Dandelion

by senseofvellichor

A story after the Rebellion. Katniss Everdeen is struggling with depression after her devastated mother and so-called bestfriend left and beloved sister died. She struggles to find hope, a reason to live, but maybe the dandelion himself will be her hope. Dark themes in the beginning.

I wake up screaming yet again, drenched in sweat, shaking with fear of evil mutts, lost children, roses, and blood. Scared to open my eyes and end up waking in the arena. When I do open my eyes and take in my soundings of my bedroom in my house of the Victors Village, I breath a sigh of relief but it doesn't last long. Soon I find tears streaming down my cheeks, missing them. The few people I let myself love... gone. A girl with healers hands, a boy with a trident, a mad girl, a girl with an axe, a boy with a bow, a women with eyes far away, a women and man with inspirational work, a man with a bottle, a lady on time, a girl that can hop from tree to tree, a man with glasses, a women who knew it was a clock, a man with a beautiful voice, a girl with some stawberrys... A boy with the bread. This all passes through my mind in a flash, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

After a few minutes I get up slowly looking at my bed longingly, but quickly dismiss the idea reminding myself I will only have nightmares. I trudge into my bathroom and strip of my sweaty clothes, hopping into the shower. I can tell its going to be one of those days, where I struggle to keep aflote in this sea of depression that threatens to drown me. After about a half an hour of doing nothing but stare at the wall as the steaming hot water pelts my bare skin, my thoughts drift to him, my dandelion in the spring, my hope, my other half, my fellow victor, my love, my allie, my fiance, my friend, my neighbor, my boy with the bread. I wonder what he's doing today, probably in his garden or at the bakery, maybe even painting. I quickly rid the thoughts. He doesn't love you anymore, one voice in my head says, you are the reason he has to grip the back of a chair for dear life, your the reason his family is not here. Another voice in my head says, no, no, your not the reason, Snow is, the Capitol is. He still loves you. I push those vioces to the back of my thoughts and turn off the shower, dry off and exit the bathroom walking over to my dresser putting on a forest green tank top and grey sweat pants along with my pair of old hunting boots, deciding to go to the Meadow today. I exit my house while braiding my hair which is all diffrent lengths, because of the bombs. I shiver, dont think about it, I tell myself.

Earlier today I thought I would probably never see the boy with bread again, at least not acknowledge eachother, after all, everybody I love gets hurt. Boy, was I wrong.