Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. Although the lovely and talented Suzanne Collins does.
I'm standing there screaming her name as the bombs come down like snowflakes, exploding like volcanoes. I'm clutching onto the pole for dear life screeching her name till my throat is hoarse from the smoke. Suddenly my eyes snap open and I can hear faint murmurs of words I can't seem to reach through the fog of my nightmares. But then he kisses my forehead lightly and I know that I'm safe. I'm home. I'm in Peeta's arms.
As I shift my arms up to hold onto Peeta I notice how much I was sweating and the salty tears that have slid their way onto my lips.
"Shh, it's okay" Peeta whispers to me reassuringly. I know that he's trying to help me, let me know I'm safe, but he doesn't know what my nightmare was about. Or does he?
" She...she...the bombs...I almost had her... she was... so... so close..." I sob into his shirt attempting to explain to him what happened. I feel as though my heart had exploded inside of me. The broken fragments stabbing the area where my heart would have been. Even though Peeta was there to hold me not all my nightmares went away. In fact there were so many nights like tonight, I would wake up screaming, sobbing, thrashing around in the bed. The sheets seemed to entangle themselves around me making the nightmares ten times worse than they originally were.
After the whole ordeal my sobbing has ceased and my heart rate has slowed. Peeta continues to hold me as silent tears slip out of my eyes dripping down my face like a leaky faucet. I know he can feel my tears because some of them have settled onto his arm. That night I fall into a long, seemingly endless, nightmare free, dreamless sleep.
When I wake up I run my hands over my face and feel the path my tears made on their way to my pillow. As I reach my arms out to stretch I realize that Peeta is gone. But I don't worry because he probably just went to the bakery for the day. Or at least I think so.
Slowly but surely I make my way out of the bed still wanting to stay in its floor boards eerily creak beneath my hunters tread. When I make my way to the bathroom I stare into the mirror taking in my sight. I look like I was dropped out of a hovercraft into bushes. My clothes are awkwardly shifted in different directions. My hair, oh my hair! My hair is such a knotted mess from thrashing around in my sleep. Half of it is still in some sort of braid, the rest has taken up a mind of its own.
"You gotta be kidding me," I groan as I attempt to take out the braid and start to brush my teeth and right after that my rats nest of hair. It takes me at least twenty minutes to get all the knots out of my hair, but that was finally over with and I could go visit Peeta.
As I'm walking out of my house the sweet smell of primrose fills nose. I just stand there with my eyes shut blocking out the rest of the world. It only seems like I've been standing there for a couple seconds but then I hear Peeta asking me what happened and take in the fact that I am no longer standing. That's when I also realize that I'm sitting curled up in a ball on my front steps sobbing uncontrollably. But as I blink my grey eyes open I stare into Peetas deep blue ones taking a deep breath and try to steady myself enough to stand up. Except I dont have to, Peeta has taken me in his arms bringing me into our house. I mentally sigh at the thought of that. Our house.