Hello my dear readers! Amazingly, this is the first time I've posted a story for the best series ever. It didn't come out quite the way I wanted it, but I still like it I guess. Ow! Dangit! My ring just got caught in my hair. I'm sure you all really wanted to know that.
Disclaimer: Me no own. 'Nough said.
And onward with the story!
When You're Older
A Hunger Games short story
Summary: Katniss' daughter is tired of being told she is "too young."
"Momma, why does Daddy ask you if things are real or not? Doesn't he know the difference?" The dark haired little girl asked her mother.
The woman looked down at her little girl, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "I'll tell you when you're older, baby. Now go and play with your brother."
The little girl frowned, recognizing even in her young age that her mother was upset. She turned around, her dark brown hair fanning out behind her, just like her mother's used to do.
(break)
"Momma, what's so scary about your nightmares?" The young girl asked sitting on her parents' bed as her mother awoke from a dream, panting, as usual.
The woman's eyes focused on the silhouette of her daughter. The pupils of her eyes huge from her panic induced dream. She shook her head, attempting to clear it, before sitting up and staring sharply at her daughter. "Sweetie, what are you doing up? You should be in bed."
The girl suddenly felt small and insignificant. "I had a bad dream," she said in a small voice. "It was scary."
The woman's eyes softened and she pulled her daughter into a hug. "I know, baby, I know," she whispered into the dark hair of her child, her eyes reflecting years of sadness.
(break)
"Momma, why don't you like the smell of roses?" the girl wondered.
The woman sitting at the kitchen tabled lifted her head sharply. She focused her eyes onto her daughter before saying in a brisk voice, "Why do you want to know?"
The girl lowered her eyes to the table and traced a grain of wood under her figure. "I was just curious," she muttered, offended.
The woman turned back to the book she was writing in. "I'll tell you when you're older."
The girl stormed away frustrated.
(break)
"Mom, what's that book you and Dad are always writing in?" the girl asked her mother who was bent over the gradually growing book.
The woman quickly snapped it shut before turning to her daughter. "Oh, it's nothing, baby. I'll show it to you when you're a bit older."
The girl shook her head angrily before walking outside to play in the Meadow.
(break)
"Mom, why don't you like it when we play in the Meadow?"
The woman turned her eyes on her daughter. "Who told you that?"
"Your eyes say it all," the young lady said with far too much wisdom for her young age.
She sounds just like her aunt, the girl's mother realized with a sharp pang in her chest.
"I'll tell you when you're older, baby," The mother answered, turning away her face so she could wipe away her tears of sorrow for those lost.
The girl knew not to question any further.
(break)
"Mom, what's the Hunger Games?" the dark haired youth asked her mother.
The woman, and older version of her daughter, sharply swung her head around. Her eyes were wide with surprise. "Where did you hear that?" She asked, her voice sharper than she had probably meant it to be.
The girl reeled back in surprise; her mother had never taken that tone of voice with her.
The woman gripped her daughter's arms and spoke softer now, but still with the same feverish glint in her eyes, "Where did you hear those words?"
"Daisy's mom mentioned something about it. Something about how I was lucky to be born," the girl said in a rush. Pausing a moment, she turned curious eyes onto her mother. "What did she mean by that?"
The woman released her daughter's arms and slumped back into her chair. "I'll tell you when you're a bit older," she said, suddenly looking a hundred years old.
(break)
"Hey, Mom, why do you just plant primroses? Why not anything else?" the girl asked, leaning out the window as she watched her mother plant the sweet smelling plants.
"Because they remind me of her," the woman answered without thinking. She glanced up at her daughter's questioning gaze. "I'll tell you when you're older.
The girl threw up her hands in frustration before stomping up to her room and promptly slamming the door shut.
(break)
"Hey, Mom? Why doesn't anyone ever really go hunting like you do?" the girl asked her mom.
"I guess they're all just used to the way things used to be." The dark haired woman replied.
"Which was….?" Her daughter prodded.
"I'll tell you when you're old enough," she answered dismissively.
"When am I going to be old enough?"
"When I say you are," was all the girl got as an answer.
"You are impossible!" The girl yelled throwing her arms in the air.
"So I've been told," her mother said with a small smile.
The girl turned away, recognizing a hopeless battle. She stormed outside, muttering under her breath.
(break)
"Mom, why don't you ever answer my questions?" the girl exploded. Her face red with anger, she slammed her hands on the table and jumped to her feet. Her mother marveled at her stance knowing that she looked exactly the same more than a few times at that age.
The woman looked back down into the notebook she was sketching a plant into. "I'll tell you when you're –"
"Older. Yes, I know. I've heard it only a million times. Well, you know, I'm older now.I think I can handle it!" She shouted.
Her mother looked up at her, and all at once the fight went out of the girl and she sat down hard in her chair. Looking into her mother's weary, haunted eyes, eyes that had seen far too much, she saw something that scared her, something that she never wanted to see again: Fear, bone chilling fear. Her mom was so far away, in a place that her daughter couldn't even start to picture. The woman's hands curled into fists as she straightened in her seat. When she spoke, her voice wasn't that of a mother of two. It was of a hardened warrior, and that scared her daughter something fierce.
The woman seemed to have forgotten where she was and when she opened her mouth her voice came out just as sharp and harsh as it had been when she was seventeen. "I wish someone had told me I was too young."
The end
Was it terrible? Awesome? Do you like waffles? Review! I really want to know!