I wake up to one more day. That's just how it is to me now, I'm completely lost.
I make a big effort to wake myself up but I'm too tired to try.
I don't think I can handle this anymore. I'm almost on the edge. No, I'm already there. I'm falling, about to reach the bottom. About to surrender, even more.
Everywhere I see I can see nothing but Katniss' strength that reminds me of him. In every corner, in every place, in Katniss' voice, in Prim's innocence. I see how Katniss fights for everything I don't.
Maybe once I even thought she did it for me, because she wanted me back. But it's clear enough now; Prim is the reason she fights for. The reason she stands up for.
I have no reasons left to stay alive, even though there are moments when I'm not sure if I am alive anymore.
"I'm going to the Hob." She says with some old Prim's baby clothes.
"You can't go on your own, it's too dangerous."
Katniss kept silent. I know she's doing it anyway. It's part of her audacity, what makes her unique. That fire that never turns off but either overwhelms. A really, really powerful fire, and I don't want to think what it would happen if it goes away.
"Katniss" Prim inhaled.
"I'll be back soon." She did nothing but looking down, as if she was admitting it was okay, even when she knew it wasn't, and sadly, she knew it. Her sweetness also implies maturity. That– that's her own fire, it's not real fire. It's more like a wind blowing peacefully. The wind that calms our fire. The wind that turns mine on.
"You can't go to the hob on your own" I insisted.
"Well, mom. Do you have any better idea?" She grabbed her stuff and slammed the door when she left.
I broke down crying again. It cannot be possible how my daughter hates me. Because It's true; she finds me repulsive, but I can't help it but being weak and breaking down. I'm made of paper.
What am I doing? I just sent my eleven–year–old daughter to the hob. Leaving her take the risks that should be my risks. I don't have the slightest idea of what I'm doing right now. I fight my instincts that are telling me to go get her right now. Get her and hug her like never before, to tell her that it's going to be okay, even knowing it's not. It hasn't been in so long and I can't remember how those times were like.
"Mom, will Katniss be okay?" Prim grabs my skirt.
"She can handle it by herself. Don't be worried, baby." I try to force a smile.
"But will she be okay?" For a minute, I couldn't think of answers to her question. I couldn't because I wasn't sure.
"I don't know" I say without thinking. I should have thought. But I don't remember how to do that anymore. I don't have the energies after all.
"Mom." Says Prim smiling.
"What is it, honey?"
"I love you" Those three words make my world tumble.
We were waiting for hours and hours until Katniss shows up with mud on her face, with her clothes wet and three buns of bread in her hand and the biggest smile I have seen in her beautiful lips.