I remember a few years ago, I submitted a little thing full of tears and hurt for loveinpanem's VDay challenge. It was called "A Candle for Panem" Maybe because love is what keeps us going, keeps us moving forward, beyond the pain or the hurt, beyond the tears. So once more, this is not a happy cheerful Valentine's Day story. But it's one full of love. The amazing xerxia beta-ed this for me - and I can't thank her enough for her input and precise comments :) Every comment is more than welcome...
It's just another day.
The daily paper is delivered by the neighbor's kid.
Just like any other day.
She picks it up on the threshold of her wooden door, waving at the kid who's cycling away.
She smiles as she watches the children passing by, the bigger ones holding their little brothers or sisters' hands, and she remembers a time when going to school only meant learning about their districts.
A time when there were districts.
Five, ten, or fifteen years ago, maybe.
She doesn't count anymore.
She watches the kids going to school, in a free country, a smile ghosting her lips.
She thinks of her grandchildren, remembering the pictures her son and daughter sent her yesterday. They were smiling.
Happy and free.
She enters her house, hearing the kettle whistle. She pours herself a tea, adds a spoon of honey because the doctor said it's better than sugar for her diabetes.
She still has trouble believing there's honey in her house. That she can have as much as she wants.
She brings her mug to the table, where the newspaper lays, waiting for her to start reading.
On the first page, she reads about the new discovery someone made. Something using the sun to make electricity.
She doesn't understand everything, just that's it's much more clean than the coal they harvested in D12 back in the day.
So long ago.
She smiles as she reads about the new singing contest that will take place on the television - something called "Panem Idol".
She freezes as she notices a small article.
A few lines, not long. Just enough to catch her attention.
A few words that make her heart clench.
"Yesterday was the first day of school for Charlotte Mellark. Our reporters weren't allowed to take any pictures, but we can now report that the beautiful girl wore a red dress, her hair in two braids, and was followed by her parents, Katniss and Peeta Mellark. It also appears, from Mrs Mellark's profile, that the family is expanding! Congratulations to the family!"
Her heart breaks, again, as she begins to sob.
Old wounds never really close.
Rue should be taking her children to school. They would have brilliant brown eyes, the same shade as their mother.
They would have had her joy. Her laugh. Rue would have taught them to whistle.
She would have cherished those grandchildren too.
The old woman starts crying.
For the children who died - too many of them.
For the children who lived - bearing the burden of being a victor.
For the war - that took away so many men and women.
For a little girl who wears a red dress and her hair in two braids.
For the parents of that girl, who almost lost everything.
For the losses.
For the peace.
For the love.
She cries for a few minutes, before she carefully cuts the article out of the paper. Another memento, to not forget.
One day, she'll be strong enough to go and see them in the former District 12. One day, she'll be strong enough to thank them for her freedom.
One day, she'll be strong enough to tell her it wasn't her fault Rue died.
One day.
Just not today.