A/N: Hey guys! Some of you may recognize this title! I wrote a fic like this one a while back, but gave up on it. Well, I completely revamped and plan on continuing! Katniss's POV.
Reviews would be wonderful! Tell me what you think. I'll be more likely to continue if this is actually successful! Haha! Enjoy :)
I sit on the white oak bench enclosed by book cases. The perfect summer scene of the meadow looks unreal. Wild flowers blooming, bees buzzing about; the sun is setting and the air smells sweet like honey suckle. The girl with the red ribbons in her runs around the meadow with her brother. Twelve and thirteen. Innocent. Naïve. The ribbons dance around her flowing hair. My daughter and my son.
For once in my life I can say I'm truly happy.
For me, happiness has been hard to come by. It's difficult to wake up in the morning and not know who will still be alive when you drift to sleep that night. It's difficult to envision them now, who they could be, what they could do. It's difficult to shed tears of remembrance, to mourn. My father…Prim. It's difficult to know that you had no control. You can't pick your fate, or anyone else's of that matter, you can simply sit on the sidelines and watch as the game unfolds before your eyes.
"Katniss?"
The boy with the bread appears from around the corner, leaning on the door frame holding a basket of bread. It's warm. He sees a tear glide across my smooth cheek. He wipes it away and kisses me as he takes a seat adjacent to me on the bench. He doesn't have to ask me what's wrong or assure me that everything will be fine. It's Peeta. He knows. I force a smile as he helps me up. It would be a lie to say I'm mentally well. Only half of my family stands to this day, doctors have flat out told me that metal effects caused by my experiences will never be repaired, no medicine can work to erase the painful images District 12 burning, the last time I saw the innocent, careful girl with the blonde braid steadily at work, Rue dying right before my eyes. Reaping after reaping and games after games, continuing on tomorrow as District 12 will, for the 89th time, gather in front of the justice building. Parents praying for their child's fate and children crossing their fingers. I carry the basket of bread to the dinner table as Peeta calls in Lara and Tanner from outside. We sit and we eat and we make small chatter, the nervousness in the air makes this obvious. Lara's first reaping is tomorrow and she is scared to death. Three slips will bear my children's names. Three slips in thousands. But of course the odds have certainly never really been in my favor. It takes me a moment to realize that no one has actually touched their food. Peeta and I start to clean the kitchen as Lara and Tanner scuttle up the stairs and get ready for bed. As I scrub down the pots, I can't help but think about the reaping. I was nervous yes, but never for myself. I always had someone else to worry about first before visualizing myself in an arena. Perhaps I should have thought that through more carefully.
I prepare for bed by brushing out my braid and dressing in my nightclothes. I plant a kiss on the Lara and Tanner's foreheads, laying their reaping clothes out before returning to my room and doing the same. From down the hallway I hear soft sobs from Lara's room. Seeing her so distressed almost brings me to tears. I try to comfort her. It's dark, and among her cries and blonde hair I feel as if I'm holding Prim. Comforting her the same way I did to my sister so many years ago. Shhhhhhhhhh. I sing.
Just close your eyes
The sun is going down
You'll be alright
No one can hurt you now
Come morning light
You and I'll be safe and sound
When I finished the strained cries are silenced and I know she is asleep.
I return to my room and lay in bed, consumed by my thoughts. Peeta and I barely talk. He knows I have a lot on my mind and he's a lot on his. I doze off, half haunted by a nightmare from the arena but then comforted by Peeta. After all these years, nothing has changed.
I wake the next morning to light streaming in through the window. The other side of the bed is cold. I inhale, bread is cooking downstairs. I hear Tanner laugh and can feel Peeta's smile when I remember that today is the reaping.
I fill my stomach with warm bread. I dress. I wipe Lara's tears as I braid her hair. Peeta and I join hands. Tanner gives me his ordinarily cocky smile, and I know he hasn't a fear in the world. United, we march towards the crowd. Families come from all directions. Only we come alone. Well, us and Haymitch. Still, the only ones who inhabit the homes of Victor's Village.
An almost carbon copy of Effie toddles across the stage in unreasonably high heels. Marnyx, is her name. She drones on and on flashing a surgically altered smile and giggling every now and then. She wobbles to the girl's reaping ball and I clutch Lara's hands. So many slips are in that ball. For a slight moment, I stop worrying.
But then that moment ends.
Lara Mellark is the name on the slip.
