I just finished Mockingjay and I cannot get this out of my head. So here it is.
WORD COUNT: 1032
WARNING: suicide, un-beta'd, grammatical errors
DISCLAMER: I am not brilliant enough to construct a story this fantastic. Suzanne Collins, thankfully, is,
KATNISS POV
The war is done. Payne is President, the leader that will clean up the mess of our world. Peeta still struggles with his memories and I am stuck with the ghosts of mine. They scream at me at night. All those I have kill with only my name. All those have died for the sake of my damned name. I go out to hunt the whispers follow. I come home before sunset. Haymitch drinks away his liver.
I still think of the Nightlock pill sometimes. I wouldn't consciously think of it. It would just be there in my head, whispering to me. I can still feel Peeta's hands around my neck. Sometimes I wish he finished me off. I'm sitting on the ledge where Gale and I would sit and he would talk, I would listen.
I head back. A root catches my foot and I trip. I sigh and I pick myself up but something catches my eye. Nightlock. Behind the trees, nestled under the roots. I gather a few in my hand. Finally my mind is silent. Every moment of the day, my mind whispers, thrums with noise but it's quiet now.
I can hear the birds, the wind. I hold them to my chest and imagine myself swallowing these meager berries. My back leans on to the tree and the back of my skull rubs on to the bark. Peace. Finally, I feel peace. I look up and the sky is blue and the clouds are so soft. I wish to see Prim and Rue and Finnick and father. I would give anything to see them again. I would offer up my life.
I wonder if Peeta would morn me. Or would he celebrate. He doesn't say but I know that his head is worse than what he says. But even now, Haymitch is right. I don't deserve him, even when he was trying to kill me. There must be someone somewhere needing a life to sacrifice. Mother would not be pleased if I died without a reason. I could help Gale with his bombs, help test them. Hopefully, I'll get caught in the crossfire. I store the berries in my pocket.
When I return home, I give Greasy Sae my hunting bag and return upstairs. The berries are still in my pocket but the whispers are back. As soon as I get the berries in my hand, the buzz is gone. I sigh in relief. My head is my own again.
It is morning and the Nightlock remains in my hands. But the buzzing is back. It seems louder. Sue calls me for breakfast. I place the berries beneath my pillow and I descend to the kitchen. Peeta is there with fresh bread. This is the first time I have seen him since the primrose incident. I paste a smile on my face and the whispers scratch at my brain. He eats with us. He and Greasy Sae make polite conversation where I would nod when cued. The whispers are growing louder and I want to scream.
I politely excuse myself and return to my room. The whispers have grown to yelling, screaming, and clawing inside my head. I desperately take the Nightlock and hold them in my hand but that does nothing and the pain grows. I keep my eyes closed tight, hoping I'll keep my sanity from leaking out of my eyes. I hold the berries to my chest. Nothing. Fear runs through me as I hold the berries to my lips. All is quiet.
No longer is there screaming and clawing. Silence sooths my aching brain. I breathe and it feels like I have been holding my breath for months. All my muscles relax one by one. I realize I have curled into myself, trying to make myself smaller. My back is against the headboard of the bed and my head is turned down facing my lap.
I open my eyes and my lap slowly comes into focus. It's like all those times I have woken up in some small alcove I would usually hide in. When I slowly move the berries away from my lips, the screaming returns. I panic and I squish one of the berries on my lips. I can feel the juice of it running against my lips.
A hand grabs my wrist and jerks the berries away from my lips. They splatter against the wall. My head is still quiet from the juice on my lips but when I look up, Peeta is standing above me. He looks so furious. I curl into myself a little more.
"What the hell are you doing?" His voice is hoarse with fury. The whispers start again. My hands start to shake. I need the berries back on my lips but I know that will not be enough anymore. Like how Haymitch needs more and more of that white liquor. I don't know how to answer him. He looks so angry. His face contorted with rage and his hand is bound to leave a dark bruise. I can't look away from his eyes. It's the same eyes I saw in our first Hunger Games. The eyes that shone with betrayal when he realized I drugged him. The eyes from my Peeta. The whispers grow louder. My arm is shaking.
"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING WITH THE NIGHTLOCK, KATNISS?" He's screaming at me now. He's probably been talking the whole time. Well, more yelling than talking but all I can do is blink. Slowly, the whispers grow and slowly I begin to shake. I'm watching Peeta watching me collapse completely into glass shards. The glue that once held me together disappears without a trace. Haymitch is at the foot of my bed. He seems concerned and a little inebriated. I wonder if he drinks for breakfast.
Louder and louder the buzz grows and harder and harder I shake. The yelling has stopped. Peeta stares at me and releases my wrist. The buzz now screams at me with full force. I think I stop breathing.
I lick my lips.
My lips where the berries have spread their venomous juice.
The voices disappear.
Finally.
Silence.
Peace.