I sit silently in the chair on my porch clutching some whiskey in my shaky hand. I hesitate to take it many times, because I know the awful effect it can have on your body. I haven't taken one sip of it yet. This would be the first time, not including the one sip I took at Haymitch's house the day I found out I was going back to the arena, that I would take a sip of it. Once the nasty, killing liquid reaches the tip of my tongue, I spit the remainder of it out and immediately throw it across the porch and onto the ground. It makes me angry that I attempt to do this so many times, but when I think about Haymitch and his issues, I throw it out.
Thinking too much about Peeta causes me pain and agony. I don't know if he will ever be himself again, or if I will even see him again. I feel the fear throughout myself when I think of him; the fear of losing him again and the fear of him hastily clutching his strong hands around my neck again. Every time this comes to my mind, I scream as if it is a nightmare, being completely in the midst of the day.
I begin to recover slowly, and my thoughts fade away one by one about anything and everything that causes me pain. So that sums it down to everything. I go for a long hunt each day and it is in fact the only time I smile on the rarest occasions. Haymitch comes to check on me every once in a while. Of course, he only can do this when he is the least bit sober.
"Katniss! I need you to come here! Katniss!" Haymitch yells at the top of his lungs. I swiftly snap out of my habitual daydreams and I find Haymitch lying on the ground in front of his house.
"Haymitch what's wrong? What happened?" I ask him frantically and his face brightens up.
"Oh, sweetheart. Nothing to get worried about. I just need you to help me set up these Christmas lights," he says.
Ugh. Thanks for taking me out of my wonderful daydream idiot.
"Haymitch! It is nowhere near Christmas you doof!" I yell at him trying not to burst out in laughter.
"Hey, now you. Don't use that language with me. Understand?" he snaps at me.
"Language, Haymitch? What part of that statement would you call language?" I say quoting the word language.
"You know what? Shutup! That's all I'm going to say," he tells me in anger.
"Alright, fine then. Forget the lights. Let's go make you some hot chocolate," I tell him attempting to distract him. He gives me a slight grin. I actually didn't think he liked hot chocolate. Whatever then.
I storm into Haymitch's house which is disgustingly messy. I search every counter and drawer in his kitchen, and I cannot find anything whatsoever. Instead, I just drag his lazy, drunken body to my house. I realize this is the first time I am helping Haymitch since I got back from the, you know. Can't say. Too many memories apply there.
He moans and complains in only what I can make out to be mumbles, but I ignore them as usual. He plops himself on the couch, and I immediately regret allowing him to do that because of the awful smell he brings into the house. He just sighs when I sniff the nasty scent and lets out a quite loud and obnoxious laugh. I just roll my eyes and collect the stuff to make the hot chocolate. It takes about five seconds before he starts complaining about how long I am taking. I just sigh and continue trying to block out the noises coming from his mouth.
I finally finish, and I quickly set the plate on the coffee table.
"Well thanks, sweetheart," he says genuinely. I can hear the sobriety in his voice, but the thought escapes my mind when he yells, "MMMM! Ohh this is just perfeeecct!" He exaggerates the "t" and gives me a strange drunk-like smile.
"Oh you're welcome. Now finish that up so you can get your butt into your own house so I can clean this nasty scent out of my living room," I snap, and I can see his face turn red with offense.
"Well someone is getting a little snappy, aren't they sweetheart?" He finishes his last gulp and before I know it he is out the door. To my surprise, he doesn't fall down the porch steps for the first time.
I gather all of the cleaning supplies, and I mean ALL OF THEM, in order to clean this nasty stuff off of my furniture. I spray the loads of each can onto the couch, and a fresh scent is finally filling the air of my home. I think about how lonely I am nowadays. Even though the games were dreadful to be a part of, I loved the feeling of having Peeta comfort me and warm me in my nights full of fears. I cannot even describe the feeling he gave me. He made me feel more confident. I'd always thought of myself as not very pretty, but the way he looked at me made me feel differently.
I think about every day the fact that I loved Peeta before I even knew I did. It was hard to express my feelings. I didn't want to hurt Gale. But I know that I loved Peeta the most, and even Finnick explained to me that when Peeta died. I owe Finnick so much, beyond words. Finnick. Soft tears fall down my face as I think about all of the people that I have lost in my life because of my stubbornness and failure. The thought makes me shiver, and I want to scream so badly.
I take a hold of the spray cleaning machine and almost throw it out of site. I stop, calm myself, and I take it back to the supply room. I decide it is time to cook some dinner for myself, and I might as well let Haymitch stop by. I was a little rude to him anyways.
I pull out some noodles and add in some turkey meet into boiling water. Later I add in some vegetables that I planted in my demolished garden rather long ago. I can smell the lovely scent of turkey soup making me even hungrier. Once I am finished cooking the soup, I run over to Haymitch's house located just steps away.
"Haymitch!" I yell banging on the door. He swings it open, looking quite normal.
"I made some soup. Wanna join?" I ask him. I can see the eagerness on his face.
"Yes I sure would, sweetheart," On that note I grab his wrist and take him over to my house. He sits directly at the end of the table and waits for me to bring his food.
"Katniss?" Haymitch asks my name.
"Yes?"
"I wanted to talk to you anyways," I stare at him in confusion.
"That whole thing with Peeta. It is going to be okay. It may not be as it was before, but I know that kid. He is a strong fighter and I know that he loves you and he wants to get better. The last time I talked to him, Katniss, I mentioned your name. He just smiled. He repeated, "Katniss," and he smiled. Then he mumbled under his breath, "I miss her." I'm telling you, he knows exactly who you are. He knows that he loves you. You need to be strong," Haymitch tells me with such passion in his voice that only comes to me when he is giving me advice.
I begin to tear up. I tear up, like a lot. Then I actually cry. I cry, like a lot. I put the soup in his bowl, and I bring it over to him with tears all down my face.
"Thank you, Haymitch," that is all I say. And that is all we say about Peeta for the rest of the meal.
"So how's your hunting going?" he asks me.
"Well you know this turkey was shot right from Katniss Everdeen's hands herself. You know it's going well by the fresh taste of it, don't you?" I say in a feisty way.
"Look who is getting cocky. You are finally starting to become yourself again, sweetheart," he says to me.
"Oh, so you say I am always cocky?" I ask him sarcastically. He just laughs and shakes his head. We both let out a few laughs before he finally decides that he has stuffed his belly enough for the night. I hug him tightly and before I know it he is gone. For the time being, I did not feel as lonely as I normally do.
After a night full of bad dreams, I pop straight out of bed and into the warm, soothing shower. I spend about half an hour cleansing my hair and my body. I slip out of the steamy bathroom and a burst of air clings to my body. I rush to get a robe and I tie it around my body. Then I hear the phone ring loudly. It surprises my quite frankly. This is the first phone call I have had in ages, but I am anxious to see who would take the time to talk to my stubborn self.
I quickly trot down the steep wooden stairs and grab the phone before it stops ringing.
"Hello?" I ask, curiously.
"Hi. Is this Mrs. Everdeen speaking?" Someone asks in a very familiar voice.
"Yes… yes it is. May I help you?" I ask.
"Well, it looks like Mrs. Everdeen has come to be very polite, hasn't she?" The man says, and my desire to find out who it is grows stronger by the second.
"Who is this?" I say, getting pretty offensive.
Then his voice becomes more serious, and I get a clue of who it is.
"Katniss, listen. Just listen. Do not hang up. Just listen. Okay?" I reply back with a swift, "Okay," and he continues.
"The capitol took me in. I know you know that and I know you know what they did to me. I don't want you to suffer from this and neither do I. While I was staying at the capitol, and a few days after the war was over, my true memories actually returned. I went to see the doctor yesterday, and he told me that they invented a new medicine to rid of the venom completely. You don't understand how happy I am. I have been better for a while now, but I wanted to wait to tell you because I didn't want anything bad to happen to me like a flashback. They said that the only reason those would ever occur again is if we specifically mention something about a video they showed me to think you tried to kill me. And that would be rare even then. Katniss, I love you. I don't want to lose you again"
It takes me a while to get my thoughts together, but a spring of joy enters my body.
"Peeta. I know you tried hard. I want us to work things out. Will you come to District 12?" I ask him desperately.
"I already am here,"