So I saw Frozen and I can't get the song "Let It Go" out of my head. Then I got this idea. I hope you enjoy my twist on it!
Disclaimer: I do not own this song nor do I own The Hunger Games.
P.S.: I'm going to put the song in the story as it goes, and just a little warning to ignore when the song says "her" or "girl" or anything feminine, because this is Peeta's perspective. (I love writing Peeta, he's my baby.) Sorry for any weird feelings. Enjoy!
The snow glows white on the mountain tonight
Not a footprint to be seen
A kingdom of isolation, and it looks like I'm the Queen
Tonight is a rather forgetful night, I assume. We sit in the warmth of her house, sheltered from the snowstorm outside. I watch the tiny flecks of snow swirl and turn in the air, some colliding against each other and some avoiding each other. Pieces of paper rest in my lap, a pencil strewn over them. On the papers are images, sketches, memories, of the people we have lost.
"It's a good idea, I think,"she had told me. "So we'll never forget them."
I think of her outstretched hand, reaching for me, pulling me into her wonder. I think of the countless sketches of Prim, of Rue, of Finnick. People and times that would be a burden to forget. Their memories rest in our hands, my long forgotten creativity. We rule over them now.
The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside
Couldn't keep it in; Heaven knows I tried
"Can you hand me the one of Rue?" she asks, and I give it to her. The girl I drew is poised on her tiptoes, reading to fly in the soft way I assume she would have. My eyes travel to the damaged girl next to me. Strands of her dark braid lazily fall out of it. Her eyes are tired, restless. Her hands rest over the book that is yet to be compiled; carefully, barely touching, as if she is afraid that her hands would destroy them with the simplest stroke. She takes the sketch of Rue and softly spreads it out, ready to write about the little girl, her life; or at least what we knew of it. It's then when I hear the sound of paper against skin, tearing it open. I hear her groan in small pain. I see the blood.
Soon she starts to pant, looking around tearfully, desperately, hoping to find some sort of bandage for the long, deep cut. I would help her, but my eyes slowly start to widen, and I slowly start to freeze. The blood envelops her hand. As if she has killed something. Then, I let out a shaky breath.
Don't let them in, don't let them see
Be the good girl you always have to be
Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know
Well now they know
"Peeta," she whispers. "Help."
"Right," I say, shaking my head, snapping out of my trance. "Right. I'll help you, hold on."
I get up and quickly search for the bandages. When I find a roll of them and bring them back, though, I almost drop them. Because her hand is completely covered in blood. It rolls down her arm, it goes under her nails. She looks like a mutt. She's going to kill me.
On instinct, using the last bit of sense I have before it all goes away, I throw her the bandages. I stand there, panting, waiting, although I don't know why. I need to stop her. I do not need to know if it is real or not real. She'll kill me before I decide.
She's bandaged her hand, her face devoid of emotion, when I run to her. I watch her turn to me, and her eyes go wide, dark with fear. She's a mutt. She's a stinking mutt. My hands lock around her throat.
Let it go, let it go
Can't hold it back any more
Let it go, let it go
Turn away and slam the door
I don't care
What they're going to say
Let the storm rage on, the cold never bothered me anyway
In the heat of it all, I see her face go pale. I see her lips form my name before I make the grip tighter and she cannot finish saying it.
It's okay, Peeta. What you're doing is okay. Real.
I let it all go. Everything I've been holding inside, every urge to keep myself steady, all of the tries to stop myself from falling off of the edge. I let it all slip away. It's electrifying.
It's funny how some distance
Makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me
Can't get to me at all
It's relieving, knowing that this isn't destroying me. It's reliving, yet terrifying. I cannot hear. I can just see vaguely, and feel strongly. I'm only saving myself. Right?
I decide to look at her, struggling and folding in my tight embrace. Her eyes are darkening, and her face is a ghostly white. Her mouth is slightly open, and I feel her gasping, slowly giving up. She looks small, very small. But maybe, I realize, it's not her that's small. It's me that's towering.
It's time to see what I can do
To test the limits and break through
No right, no wrong, no rules for me
I'm free
Everything stops. My hold on her throat, her beating heart. She collapses. I've done it. I'm safe from the mutt.
I didn't know I could do it. I never knew I had the capability to kill something. To have it die at my expense. And seeing her there, laying with a blank expression on her face, to never be beautiful again, gives me the impression that I'm free. I'm safe, with nothing to harm me ever again.
So I take her outside. She's cold, heavier than I imagined her to be. I feel her skin intoxicating my hands, and I throw her into the snow. I watch the raging blizzard swirl in front of my eyes and around her body, burying it. Now, as the ice pierces my skin, I don't wince. The weight of her has lifted. I try to cry, though. Tell myself I'm actually worth something, that I'm a being with feelings. But as the white flurry cuts into my vision, I realize I can't feel anymore. The tear comes out frozen.
Let it go, let it go
I am one with the wind and sky
Let it go, let it go
You'll never see me cry
Here I stand
And here I'll stay
Let the storm rage on
"Katniss!" I hear myself scream the name as I wake. I feel across the sheets, frantically, searching for her reassuring warmth. When I find her, though, she's cold to my touch, like the snow that buried her in…the dream? It was a dream?
My power flurries through the air into the ground
My soul is spiraling in frozen fractals all around
And one thought crystallizes like an icy blast
I'm never going back,
The past is in the past
"Peeta?" I hear her ask groggily, but I barely do because I'm screaming into my pillow. I feel one of my arms outstretched toward where I think she is, but I don't know, I don't know, I don't know. I recognize now that what seems to be muffled screaming is actually words.
"I'm sorry."
Over and over again. All I can think is that I am sorry, that I am truly, truly sorry.
She doesn't ask why, or what, or when, and I'm grateful. She just embraces me, enveloping me in her warmth. She moves with my body as it shakes from sobbing, and fear. I tell her to go back to sleep, that I'm just temporarily broken from the nightmare. I want to tell her that I'll be okay, that I can put myself back together, but I cannot form the words. So instead, I tell her, "You're not a mutt. You never were, and you never will be." And as I tell her this, as she turns me to face her, I know that it's her that can fix me. Her, and nobody else.
She kisses me, and I immediately start to thaw from the snow of my nightmare. From my heart, out until the very tips of my fingers. And as push against her, closing every inch of space between us that exists, I find that there is something else I need to let go of. Not sanity, like in the nightmare. It's hate.
It's all of the hate that has built up inside since the Capitol destroyed me, or at least tried to. It's everything of my past. And together we can let go of the past, and look towards a different future. One that is, hopefully, very warm.
Let it go, let it go
When I'll rise like the break of dawn
Let it go, let it go
That perfect girl is gone
Here I stand in the light of day
Let the storm rage on,
The cold never bothered me anyway
A/N: Thanks for reading!