A/N: HELLO! This is the second installment of the "What If" series! It's been over a year since I wrapped the first one, and if you haven't read it I urge you to. I know I've been gone for awhile, but I've recently suffered two family deaths and haven't had much inspiration. But now I'm back, and hoping to retrieve some of what I've lost. Any feedback means the world to me. (As for the first story, if you can work through the grammatical issues, I promise it's worth it.) Anyways, I meant for this Author's Note to be short and sweet. Oh well. I hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. But that would be awesome if I did, right?
Four weeks. One Month. Thirty one days. It doesn't matter how I say it. The gut wrenching feeling tearing me from the inside out never goes away. I try. Really, I do. But every waking- and sleeping- moment only reminds of the fact that I'm still here, and they're not.
Katniss. Where is she right now? Is she scared? Is she even alive? The worst part is that I don't know. Beetee has tried, impossibly hard, to get us online with the Capital, but each attempt ends the same way- with failure. I used to have hope, but the resounding static (and finally blackness) that filled the monitors and headsets have left me empty inside.
Finnick and Johanna try to keep my spirits up, usually to no avail. It's easy for them to feel fulfilled when they have the people they care about right here with them. Annie arrived safely, and Henry was retrieved with Johanna. They each have rooms on either side of the one I share with my mother. Sometimes I forget that I even have a roommate at all. She spends all her time in the hospital helping to care for the sick and injured.
This leaves me alone at night. Sometimes Rory slips out of his compartment across the hall. If Hazelle knows, she doesn't say anything about it. She knows we don't do anything. He just lies next to me beneath the covers, protecting me from nightmares when I fall asleep and safeguarding my thoughts when I can't.
Most nights, we just lie awake in the darkness. Sometimes we can hear the bed from next door banging against the thin walls. I try to pretend I don't know what Finnick and Annie are doing. Then I try to convince myself that I'm happy for them. But I'm not. I'm not happy for anyone.
Rory tries to make jokes about it. "Maybe a child will raise the spirits in this place!" I know he feels just as empty as me. Gale is gone, who knows where. Probably suffering, if he's even alive. At this point, his life at the mercy of Snow, it would be better if he were dead. But that selfish part of me refuses to want this. I need them to be alive. For me.
Life underground is so routine. Peaceful, even. I don't dare leave the bunker. Whatever's outside these walls is Hell. And I've been there enough times to know that I don't want to go back. I wake one morning, eyes rimmed red from tears, throat ripped raw by screams, tangled in Rory's arms. He sleeps soundly against my shoulder, his soft snores reverberating through the empty compartment.
I close my eyes and wrap my arms tighter around his sleeping form as the date dawns on me. He's leaving today. For District Twelve. I was offered the opportunity to go, but my mother advised that I refuse it. For once, I decided that maybe she was right. Rory, on the other hand, was eager to go back. He needed to see it, one final time. Me? I've seen enough destruction to last a lifetime.
I'm glad Rory is getting the closure he need. But that selfish part of me, rearing its ugly head once more, wants to keep him here where I can see him. Touch him. Even kiss him if I feel the desire. What if he doesn't come back? If Snow takes him, like he took Rue and Clove. Gale and Katniss.
I don't think I could handle it. He's all I have left. My sanity. My Rory. Under any other circumstances, my mother would tell me nearly fourteen is too young to be in love. But she knows better. This is just different. Sometimes it seems as though he's all I have left.
I press a soft kiss to his dark, bang covered forehead and he stirs gently beside me. His shiny silver eyes flutter open lightly, "S'it morning?" His hold on me tightens, almost as though he half expects me to be having a nightmare. We don't have any windows in our room. There's no way to tell what time of day it is without the clock.
"Yes. And the hovercraft leaves in an hour. Get up, go get some breakfast. I'll go with you." This perks him up right away, as I've made it a habit of mine to skip meals. I should know better, having felt the terrible pangs of starvation more than once, but I can't help it. My appetite has vanished.
By the time we've both dressed and eaten, he has fifteen minutes. We nearly run to the hangar. Well, he runs, and I'm dragged along by the wrist. Boggs, President Coin's go to man, is waiting when we arrive. "Hawthorne. Everdeen." He nods briskly. "You have five minutes. Then it's take off."
With that, he climbs into the hovercraft. Rory turns to face me, his grip on my hand tightening slightly. "I'll see you when I get back, Prim." I nod shakily at him, doing my best to hold back tears. I've grown too strong for crying, haven't I?
He pulls me into a firm hug, and I breathe in his scent almost greedily. "Please, you have to come back. Don't leave my by myself." I'm nearly sobbing by the time he leans back and gently brushes the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs.
"I'll be back in a couple of ours, Primmy. I promise." And with that he leans in, pressing a chaste kiss against my lips. I want more, but he's gone before I open my eyes. One thing's for sure, I think as the hovercraft takes off, he's got more willpower than me.
Eventually I make my way to the main part of the compound. There aren't very many people in District Thirteen, especially people my age, so I'm surprised to see a girl sitting in one of the chairs. An older, worn out looking boy is slumped next to her. Refugees appear all the time, but they usually come in the form of weary young men, not teenage girls.
I take a seat next to her, not quite sure what to do with myself. Usually I'm better in social situations, but at this moment I can think of nothing to say. The girl glances at me once, and then looks away. After a moment, she looks back, and I can feel her stare burning a hole into the side of my head.
"Primrose Everdeen." She whispers quietly. I look at her. She has dirty blonde hair and piercing brown eyes. Freckles cover her face. It's eerily familiar. Suddenly, the boy next to her looks up. He almost gasps when he sees me.
"Primrose Everdeen? Really alive?" There's a sense of awe in his voice that I didn't hear in the girl's. It's almost unnerving. In fact, something about her just seems odd and challenging.
"As far as I can tell, I'm alive." I joke wryly, chuckling to myself. The boy laughs almost heartily, and I find that I like it. I haven't heard a laugh like that in awhile. He appears to be about eighteen or nineteen, almost identical to the younger girl next to him. She seems about thirteen.
"I'm Mark," He tells me, "and this is my little sister, Persephone." Then he smiles. A real, genuine smile. It's refreshing, and I can't help but return it. For a moment, I feel a flash of the old Prim. "We're from District Seven."
I nod politely. Small talk. I can do this. Primrose Everdeen can do this. "How did you find this place?" I ask. Refugees are getting more and more common, which I figure means news is spreading, but I ask anyways. The old Prim would've.
"Like anyone else," he says, "word of mouth. It took us months to get here, but I knew we'd make it eventually. And here we are." Mark grins, showing off his set of pearly white teeth.
A woman from the office appears above us. "Mark, Persephone, you're compartment has been approved and someone is here to take you on a tour of the building. They'll get your schedules to you by tomorrow." Her gaze turns to me. "Speaking of schedules, where are you supposed to be right now, Prim? "
I can feel a blush heating up my cheeks as I glance down at my arm. "School, math class." She shakes her head at me, smiling slightly. "Sorry, Lisa." During my wanderings, I've had frequent chats with her during her office shift. She's a kind mother of two, native to District Thirteen.
"Come on, troublemaker. I'll take you to Finnick and Johanna." I smile at her, following her down to the training room once Mark and Persephone are whisked away by a guide. She leaves me in the trusted care of Finnick and Johanna, who I've grown quite close to.
They waste the next few hours with me. Finnick shows me some fighting techniques. Johanna lets me retrieve her axes from the targets after every couple of throws. It's almost peaceful. By the time dinner rolls around, I'm almost in a good mood. Finnick ruffles my hair and hoists me onto his shoulder. "Let's go get some grub!" I giggle lightly as he tickles my feet.
Right now, they're the closest thing I have to family outside my mother and the remaining Hawthornes. We're almost out of the gym when the monitors begin to crackle and switch one. Suddenly, the hardened face of President Snow comes on. I can almost smell the roses.
"This is a message for Primrose Everdeen."
And my blood runs cold.
A/N: So there it is! Chapter One! I hope everyone liked it! Please leave a review, it would mean the world to me. I haven't been writing in so long, that any feedback right now would really lift my spirits. Thanks for reading. Remember to smile.
-Knifethrower11