Disclaimer: The characters are from Suzanne Collins's The MockingJay.

I am the over-pretective older sister. This part of the book left a mark on me.

Katniss POV. Spolier alert!

Year 1

A year ago today, she woke with a beating heart and before the sun had set, not even that was left.

This has been a hard year. She was always here…and now she's not. It was the first time she missed Christmas, and the flowers in the field, and her birthday…

I can't do this without her. I thought today would be easier. Always in the back of my mind, I had told myself that if I could just make it through the first year, then it would get easier, but the idea of doing this all over again…is unthinkable.

Year 2

It's like reliving a nightmare: the worst, drawn-out nightmare of my life. But no matter how hard I try, I can't wake up.

Knowing what to expect…doesn't make it any easier. The whole scale of what I've lost is unimaginable.

How could she be gone? She was everything. She was the start and the end. I can still hear, crisp and clear as ever, Effie calling her name in the reaping. My life started over at the sound of her name and her's ended before she could even say mine. She was the start of the road to the Capitol's destruction and with her death, she solidified its downfall. Through it all she kept me going, to keep her safe. She was so much… I can't believe she's gone.

Years 3-5

I believe life can go on, no matter how bad its losses, but if that's true, why aren't I moving forward? Why do I feel stuck in the same miserable cycle?

I never expected the world to be fair, but nor did I think it would be so cruel. She was my most precious thing, my light in the darkness, and all I am left with is the after image burned into my retina, blinding me from seeing a world without her.

My wounds are still raw, festering instead of healing. I know it should only be a matter of time, but I don't think there will ever be enough to make me whole again.

Years 5-8

I do feel a numbness beginning. It wipes away my thoughts and glazes over my pain. It lets me function: go through my cycle without disruption. But is this what I'm doomed to bear instead of the memory of my sister: a dull throb? It doesn't equate to my loss. It can't replace what could have been.

I would give anything to have her back. Anything…

Years 8-12

It's been so long, I'm scared I've forgotten what she looked like. Is the image I have a true representation? Or has it become faded and scratched over the years?

The numbness came in full, but even that I feel is beginning to leave me. I'm not ready. I still miss her. I miss her smile, and the way she loved that stupid cat, and her duck tail… I know that I have to go on without her, but I don't want to...not yet.

On her tenth anniversary, Peeta tried to convince me to "move on," saying she wouldn't have wanted me to keep suffering and to keep from progressing. But that brought it all back—all of the pain and anger ripping open the newly closing injuries. He didn't know what she wanted. I did. She wanted to be a doctor, wanted to help people, but now she can't because…because she's gone. I was so distraught that I went outside and bloodied my hands ripping all of the roses off of the bush. If she couldn't live, then neither could they, and the physical pain gave me something to focus on other than my thoughts. I ran off to spend the rest of the day in the woods, so I could clear my head and recall memories of her in solitude. I've been going to the woods for this day ever since, waking up early in the morning and not coming back until the next day, so I can spend the entire time alone with my memories of her. I've started to allow myself to remember the times when we were happy, but even those are tainted with the knowledge that they're the only ones we'll ever have. I don't know how to start over without her, how to smile or laugh at something she will never know.

Year 13

It's been thirteen years since that day. A lifetime—her lifetime. She'd be twenty-six now, if it hadn't been for that fire. I can still close my eyes and picture it. I can see the mountainous wall of flames, lighting her as a silhouette. Then I feel the heat, the inferno singeing off my feathers in my attempt to take flight. I burn. Blinding pain my only share in her passing. I still have the scars, patchworks of skin. The marks of my survival, marks I don't share with her.

Thirteen years I've been going without her. Thirteen years and I haven't forgotten. I can't let her be forgotten.

But this year is different. This time I'm pregnant. I don't know how I let Peeta talk me into it. It's the first step toward starting my new life, my life without her. And I'm scared. I can feel this new person in me, ignorant of how wrong the world is; unknowing of the aunt they will never meet. Is this what will shove me into the future, where I won't be able to remember the past? How can I raise this child untainted without letting go of the ones that mean so much to me?

How can I find joy in anything knowing all of the terrible sorrows and horrors I've experienced? If I choose to be happy, does that mean I forget her? And of all the others I've lost? I swore that I would never again be able to feel pleasure, but surely I have to find some good in this life within me, in this flesh of my flesh. If not for my benefit, then for theirs. I have to have been mistaken. Can my child grow up never knowing their mother's smile…?

No, but neither will they grow up never knowing their mother's screams and tears. They will know of the sacrifices made. They will know of the world left behind. They will not forget. And they will be all the stronger for it.

I found the start of this story in the back of my journal from a couple years ago and I made up my mind to finish it. It didn't quite go where I wanted it to, but it's decent enough. I tried to keep as much of my orginal as possible, but had to cut it up and spread it around, sorry if some places don't flow.

The main focus I wanted to have was the question of if we choose to be happy, do we forget what we've lost? I would love to hear any thoughts on that or anything else you have to say about the piece. Is this believable for Katniss? Does the lack of names work?

Reviews lead to better writing. Thank you in advance for your comments!

(And if you guys liked Hunger Games you should read Legend by Marie Lu! It's a great dystopian romance thriller and no knows about it. If it doesn't get read, it will go away :( ...)