I run through the woods, screaming and sobbing. Pushing through the branches that are sharp as thorns, that tear at my skin and clothes. Shouts of evil and awful things follow me as I run faster and faster. Mutt, liar, murderer, and mistake feel like their physically burning into me and the harder I fight against them the more scars they leave.
"I DIDN'T DO IT." I scream. It's no use, we all know I'm lying, that I'm a-
All of the sudden I can hear Gale's voice behind me saying soothing words, telling me he loves me and only wants to protect me, that he'll take good care of me for eternity. The words are healing my scars, my mistakes, and my life. I trust him, I think as I turn to face him, but I spoke to soon. He's holding a knife to Prims throat and all I can do is watch in horror as he drags it harshly across her throat with a look of pure delight masking his handsome, but sinister, features.
"Do you see what you've done," he asks, "you could of stopped me, but you were to weak, you ARE to weak." I'm shaking my head, trying to deny his hateful words but he's already laughing at me as he hold Prims lifeless body. I sink to my knees and let his laughter burn in me, covering my flesh in red angry bumps of heat and pull every single piece of hair from head. As I sit writhing in pain I realize this is truly what it means to become a girl on fire.
BANG! I feel a sharp pain in my left hand as I hit the floor with a thud. The covers that I took down with me didn't do much to soften the blow of the wooden floor. Might as well just stay here today, I think to myself going over my schedule that has been cleared for two months since I got Greasy Sae to stop coming over. She'd force food down my throat, clean, and talk to me like nothing had ever happened. All the things I didn't want or really even need, though I did thank her for her efforts while I wheeled her out the door.
I stare at the ceiling pretending that I'm warping and twisting the cracks, I know my hand is broken because of the constant throbbing pain but at this point it doesn't matter. Nothing does, no one does, and especially not the dreams. They're always happening with different people i've tortured and killed, different places I have destroyed beyond recognition, and everything I loved but ruined forever. Theres nothing I can do. The hands already broken, isn't it? The people and places are already torn apart, aren't they? I'm already lost with no hope of being found.
I stare a little longer, liking the idea of being nothing and doing nothing for the rest of my life. I don't deserve love if all I have done is hate. I don't deserve happiness if all I can do is make everyone sad. I don't deserve family if I can't protect them, and with these realizations I can feel my whole body numb and try to block out the eternal pain. I miss my old life, hunting with Gale, going to school, bringing the animals I got that day to the Hob, and talking to Prim. I miss Primrose Everdeen with all thats still in me.
Tears burn my eyes so I shut down and stop the thoughts that make me weak and wanting of things that are already gone, but this time it's not going to be enough.
There are the few times where I can't stop myself from going that far, but lately it hasn't been a "few" times. A sob escapes my throat as I drag myself off the floor and over to the bathroom making sure to cradle my left hand.
I'm better than this, I'm not this weak, These thoughts replay through my head as I dig around the drawer with my good hand. The relief is overwhelming when it closes around the blade with enough pressure to sting but not enough to draw blood.
Don't do this. You don't have to do this Katniss, but I shut out the sane part of my mind. With my right hand I drag the blades edge fiercely across the upper part of my left arm, ignoring all the other scars that are already there. The pain is so numbing that it shuts out the unwelcome thoughts and brings my mind back into focus. When I first started cutting I never realized how it would become the one thing I could count on. I thought i'd be weak for just two minutes and get it over with, but like Haymitch and drinking it became my escape, my awful habit that I turn to when I'm not strong enough to pull myself out of it alone.
The stream of blood brings catches attention and I curse myself for wandering off. I only made this mistake once and it was an unpleasant one, losing that much blood made me have to go to a hospital for help. I told them I had been cooking and the knife slipped, no one could blame them for being so suspicious considering the fact that me being in a kitchen and cooking are two very unlikely things. They still didn't call me out or accuse me of anything, the nurse just nonchalantly wrote me a subscription to some depression and anxiety medicine that I keep in the back of the cabinet.
"Damn it, Damn it, Damn it!" I stammer out loud while I grab and towel and push down on my arm. Examining the damage more closely I realize it's not that bad and should heal into a scab by tomorrow. I relax as I wrap a bandage around it and tug my shirt sleeve down my arm, ashamed by my actions but yet I'm still not regretful enough to promise myself I won''t do it again. My wrist bumps my left hand and I hiss in pain, Probably should of remembered that was broken. Thankfully my cutting didn't result in a hospital but my thrashing while I sleep has. This is going to be fun, I think while I tensely walk down the stairs.
Grabbing my coat and pulling on my boots I'm about to stomp out the door when I catch sight of appearance in the mirror hanging over the side table. That girl staring back can't possibly be me. All the cutting has resulted in my skin losing all of it's color to the point where I could easily be a ghost, definitely not a nineteen year-old girl. My hair isn't as bad, I have put enough effort in to brushing it every day, but it's now down to my waist and is in desperate need of serious trimming. The thing that scares me the most is my weight, I realize that I haven't eaten in at least a week. I don't feel hungry so it always slips my mind to dig through the fridge for something. It has resulted in me resembling a skeleton, my eyes look so hollow that i'm worried they might disappear.
Note to self, try not to starve. It's been a long time since I had to think that, It's not the same though. It's one thing to starve by not being able to afford food and it's a whole other thing when you have enough money to feed every person within the thirteen districts but your too weak to even go out in daylight.
I can't go to hospital! They won't discharge me this time, Shuddering in horror I throw my coat back in the closet and make my way into the living room. I'm alone in this, no one cares anymore. No one needs you. You don't need anyone, and I begin to cry. The only explanation to why I do this is because I've had enough. I've held in my tears since I was eleven years old and my body is no longer capable of hiding. I don't know how long I lay there sobbing, it felt like decades before I was once again staring at the ceiling in silence with my left hand completely painless, not a good sign.
With my eyes closed I raise my hand carefully and count to ten before opening. It's completely swollen at the wrist where the break is probably located and is in need of desperate attention. No way is the hospital an option, maybe I can visit Haymit- No one needs you. You don't need anyone, the words replay through my head and I realize that their true. I'm going to be alone on this, utterly alone.
Hello! This is my new story! Right here is where I'll be posting information about the story and answering any questions. More information about me is on my profile! Also I answer some un-asked questions about this story. REVIEW! That's all I ask from you. Even one word is fine with me, constructive criticism is TOTALLY allowed. Sorry for ending the chapter so weirdly, chapters will be longer. No update dates sent in stone yet, sketchy schedules. Thanks tons, Evelyn
