Sometimes I get glimpses of what could (and should) have been. A life where she never went into the Hunger Games and our lives took their normal path of fate before one simple slip of paper with the worst name possible stuck to the perfectly manicured fingers of a bubbly, silly, Capitolite who actually thought that it was a wonderful day. I would mine during the day but it wasn't as bad in the shadows and darkness because I had bright and beautiful things to come home to in our own Seam house. But not material things, no.
I had a beautiful wife who finally gave in after I expressed my feelings after two and a half years the day of her last reaping when we knew for sure we were both safe, that we could no longer volunteer for our siblings but we ourselves had escaped the Capitol's plastic and colorful claws of entertainment. She was wary at first of course but somehow she finally gave in. I don't know the details because it's only dimly lit in my mind but it happened. We did our toasting and eventually had children even if she never wanted them but it happens sometimes. They were my world and I came home every night dusty and dirty but with a smile on my face and they all had smiles and hugs and kisses for me. We were poor yes, but we were happy. We still hunted so we were far better off than most. We loved hunting; it was almost as much for enjoyment and rejuvenation than for the need of the food and money that came from selling the game at the Hob.
But glimpses is all I get and all I'll ever get. I haven't seen or talked to her in years, too long to count. Sometimes I wish I had but I know it's pointless. It's one of the few bad things about knowing each other so well like we did. I know that even if it wasn't my bomb, didn't have anything at all to do with me she would still not get the connection out of her head. I had become the dark shadow that took away her light because I cared about making a difference in Panem at any cost. I didn't play by the rules; there were no rules in war. But she did. She was better than me, though if we had done it her way I would doubt that we would all be alive and Panem would have been freed like it had been. But I've paid the price, haven't I?
Her light haunts me every night, dancing in and out of the shadows of my mind, taking control of me and the crushing guilt and sadness of the reason my glimpses will only stay dreams leads me to drink. I despised Haymitch, thought he was a stupid drunk ass all my life. I feel his pain now. Alcohol may not be the answer to everything, but at least it takes away the pain and guilt if only for a while. At least that light stays in the shadows as my mind goes with it.
And her…she haunts me day and night, not even alcohol can take that away. But really how could it when someone is such a part of you for so long? She was my second shadow, another half of me that has been missing all this time. You can't very well forget half of you, it's not physically possible. Since she's not part of my actual shadow anymore she has pranced in and out of the shadows of my mind constantly and overshadowed practically every thought. Everytime I look at another girl it's as if she immediately takes over my mind, makes me feel guilty for looking because I love her. But she doesn't love me; not anymore if she ever did. When I try to hunt and I hit an animal with an arrow I can almost hear her voice, telling me that I never quite got the hang of it, I can never get it in the eye every single fucking time. So instead of eating the game I crave instead of chicken or beef I sell it because I can't bear to eat that damn rabbit because she will watch me at the dinner table eating it all by myself and I'll lose my appetite. Don't even get me started on if it's a squirrel…half the time I can swear I smell bakery bread and cringe while I see her smile, a ring on her finger. No if it's a squirrel the most I do is shoot it again for good measure, take out my arrows and leave it to rot.
Why can't she just leave me alone? It's been years and she still hasn't faded in the least. It's almost like she's here in District 2 where I practically ran away. Is that it? When I asked her all those years ago on that fateful morning to run away with me I hadn't meant a different district. I meant the two of us in the woods like we were meant to be. No, just I had to run away and she stayed behind in District 12, our real home. I ran away from home and never went back because I can't face her. I don't have to anyway, she never left.
The shadows of my mind won't let her and just for once I wish I could join them. Fantasies have their place in the deepest pits because in the dark anything can exist. Anything at all. Yes, our shadows can become one again in the darkest depths. Our shadows were always one any way.
Until one little bomb tore them apart, and one shadow, one soul, one heart became two. And somehow I don't see them mending together ever.
So maybe Haymitch was right; at least in the depths of the alcoholic swirls of blankness one can pretend. Pretending is all I have left when the shadows come to play.