Love is stronger than death even though it can't stop death from happening, but no matter how hard death tries it can't separate people from love. It can't take away our memories either. In the end, life is stronger than death. -Anonymous
Another gloomy, rainy day. I'm wearing a beautiful silk, black dress that Cinna designed for me long ago. Speaking of my hair, it's no longer in a braid, but is down. As I observe my reflection in the puddle, I think that this dress is too pretty for an occasion such as this. It's out of place for this day. Maybe if it were a joyous celebration, I wouldn't mind so much.
If I had only known that I would lose him, I would have told him the truth before. Now that I'm here, standing at his grave, it's far too late. I'll never get to return the love he had for me.
His funeral isn't anything fancy. It's just a few people he knew in his lifetime paying their respects. I knew that I would be expected to speak, but it seems I've been mute the past few days. I should be happy because Snow and Coin are dead, but I feel empty. Nothing can suppress the ache of loneliness that plagues my heart and thoughts No one can free me from this inhibiting prison called grief. My tears freely fall, I let no restraint be erected for the sake of public appearance. I veil my face from the cameras and reporters who ask the very questions I don't want to hear. The lugubrious melody orchestrated by the rain drops seems to agree.
Soon enough, the ceremony is over and people offer their condolences to me before leaving. The only thing that can heal my battered heart is if the boy I love returns to me, but that's wishful thinking. He's not coming back. His flesh has been buried in this spot to rot and to be eaten away. Never again will I feel the warmth of his lips pressed against mine. Quiescently, he lays eight feet below the surface, never to take another glimpse of the light of day. I long to see his handsome face, those loving eyes, but my stare is only met by a pile of moist dirt. I'm destined to a life of eternal solitude.
One by one, the guests leave, yet I remain. Only one person lingers, hoping he can remedy my loss, but I know he can't. No one will ever be able to replace him. People always wondered who I would choose: Peeta or Gale. But in reality, there was only one. All along, it wasn't a love triangle. I knew who I truly loved more, but he's been cruelly ripped away from me. There is no Plan B.
"Katniss, let me walk you home. You'll get pneumonia standing out here." His cold arm wraps around my small waist. I don't feel a flutter in my stomach or a wave of happiness like the one long gone gave me. This boy's touch does nothing for me. He's not the boy whom I was deeply in love with. He's the "other one."
I remember the boy who's touch gave me hope, he never failed to breathe life into me whenever we were together. But that boy is gone and I'm the walking dead.
"Katniss?" He asks again, worry flooding his voice. I think there might be hope. I look into his eyes, but am only met by a cold abyss. These aren't the eyes that saw right through my soul and pierced my heart. I don't respond and I sense he's getting impatient, but he tries to pull me into an embrace. I don't welcome it. Only the one I loved could make me feel hope again.
If I care about appearances, I won't collapse onto the ground in sobs, but I don't, so I do just that. Mud seeps onto my skin and tangles itself in my hair. At least in the rain, no one can see my tears, except the boy who hovers behind me. He must wish that he could be of some help, but he must know deep down inside that he can never replace the one I lost.
Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice, but falling in love with you I had no control over. -Anonymous