as my new year's present to you... the next chapter! i'd just like to warn you that i haven't proofread this chapter at all and i typed it all in one go, so if it doesn't make sense/is horrible, sorry! also, happy new year's eve! and to those of you lucky enough to be on the other side of the world, happy new years! to celebrate the new year, my best friend abby and i are doing something special and awesome... i'll let you know when ... yeah. but yeah, i hope you enjoy this! also, i may not upload for a few days because i need to finish up the last minute homework for break that has been piling up :P procrastination sucks. so hang in there and don't kill me if i don't upload for awhile! x
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As she launches off into the story, I find myself struggling to keep my focus. Half of me wants to go to sleep, while the other half stares at Katniss, mesmerized by the twinkle in her eyes and the delicate way she moves her lips. I feel myself yearning to feel her lips on mine again, but I snap myself out of it as I hear her laugh, a beautiful, tinkling sound. Her words filter through my mind, a jumble of senseless words that my brain cannot comprehend because it is distracted by her beauty. Some may say that she looks savage right now, but I feel that her disheveled appearance just brings out her inner strength.
She tells me how she got some extra money buy selling her mother's old locket slowly, measuring every word and thinking it through before it slips out of her mouth. I scoff and roll my eyes, knowing that she is fooling no one. She's obviously lying and trying to hide the truth- that she earns money through poaching illegally. Everyone with a brain should have been able to figure that out by now. Of course, then again, I cannot be sure that the Capitol residents have a brain; they all just seem like mindless machines.
I am constantly distracted by the light of the flickering flames against her dark hair, bringing out a reddish-bronze tint I have never noticed before as my one-track mind struggles to keep up with her story. I feel like I'm listening to her from the wrong end of the telephone, and it is only then that I grasp the reality of how sick I am. I know that blood poisoning would lead inevitably to death, unless treated, but even now in its' early stages, my mind already feels muddled. Taking a deep breath, I tug at my consciousness and try to remain awake and I smile weakly. I don't need to worry Katniss even further.
She talks about how she bargained for an injured goat for ages, one with a raging infection in its shoulder, animatedly gesturing to emphasize the heated argument she had with the person we all know as "Goat Man." She wanted it to surprise her sister, and I am struck by her thoughtfulness. Not many people that I know would use their own money to buy such a precious gift, even for a loved one. When she finally bought the goat, she brought it home, with a pink ribbon tied to it and presented it to her weeping sister. I involuntarily smile as I picture this happening in my mind's eye, the poor, injured goat with a silly pink ribbon and the little blonde girl weeping with happiness.
As she talks about how her mother and Primrose tended to the goat, I am suddenly reminded of my situation. Katniss is like her mother, and I am like the goat, helpless and hopeless. She goes on about how her mother bustled around confidently, bandaging and disinfecting the injury and I smile. "She sounds a lot like you, Katniss."
Katniss looks up, startled, as if she forgot I was there. "No, they are so much more competent than me. That goat couldn't have died even if it tried." She suddenly bites her tongue and looks at me worriedly, as if scared she somehow offended me.
I roll my eyes. "Don't worry, I'm not trying. Finish the story."
She smiles happily to herself while telling me how much Primrose loved the goat and I find myself admiring her again. She does so much for her sister and loves her so much it touches my heart and I find myself yearning that she could somehow feel the same way about me.
"I can see why that story makes you happy," I say, jerking her out of her reverie.
"Well, I knew that goat would be a little gold mine," she says happily
"Yes, I was referring to its monetary value, not to the lasting happiness you gave to your sister," I roll my eyes sarcastically.
"Whatever. Besides, the goat has been a great asset. It's paid for itself many times," she says in a lofty tone, reaching for the bowl on the ground and wiping out the excess water.
I close my eyes and sigh, mumbling quietly. My head is teeming with thoughts that feel just out of my grasp. When I open my eyes again, Katniss is staring at me curiously. "Are you okay?" she asks. "You're not making sense." She scampers toward the entrance of the cave and I let out a sound of disbelief, somewhere in between a moan and a shriek. Is she trying to leave me? "I'm going to get some soup," she says, a wrinkle in between her eyebrows. I relax and mentally slap myself for my moment of paranoia.
As she reaches the entrance of the cave, Claudius Templesmith's voice breaks through the hazy midday air, inviting everyone to a feast. At the thought of more food, I groan, my stomach threatening to unload its contents, and Katniss rolls her eyes and waves her hand dismissively. She suddenly stops and cocks her head sideways to listen to the second part of the announcement. According to Templesmith, this isn't a feast for food; it is an offering of a needed item. I see the look of comprehension dawn upon Katniss's face almost immediately, but it takes me a few seconds for his words to sink in. There must be a strong healing medication waiting at the Cornucopia- something that will help me survive. Katniss is already halfway out the cave when I yell her name. She turns back to me, fire flashing in her eyes. "You can't go," I plead with her. The other tributes will be there too. Going there would be self-suicide, another opportunity to amuse the crowd with a bloodbath.
"I'm not going," she says flatly, her eyes shifting from side to side. "Do you think I'm an idiot? I wouldn't risk my life like that." I watch her eyes dart around the cave and scoff, a bit annoyed.
"You're lying. You're a horrible liar. Do me a favor and don't ever gamble; you'll be the first to lose." She frowns at me, offended, but I continue. "Don't go, please," I plead, trying to make my voice softer.
"You need it, Peeta," she says shortly. "You need the medicine."As I open my mouth, she cuts me off. "And don't try pretending that they don't have the medication there." She lowers her voice an octave, trying to imitate Claudius Templesmith. "'Every one of you needs something desperately. It will be there,' You and me both know that what they have there will help you survive."
My leg throbs painfully in the silence, and for a split second, I am tempted to let her leave. Anything to stop the pain and the sickness. But then I am horrified with myself, for being so selfish. I vowed to myself that I would keep her alive in the Games, and by letting her go, I would be breaking my promise. "Don't." I say sternly. "If you do, I'll drag myself out of this place and follow you."
A snarl is painted across her face as she whips around to look at me once more. Then, to my surprise, she sighs and her face falls, leaving an expression of tenderness and vulnerability. As soon as it comes, it's gone as she snaps at me. "Fine, but you have to do whatever I say."
I nod quickly, making my head throb, and she throws me some pills. "Eat these," she says. "They'll help your fever. I'm going to get the soup."
I obediently tip my head back and swallow the pills, forcing them past the lump in my throat. They do nothing for me, though, as my mind becomes even more confused than before, like a muggy bog filled with homeless thoughts. I can hardly think straight and only manage to jerk myself awake from my lethargic stupor when she comes in.
She is quiet as she serves the soup, her mind preoccupied. As I look at her, I know I made the right decision in not letting her go. I can't afford to let her get hurt in exchange for some comfort for me. I force down the scalding soup, barely registering the taste and clattering the spoon against the bowl as loudly as I can. The silence in between us is tense and uncomfortable and I try to make her smile but pretending to enjoy the soup. An amused look comes to her face as I lick the bowl, but it is quickly replaced with a scowl.
Finally, she huffs and strides outside. "I need some fresh air," she says sourly before striding out the entrance.
"Wait-"
She cuts across me before I finish the sentence. "I'm not going to the feast," she says, almost wearily."
For some reason, I trust that she isn't lying, and I help myself down into the sleeping bag. Even though it is only afternoon, the events of today have made me not only mentally, but physically tired. Katniss comes pattering in not soon after, her eyes worriedly scanning the cave until they land on me.
"I found some berries," she says cheerfully, although I can detect a tinge of sadness behind her facade. I know it's killing her to not go to the feast, but it's for her own safety. She uses the spoon to mash up the berries and she feeds it to me, spoonful by spoonful.
At first, I let it dribble out of my mouth, for the mere thought of eating makes me sick. However, this food is so addicting that I obediently open my mouth for the second spoonful. It tastes like home, like something slightly familiar. Katniss calls them sugar berries, something I've never heard of. Perhaps I've had them once or twice? The taste is overwhelmingly sweet, though not in a bad way. "It's so sweet," I say lazily, my mind content. "Almost like..." I struggle to find the right word to describe the gooey consistency of this mush. "-like syrup," I say drowsily, the last word barely a whisper on my lips.
Suddenly, I'm struck with the realization. This is like syrup- sleep syrup! It's something I've been fed a lot back at home whenever I'm sick. I feel like throwing up when I realize what Katniss intends to do once I'm asleep- run off to the feast. I gag in my throat, trying to throw up what's in my mouth, but Katniss has my mouth in a tight grasp, forcing me to swallow. She brushes a berry off my cheek and looks into my drooping eyes sorrowfully,
I want to tell her to stop, to cry, to plead with her, but I'm too tired. I want to scream, but it's too late. I fall into darkness.
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no, he's not going to have another dream sequence,. i think he's had enough of those :P
also, i said i'd upload the old cover for those of you that wanted to see so it's here on the side :D it's obviously not supposed to be that fat xD
now i'm off to sleep before the new year's party! woot :D
xox amanda