Hello! I haven't posted anything in months and deleted my past stories. I decided to start writing fanfiction for Hunger Games since there aren't many long, great stories out there yet! I thought the end of Mockingjay wasn't right since the characters are past the point of being broken and it is never explained how they heal. This story takes a new turn from other stories I have read... This story will have music going with every chapter and the title is from a Paramore song. (Misguided Ghosts- Paramore)
The song for this chapter is Pity and Fear- Death Cab For Cutie. Enjoy!
How is there life when death has enclosed itself around my soul? I hear faint laughter from the town below. I stare out at District 12- Molotov City- while standing at the edge of the meadow. District 12- Molotov- has grown into one of the richest cities since it now has control over the coal produced. The city makes its own money and has build a thriving rural town. I think it's too small to be considered a city still, but the population has grown since everyone wanted to catch a glimpse of the Mockingjay. It took months to get people to come back. Some of the former residents of District 12 moved back to help the rebuild. Since the bomb destroyed most of the buildings everything had to be rebuilt. From the meadow I can see town hall- tall and proud. I laugh at the tries to show how strong the district still is when in truth most have nightmares from the rebellion. I see a post office and the new train station, but what catches my eye in the bakery. It is smaller then what I remember from before, but looking at it brings a cold chill through my bones even though it is mid summer.
I sigh and walk through what was once the fence line. Every fence or wall surrounding the districts were torn down within a week of winning the war. People moved outward, people forgave, people forgot. My fists turn hard as I swing the bow from behind my back and shot at the first thing I see. I walked up to the deer and size up my kill. Small enough to carry and fat enough to feed me for a few weeks. I smirk and make my way through the forest making kills and gathering fruits. By the time I get back to the meadow it's dusk and the city lights start to come on.
I walk along the dirt road that leads to the Victory Village- now called Aspiration Village by most. I call it hell. Anyone who arrived first moved into the homes left empty and the once empty street now is warm with the smell of spices from open windows and the decorations that go up for a celebration to honor the day the war ended. They call it the 16th of July after some past holiday from before Panem was Panem. I look up at my house and laugh at what a mess it is. The grass is overgrown and the bushes are wild. I walk around back since I rarely use the front door after seeing Peacekeepers telling me that President Snow was waiting for me. A sweet smell captures my attention as I pass a row of small, wild bushes. Primroses.
My eyes start to water before I can stop myself. I quickly wipe them away and head for the steps. My hand reaches the door and freezes. I whip my head around to the sound of a front door closing in the distance. Peeta emerges sweating and out of breath. A bag of flour is thrown over one shoulder and is put into a cart. I remember the carts moving and is something that is becoming popular in all the districts. Haymitch told me that they make it easier to get around and used to be used in the past. I take in Peeta as he loads more flour into the back of the cart. Strong. Determined. Calm.
I talk to Peeta once in a while, but try to avoid it as much as possible. Memories are too hurtful and the feel of his hands around my throat makes me open the door and walk in. I can't face Peeta- not yet. I will talk to him soon though. I know that he has gotten better since the war ended. Haymitch updates me whenever I bring him game. Peeta went through intensive therapy that helped stop his frantic behavior when he was brought back by a flashback. He helped rebuild and open the bakery. He took care of a finally broken Haymitch when I couldn't. I remember hearing the cries from Haymitch's house a few weeks after the war ended. After all these years, Haymitch was strong. The drinking kept him stable and blurred around the edges, but still stable. One night when all the liquor was gone the memories came back from his year in the Games and the nightmare of the war. I tried helping. I really did, but I couldn't move myself. I was in a depression that I couldn't step out of. All the deaths that were caused by me haunted my days and nights. I was a mess for about seven months before I realized that Spring was arriving and I needed to start hunting again. That day I showered, dressed, and caught more than I had ever caught in my life.
Peeta ran to Haymitch, cleaned him up, and put him to sleep. I don't know what he said or did to make the crying and screaming stop, but it worked. After, it would be rare when Haymitch broke down, but when it happened it was Peeta who would comfort him. I always knew he sucked up to Haymitch.
I prepared the deer and placed in in a large cooler for later meals and heated up leftover pasta. I sat alone in silence like I do every night. Eat. Shower. Sleep. Wake up. Hunt. Repeat. I stared down at my poorly put together pasta and shove it aside. What am I doing with my life? My only friend is Haymitch and faintly Peeta. I can't even talk to Peeta without stuttering and running off like a coward. My mom won't talk to me because I remind her too much of Prim's death. Gale is in the running for a high position as the top Military Officer and won't bother with me either. Everyone in town stares at me like I'm about to break down or scream. Life is moving on without me.
I pity them all. They don't know death. Most don't know what it's like to intentionally kill a human. Most don't know anything but moving on and forgetting. I can't forget. How could I?
Still, I fear it all. I fear the new government will turn into the past Government of Panem. I fear Gale will never talk to me again because I hurt him so much. I fear the nightmares will surround my life completely until I'm hopeless. Most of all, I fear that Peeta will never love me because in my heart I will always love the boy with the bread.
Pity and Fear.