to nose with Gale and I was looking straight into the stormy grey eyes that bought back many memories. He caught my gaze but looked away and walked back, away from me.
‘Your mother died Katniss.’ Gale’s voice was soft and slow and for a second I didn’t grasp what he was telling me. ‘She told me to give you this.’ Gale handed me an envelope. On the front in sloppy blue handwriting was: My darling daughter Katniss Everdeen. District 12
‘I’m very sorry Katniss.’ Gale said. He gave Peeta curt nod and whispered, ‘I’m glad you’re happy,’ before walking out of the house leaving me holding a letter in my hand and no tears coming out of my eyes. Why wasn’t I crying? Why wasn’t I grieving? My mother had just died and I felt… nothing. Peeta must have thought differently because he came up behind me and hugged me tight.
‘Gale, I…’ I started until I realised that he had left, without any other news of his own well-being. He came for me, and solely for me. He could have just as easily sent me the letter through the post, but he came to visit.
‘It’s going to be alright.’ He whispered into my hair.
‘I know.’ My answer surprised him, as it should. It surprised me.
‘Come sit.’ He took my hand and led me to the table. I looked down at the envelope in my hand and I gently opened it. Inside was a folded piece of paper. When I unfolded it two things feel out, a Katniss root and a yellow Primrose. A small smile crept onto my lips, as I gently stroked the Primrose.
Then I began to read.
Dear my darling eldest daughter Katniss,
I’m so sorry, for everything. For making you look after Primrose because I feel into a cruel happiness that ripped me away from my beautiful daughter’s. It should have been me. I should have been the one to look after Prim, to feed her, to bathe her, to do everything you did.
I understand if you still hate me but the moment Primrose’s name was called out on that fateful day, I knew that nothing was ever going to be the same. However I never thought it would be so significant as to be forever recorded in history books.
When you volunteered and I couldn’t do anything. Do you know how that felt? How terrible it was. I felt so useless and I knew that you could so easily die hating me and hating what I did. The weeks went by seeing you survive and I was so proud and yet sickened by the Capitol. How could they force 24 kids kill each other? But my darling Katniss you survived and I let out a breath that had been catching in my throat since you called out those 4 words at the reaping. The dead tributes; that could have easily been you but that it wasn’t and I thank God every night that it wasn’t.
I hope you know how happy I am to leave this world. It may sound awful but I need to see your Father again and Primrose. But I am also sorry how I just left without a second thought to you. You are now alone but I never meant that to happen.
I heard you have two beautiful children, Prim and Finnick. Is that right? I wish I could have been a better grandmother to them. I wish I could have been a better Mother to you. That is my one regret.
Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire, the Mockingjay. You are all mine. And I am so proud of you for everything you have done. You are my daughter and I will never forget you. Goodbye for now my dear. I hope we can meet again.
I love you.
Mother.
A smile played across my face and a single happy tear slid down my cheek. I had been waiting for this letter all my life, for my Mother to apologise. And now I understood her reasons. When Prim died I fell into depression. You find that it’s easier than facing the world that they can no longer live in. I understood and I forgave her.
‘I love you too Mum. I always did. I’m sorry I argued and shouted. I should have known better. Tell Prim and Daddy how much we missed them. Tell them how much I love them. Tell them how I wish they had stayed but that I hope they are happy.’ I whispered into the sky. I pray she heard me because I meant it. Every single word.