Chapter 1
Pain. Everywhere is pain. Why does everything hurt so much. Is this smoke I smell? I just want the paint to go away. I´m tired.
I first saw him when I was 5.
It was the first day of school. I was not really nervous just curious in some way. My mother brought me. I felt so pretty, so pretty in my new red plaid dress with my hair in two neat braids.
My dad had smiled when he saw me at the breakfast table. He pulled at one of my braids, nudged my nose with his finger and said
"You are already so grown up my little kitten. Not long till I have to chase away all the boys coming looking for my little girl."
I laughed then and still to this day I remember what I said to him in reply
"No daddy, boys are icky. You don´t have to chase them off. Never ever."
My dad just laughed and told me that one day I would change my mind. How right he was.
But who had known that the day to change my mind was this very day.
I was already sitting in the class room with many other kids and I finally started to get edgy. I didn´t know anyone in the room. I saw a few of the kids in passing but I didn´t have really spoken with anyone of them.
I only ever played with my little sister and the kids of the Hawthornes, our neighbors. My parents had told me that school was a great way to get to know more people, to find friends, but sitting there alone at a table, all other kids running around and speaking with each other because they knew each other before was not so motivating for me.
And then he came in, a little boy with blond curly hair and pretty, bright blue eyes. I had never seen such blue eyes before expect at my little sister Prim, but never at a boy and he was looking at me.
He was the only person in the room noticing me. So I shyly waved at him, he smiled and then walked to me.
"Is this seat taken?" he pointed to one of the 3 other empty seats at the small table. "No it´s free" I answered and my voice sounded so small and faint.
He pulled the chair of the table and sat down directly next to me, putting a paper bag on the table. A heavenly smell came out of the bag. His face turned to me and he reached out his hand in front of him.
"My name is Peeta. Peeta Mellark. Nice to meet you."
For a moment I starred at his hand but then I grasped it shaking it wildly like all the adults I saw doing so many times before.
"I´m Katniss Everdeen. Nice to meet you too."
With my wild shaking our bodies were wobbling around and we started to laugh, releasing our hands.
He opened his paper bag and pulled out the most beautiful cupcake I ever saw. A carrot cupcake with a cheesecake frosting and a dandelion made of sugar on top. I was gaping at it.
"My daddy is a baker" he said after he saw my look. "He gave me the cupcake `cause it´s my first day." He looked thoughtful.
"But I think, " he started "it is okay if I share it with you. My daddy says it´s good to share with your friends. And we are friends, right?"
I thought about it for a second and then started to nod. He broke the cupcake in half and even gave me a piece of the sugar dandelion. It was the best cupcake I had ever eaten my whole life.
And so became Peeta Mellark my best friend in the world.
Peeta. The name is important to me. I´m not sure why. But it is important. Why is it important? I can't concentrate . The pain is so strong.
After our first meeting Peeta and I didn´t separated even for one minute. Two other kids joined us at our table a boy with chopper hair and green eyes, called Finnick and a girl named Delly. Peeta knew Delly since he could remember and in the beginning I was afraid he would only speak with her after all he knew her longer than me, but really fast I learned that he really was my best friend.
The beginning was so sweet and innocent. We were friends, we had fun and everything was perfect. We played not only at school but also at our homes with each other. My dad was always smiling a small smile when we played together in my garden or we run together over the meadow chasing each other.
Now, I think dad saw something that my 5 year old self would have not seen. A connection that was so strong that it looked like nothing could destroy it.
Everything changed one afternoon 6 months after I met Peeta for the first time. I saw the bruises before that day. But I didn´t really think about it. I had bruises too, on my legs, my arms from falling down.
I thought…I´m not really sure what I thought at that time. I was 5, for me it was impossible that a family member could hurt me. The family protects each other. This was right, this was the truth.
But on this afternoon, I learned that not all families are good and protect each other.
Dad and I were in the city that day buying groceries. Our last stop was the bakery and I was already so excited to see my best friend again that I practically run to the bakery.
Dad was laughing and yelling after me I should wait, that Peeta would be still there, that I don´t need to run so fast. But I couldn´t wait. I haven´t saw him for almost 4 days, an unbelievable long time for a 5 year old. So I just run ahead, jumped up the stairs of the front of the bakery and almost smashed the bakery door in my excitement to see Peeta again.
With a quick "Hallo Mister Mellark" I sprinted around the counter to the door in the back and raced the steps up to the apartment Peeta and his family lived in.
I should have known something was wrong. I heard the loud voice of Mrs. Mellark and she sounded angry.
To this day I still don´t know why I stopped and slowly tiptoed to the door of the room Peeta shared with his middle brother. When I reached the door I peeked around the corner and what I saw still shocks me today.
Peeta was standing in his room, tears were running down his face. Mrs. Mellark was standing in front of him. I was always afraid of her. She was always kind of nasty to me, looked at me with disgust in her face but now she became even more of a monster to me. One of her hands was like a vise around his little arms in the other hands she had papers with drawings on them. Peeta´s drawings. I recognized them.
Peeta was the best artist in our whole class. Our teacher Miss Cecilia always showed his drawings to the rest of the class and he got extra stars for his work. He was always humble about it but I was proud.
Mrs. Mellark was screaming at him and just then I understand what she said to Peeta. I was too shocked to hear a word first.
"I ask you again, Peeta. WHAT IS THIS?" He hiccupped, his tears were falling more and more. "My drawings, Mama" he said in a low voice. "What was that? Speak up!"
"My drawings" he said again this time louder. It was silent for small while.
"Drawings? Your drawings? You draw? What are you? A little girl?" Her hand pulled tighter around his arm. "No Mama" he answers. "What did I said to you about drawing, Peeta? WHAT DID I SAY?"
"Only little girls draw and dumb babiess" "And are you one of these? Are you Peeta?" her hand was getting tighter and tighter. "No, Mama" he answered.
"Good." She pushed him on the bed behind him and shred his drawings into tiny pieces that fall to the carpet.
"I will never see something like this again, do you understand? Clean up this mess and stop crying you little pansy. No son of my will be such a wimp. I didn´t wanted you but now that I have you I will not tolerate such a behavior."
She turned around and walked to the door. I could hide behind a small side table in the hallway in the last second. She walked to her room and slammed the door behind her. I heard Peeta still sniffing in his room.
"You can come in Katniss. I know you are there." I jumped because I was so surprised to hear his voice. Slowly I walked back to the door.
"Hi Peeta" I said. It was difficult to watch into his eyes after what I saw.
"I didn´t know you were coming today" he said from the floor where he was picking up the tiny pieces of his turn up pictures. A blueish bruise was forming on his arm.
"Daddy and I are buying groceries. And we have to buy bread. I wanted to say hi…so hi."
He looked up and smiled at me his full dimple smile with swollen, reddish eyes. "Hi Katniss" he answered.
Slowly I walked in the room sat down and started to help him to pick up the pieces.
When we later walked down and his dad asked why there was a bruise on his arm he said he walked into the banister of the stairs.
I didn´t said a word. I didn´t told anyone. I wish I had. I could have stopped it if I just had said one word.
"Miss? Miss? Do you hear me? Help is coming. You just have to hold out. Don´t move we will try to get you out."
There are voices outside. They are loud. They talk to me. I can smell more fire now. They want to help me? Why do they want to help me? Will they make the pain go away? Will they chase away the cold?
I miss Peeta. I wish he was here. I wish I did told Daddy what I saw. She was hurting him. So much. But I didn´t say a thing.
Our friendship was strained after the incident. It was suddenly strange to talk to him. It was as we were two different people.
And suddenly his bruises were more visible to me. On his arms, his legs and even his face. I started to hate Mrs. Mellark more and more each day, but I still didn´t say a word.
We almost only played at my house anymore. I tried to found any possible way and reason so that Peeta could spend more time by us than in his home.
I think it was my way in trying to protect him. He never talked about what happened on this day or his mother in general but I saw day after day that he changed. His eyes became sadder each day and I started to get desperate. I didn´t know what to do. And still I didn´t said one word, afraid I would in some way break Peeta´s trust. He never talked about it. He didn´t wanted that anyone know what his mother does to him, so I was quite.
And then one day, Peeta didn´t come to school. First I just thought he was ill, but after 3 days without a word I began to panic. I begged my dad to drive to the bakery and checking on Peeta.
First he didn´t wanted to go. Trying to calm me down and saying it was probably just a cold but I didn´t stop to beg and after a while he agreed to drive with me to the bakery the next day.
It was a Saturday and when we arrived the bakery was dark and closed. Now also Dad started to get nervous. The bakery was never closed on a Saturday. Peeta once told me that Saturday was their busiest day. We ringed the bell but no one opened up. I was starting to get frenetic when an old woman walked by.
"Do you search for the baker?" she asked. "Yes" said my father. "My daughter is friends with his youngest so. Do you know where they are?"
The old woman just shook her head "What a shame. He was such a sweet boy. And what a horrible mother does something like this too her own son."
I felt like my heart stopped to beat. He is dead. I was sure. I was maybe young at that point of time but I still knew what death meant.
The woman looked at my dad. "They are at the hospital. The poor thing is there. His mother thrown him down the stairs."
I can´t remember how me and my dad arrived at the hospital at this Saturday afternoon all this years ago. I just know that I was shaking and crying the whole time and dad tried to calm me. Saying me that everything will be already again, that Peeta will be okay but to be honest I didn´t believed him then.
I had saw what Mrs. Mellark had done to him. To my Peeta and I didn´t said a word.
When we arrived in the hospital we found Mr. Mellark fast. He looked horrible, red eyes with dark circles under them, wrinkled clothes but dad still hugged him and asked what happened.
And then he told us.
It happened during dinner 4 days ago. Peeta was helping his brother doing the dishes.
They were goofing around and Peeta let a plate falling down.
Mrs. Mellark was walking into the kitchen at that moment and saw it and flipped out. She started to scream and insulting Peeta and then she saw the rolling pin on the table. She hit him with it, again and again and again, till he was lying on the ground trying to cover his head and pleading to his mother to stop.
His brothers finally came out of their state of shock. His oldest brother Wheaton tried to stop their mother while his middle brother Rye was already running downstairs into the bakery getting Mr. Mellark that was working on the books but it was already too late. After Wheaton, who was 10, somehow could stopped his mother (he got also hit for it and had a broken nose and a broken arm) Peeta jumped up and run out of the room.
He tried to hide but his mother was faster. Mrs. Mellark could get free herself from her oldest and chased Peeta. By the stairs she caught him.
Mr. Mellark was at the bottom of the stairs at this point.
During the whole tale he´s voice was laced with tears. We were sitting on chairs in a waiting room but now he couldn´t stop his tear.
"Oh god Jake, I just can´t believe that she done this. I still see it. She had her hand on his little arm and then she thrown him. His little body…it fell..and then it hit the first landing…oh god" Mr. Mellark started to cry, his head in his hands not stopping and dad trying to help him.
I was crying myself, like I had saw Peeta falling the steps down myself.
After a while Mr. Mellark calmed enough. He told us that Rye had called the police that arrived a short time later.
Mrs. Mellark was in prison and Peeta was in a coma.
A brain swelling, to the broken arm, rips and ankle he also had.
I was allowed to go into his room and I think I never saw something more horrible than him lying in this gigantic bed, small and still and white as a sheet.
We stayed for an hour and then got home. I cried the whole time, hold Peeta´s hand and said again and again how sorry I am because I knew deep down that if I just had said one word this didn´t had happened at all.
"She is jammed in and I think she lost a lot of blood. She is awake but she doesn´t react at all." "Okay first we have to get her out and then we see how severe her injuries are."
Can´t be the voices quite? They hurt in my head. And I have so much pain already I don´t need a headache. I can´t tell them to say to shut up. I can´t speak. I don´t know why.
I remember how I was sitting at Peeta´s bed in the hospital after his mother hurt him so bad crying and begging him to wake up. Pleading that he forgive me for not protecting him, for not saying a word.
I regret many things in my life, this was just the first. So many things and all because I didn´t said a thing.
Tbc