It's a cold winter night but I don't feel like walking away from the window. From here I can see the pouring rain and even tough storms used to lead me into a bad mood I don't mind. Actually, there are few things I care right now. It's been like that since I came back to District 12 a few months ago. This house is so empty and it doesn't feel like home. Not without Prim. I avoid getting near her bedroom or even thinking about her. Of course it doesn't work and there's always a time in the day when I realize she's not coming back. Buttercup makes sure he's not far away from the house. I think he expects Prim to come back. Little does he know that is not going to happen.
My mom didn't come back. I guess there are too many memories here. I haven't been talking to her a lot lately but I know she's been avoiding the subject. If it was five years ago I would call her weak. Now I don't blame her.
Suddenly I spot lights turning on in Peeta's house. I probably didn't see him because of the rain. Right now our relationship is confusing. A mess would be a better word. We adhered to the same status we had before the Victory Tour. We only speak if we have to, but help ourselves with bread and hunting, which is ridiculous considering all we've been through the past couple of years. I don't know what I feel about him. I miss him quite terribly, but I don't know how to act around him anymore. I admit I avoid thinking about it because, even if I liked him, what are the odds of us working out? I mean, he has been hijacked and I know there are moments that he's not sure if I'm his friend or a mutt. So instead I pretend nothing's happened and he does as well.
It's 8:00 p.m. but I'm not hungry enough to eat. Night is the worst time because I know nightmares are coming up. I can already picture Prim dying or some of the tributes from the games exploding while I just watch, not doing anything to help. I decide to go to Haymitch's and get distracted.
As soon as I get there I notice that the door is unlocked so I just come in without knocking. His place is a mess and as usual, he's drunk.
"Hey Haymitch" I say.
"Well, look who decided to get out of the house. Good evening sweetheart. How was your typical boring day?" He replies.
"Typical. You've got anything to eat?" I ask, realizing there'll be a time I'll have to put food in my body.
"I thought Greasy Sae had stopped by your place".
"She did" I respond, remembering this afternoon. Greasy Sae goes to my house every day. I don't want company, but it's nice to have a person other than Peeta or Haymitch there.
"But you missed me, right? Have a seat, I'll get you something" He answers, but as he gets up, he starts a failed attempt of having balance to stand.
"Don't worry, I'll help myself" I say.
Sometimes I wonder if Haymitch has the same kind of nightmares that I do. And if that's the reason why he still drinks. I believe so because no one goes out off the games without a scar. Not even Annie did and I think she used to be the kind of girl everyone loved and that made everyone's day better.
"Guess who stopped by here today". Haymitch says, bringing me from my thoughts back to real life.
"Who?" I ask.
"Lover boy. He got me the bread you're holding right now"
"Oh really?" I say, trying to look surprised. I know that he bakes. What's his point?
"You know part of his baking is an effort to stay sane. Dr. Aurelius isn't what we call effective"
It's true. It's not like he's the best psychologist in the world, but answering his phone calls would help. Even because, what does he know about what we're going through? He can't know. No one can but us. Instead, my treatment is hunting. Peeta's is baking. Haymitch's is alcohol.
"The thing is, girl on fire, he's still messed up. A lot. And he needs help. From you. There are things that you're the only that can explain." He says. How could he say that? He can't just demand I talk about such personal things with Peeta. I'm not ready yet.
"How can I explain this stuff to him if even I am confused?" I say almost screaming.
"I'm sure you're confused but he's more. You know that. And he deserves answers. Complete answers, not only real or not real".
The annoying thing is that he's right.
"Yeah. We'll see" I say, walking towards the door. "Good night Haymitch".
"Sweet dreams Katniss" he says in a sarcastic way.
In a short time, I'm at home. As I try to sleep, I understand what Haymitch meant. I might not deserve Peeta, but he deserves answers. He deserves to know the truth, even if this drives me crazy. So I close my eyes, and catch myself wanting that a blue eyed boy was here to take my nightmares away.