His lifeless body, drained of heat, laid still on the sterile white bed. His soft blonde curls flat against his forehead, stuck there from the sweat of his battle against Death. His eyes were still open and they bore back into my own. The purity of the blue remaining in tack but the twinkle and love that they always seemed to hold for me was gone. His long blonde lashes framed those delicate orbs and yet everything remained still. He was gone. I was there during his last moments as he fought with all he had. I knew how much he wanted to be alive, to be here with me, but fate tore us apart once again. Smiling bitterly I sunk to the ground, my hand linking with his cold ones, grasping onto the last bit of hope I had, the hope that he was still alive.
I use to despise my mother. I hate how love had made her so weak and feeble. I hate her for leaving Prim and I to fend for ourselves. I hated the whole idea of love because of her. But now I'm here myself, broken, feeling the strength of love that ultimately tore me apart. I wanted to die, as death seemed like the easy route out. Death would finally bring me peace. Death would rescue me from the grasp of this cold world that is now plagued with warfare and death. Death would reunite us.
What stopped me, was the budding life that grew inside of me. I had been a few months pregnant when Peeta died. I had tried to hang myself shortly after. The song that my father sang years ago replayed in my head. Where I told you to run so we'd both be free. Then I felt a stir inside of me. I was reminded that I wasn't alone and how would I be different from the Capitol. I couldn't take a life that didn't belong to me. This was Peeta's child. I will do what I can to keep it alive. Yes, I refused to refer to the baby as anything else other than "it" but everything changed one morning.
I held her in my arms, my own body felt numb from the exhaustion and my face was coated with sweat that glued my dark strands to my head. I stared down at the sleeping figure, unaware of the danger that awaited her future. The games were gone, yes, but the reoccurring nightmares kept the fear real. He isn't here to make the pain bearable. I glanced outside the window, the roads were coated by a thick layer of white blanket. White flakes danced in the air to the gentle sounds of the chilly wind. I smiled tiredly to myself as I watched the red orb smear the horizon, leaving the sky with a mixture of brilliant colours, those marks I knew would eventually be consumed by the fast approaching darkness. My gaze dropped towards the little bundle, her eyes fluttered twice before they opened for the first time. The brilliant blue that I was greeted with kept me in awe and reminded me, even in death, he was here with me. Her chubby little fingers grabbed onto mine and the fear that once resided in the pit of my stomach somehow was tamed and subsided.
I watched as my daughter slowly grew up. I watched as she outgrew her crib. I noted every change in her appearance. The once chubby little girl began resembling more and more of myself. I wished she was more like Peeta, but those pure blue eyes never failed to reassure myself, he was here with me. Her dark curls grew longer as she grew taller. Her dark lashes, long and curled, framed the gem like eyes that seemed to twinkle every so often. Those eyes that kept me sane when I woke up screaming in the middle of the night. The same eyes that anchored me to reality and gave me a type of strength I never knew existed.
I smiled to myself as I held onto my daughter's hand, walking her to school. Her dark curls, now waist length was bouncing along with her movements. She looked more and more like myself everyday but the "Peeta" in her seeps through gradually as well. The way she loved watching the sunsets. The way she loved making friends. The way she drew everything with such precision and beauty for her age. The same way she reminded myself of him everyday. I cried that day as I watched my little girl walk through the school gates of 12, no longer needing her wounded mum.
12 years after Peeta's death, I watched as our girl's hands glided acorss the canvas capturing the scenery before us.
"Mummy," Her soothing voice rang out, her call slightly smothered by the wind, "I want to give this picture to Grandpa."
"Ok," I replied simply, though my smile remained on my face, "Grandpa Haymitch would love it darling."
Content, she resumed her drawing, her dark hair flying behind her. Chuckling to myself I made my way towards her and took her dark strands into my hands. My fingers worked with speed and accuracy, braided every single curl into a side braid. Her hair silky to touch was kept in a much better condition than mine, but she had never had to go through what I went through. And I am keeping it this way. As I finished, I pulled her into an embrace and sat her on my lap before taking the canvas into my hands. The dark lining of the forest contrasted greatly with the soft lush mint green grass that sprouted in the meadow. Blossoming primroses, daisies and other flowers covered the land and seemed to sway slowly with the movement of the wind. The sky was brilliant orange, intermingles with blues, greys, reds and yellows. I felt her lean into me and before I spoke, she cut me off short by saying, "Mummy, daddy would've loved today right?"
I furrowed my brows before a soft grimace…or was it a smile appeared on my aged face, "Yes Honey. He would've loved to spend everyday with us. He would've loved to see all the beautiful drawings you drew. He would've loved to watch the sunset everyday with you."
"I love you mummy." My girl had spoke softly burring her face in the crook of my neck. She paused before continuing, "What was daddy like mum?"
"He…" I stopped, conjuring up pictures of him, reminiscing the memories I had shared with him, "Was the most amazing man mummy had ever met. He was full of love and compassion. He is like the dandelions in the meadow honey."
My little girl nodded her head before her finger pinched a single dandelion that was next to our bodies. She brought the delicate flower to her face and blew onto the flower before saying, "Daddy, I hope you get my message. Mummy and I both miss you a lot."
What no one anticipated was, Peony was seeing him sooner than anyone would've liked.
12 hours I had been waiting. I had been pacing relentless and almost oblivious to everything that surrounded me. Then the red lights stopped flashing and a body was wheeled out of the room. My own scream pierced my ears as I noticed the while sheet that covered my daughter's limp body. I sunk to the ground, my arms wrapped around my body. I had lost my last dandelion. Peeta, Prim and now Peony.
That night I sang that ever so familiar song.
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
They strung up a man
They say who murdered three.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met at midnight
In the hanging tree.
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where dead man called out
For his love to flee.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met at midnight
In the hanging tree.
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where I told you to run,
So we'd both be free.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met at midnight
In the hanging tree.
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Wear a necklace of rope,
Side by side with me.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met at midnight
In the hanging tree.
I smiled as I wore my necklace of rope, the rigged material scratching my neck. I felt as air slowly left my system, every breath became harder. I felt Death slowly seize me, darkness gradually consuming me. Peace was what I felt as I died. I can finally see them both again. I'll be mended.
Dear Haymithch,
I would assume it would be you who would read this letter. The pain got too much. Peeta died. Prim died. And now I had lost my daughter, the only thing I had left to protect. You might wanna say it wasn't my fault Peony died. It was a chronic disease that we all knew would follow her into adulthood but it was brought upon by my unstable physical and mental health during my pregnancy and I will never be able to forgive myself for it. Don't worry about me. I died painless, I can finllay meet him Haymitch. I left him in the cold world for 12 years, it's about time I went and reunite with my family. I love you. Please don't drink as much, Haymitch, Effie is always there when the pain is too hard to bear. Don't be like me. Don't lose the most important thing in your life.
Love,
Katniss
Hi, thanks for reading everyone. I was feeling really depressed again haha but... it's what we love the most that destroys us, so of course I'm gonna go see Mockingjay again tomorrow. I know this is an extremely depressing piece but hope you all like it *sobs*