I submerge myself into the warm bathwater once more.
It feels nice under the surface. It drowns out all the sounds of life. The sounds that remind me everyone else is moving on while I am left here, broken and scarred.
I don't come up for air because when I am down here, I can forget. I can close my eyes and not see the bloodied images before my eyes. Even without the air, I can breathe.
I should come up now. I should come up and breathe. I don't want to. I want to stay here forever. I don't mind the aching in my chest from the lack of oxygen. I prefer it over the numbness that hits some nights. Other nights I wish I were numb because it hurts so much. I can't explain it. It hurts so much I don't know how I live through it.
I force myself up and gulp in the air. I regret it because now I can hear their screams again. The final voices before everyone died.
I can see the flames engulfing my sister.
I bite down on my own fist to prevent the scream. I bite down until I can taste the blood. After that, I heft myself out of the bath. I quickly dry off and dress while making sure I don't see myself in the mirror. It would just be one more reminder.
When I go downstairs, Peeta is already there speaking softly with Greasy Sae. I nod my hello and sit down at the table, with Peeta trailing after. He keeps talking with Sae, but I don't listen. Instead, I just push the food around the plate in front of me.
"Katniss? You need to eat." Peeta's words suddenly break me from my trance. I realize he must have been saying this for some time they way they both look at me, expectantly.
I manage to swallow a few bites as they watch me. I guess I appeased them, because they stop staring at me. I don't eat anymore after that.
Greasy Sae leaves soon after, but Peeta stays. Sometimes he goes, but today he didn't. I begin to pull out the book, assuming that is what he wanted, but he stops me.
"No, Katniss, we need to talk."
Maybe he finally realized he should give up on me. That he should have a long time ago. I meet his gaze and nod, following him into the living room and setting myself down on the couch.
"You can't keep doing this to yourself, Katniss. You're withering away."
I don't respond. There is nothing I can respond with. I just lock my eyes onto his. The blue is swimming with concern, and I want so badly to look away, but I force myself to keep looking.
He sighs and shakes his head. "Katniss, please, talk to me," he pleads.
What can I say? I don't want to talk, but Peeta deserves it.
"What do you want me to say?" I whisper.
"It isn't that I want you to say something…I just…I want you to be happy."
"I can't. I don't know how."
"Let me help."
"Nothing will help."
"Let me try."
I bite my lip and consider this. What could it hurt? I don't think it will help, but maybe it will help Peeta.
"Okay."
"That means you have to talk to me."
"I am."
"No, you have to tell me things."
"Oh. Okay. I'll try. For you."
"Don't do it for me. Do it for yourself."
"But I don't deserve it. You do."
He sighs once more and wraps his arms around me. I pull away at first, but it feels good, I think. It feels good to be in Peeta's arms. So I let him. I let him believe he is holding me together. Maybe he is, in a way. It doesn't really matter. I will always be broken.
I didn't realize how much I had yearned for human touch, but now that Peeta is holding onto me, I wonder why I let it take so long.
I look up and see Peeta has been crying. It leaves me with another terrible feeling- guilt. I deserve the suffering I have, but Peeta deserves every good thing.
"Maybe…maybe you should go." I say, not wanting him to leave, but not wanting to see him cry, either. I am too weak for that.
He nods and starts to leave, but I grab his arm. What am I doing? I don't know. One moment, I am wanting Peeta to leave. The next, I am wanting Peeta to stay. I am even more of a mess than I thought.
"Wait. Stay? Please?" I ask, and then trail off into an apology.
"Really?" He asks, surprised. I nod. "Of course, I'll stay."
I can't decide if I am more relieved or more anxious now. I make my way upstairs with him and climb into bed. He looks hesitant, like I will kick him out any second, which I almost want to do, but I don't think I can face another night alone. Soon, though, his arms are holding me like they did on the train. I notice it takes me less long to fall asleep tonight.
I wake up screaming, still, like every night, and when Peeta tries to comfort me, I am confused. At first, I am yelling at him and trying to get away from him until the daze of sleep passes.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks.
"No." At least I am being honest.
"Okay. When you are ready." At least he is smarter than the press me.
"Thank you."
I listen to his breathing until he falls back asleep. I can feel the anxiety rising in me. I want to run out right now. I want to scream at Peeta to leave. I want to ask him why he would bother with me. I want to not want these things.
I slowly move myself from under Peeta's arm. He doesn't wake, luckily.
I begin pacing the room. It's a good think I still have silent feet. There are so many thoughts swirling around in my head, I begin to feel physically dizzy. It gets so bad I have to dash to the bathroom where I release what little food I had eaten. Then it becomes those painful dry heaves where your body is writhing and you can't control it. I soon realize Peeta is in there, asking me if I am okay, petting my hair, and trying to do what he can to help, but it's over.
"Are you okay? What happened?" He asks.
"I'm fi-" I begin, but then I am sobbing. I can't control it. I can't control anything I do anymore, and I hate it. I hate everything about myself. The only good part of me is Peeta, and I can't really claim Peeta to be a part of me. He is just some poor soul helping a girl he shouldn't be.
My body is shaking again, only differently now. I try to control myself, but I think I just lose it even more.
When Peeta finally calms me down, I am too weak to even make it back to my bed, which is just one more thing to hate. Peeta carries me back, and I wonder how he is still so strong. He lays me down and tucks me back in. I want to protest, but I can't find my voice. So I fall asleep with Peeta stroking my hair.
When I wake up, Peeta is gone. I am glad, except, not really. I want to be alone, to suffer in silence on my own, to not bring anyone else into my living hell. But I also want to have someone to turn to.
I feel disgusting after last night, so I draw myself another bath. My movements are slow and lethargic, but they always are now. I do not feel the release of nerves when I enter the bath today. Usually, there is a small release of tension, if only for a moment. So I plunge myself into the depths.
I stay there longer today. The feeling of not being able to breathe is welcome today. I don't know why. I feel at home here, in my warm watery abode. They water can push away the sounds of every thing.
Then suddenly, they come back. No, they can't be back. The nightmares that usually leave me when I am here. I force myself to stay down. They have to leave. I need a break. But they are still there. I can see everyone I love, and their terrible deaths. I see Snow and Coin coming back to get the few that lived. I see the bloodied and broken bodies floating in the water with me. I want to scream, but I can't. So I stay down.
My lungs are begging me to go up, but I force myself to become a dead weight, and slowly the images begin to fade. This is what I need. I need to stay here. The screaming in my chest pushes all the other thoughts away. I ignore the screams for air.
I am not sure what I am doing anymore. Surely, I cannot die from this, so why does it matter. Once I loose consciousness, I will float back up, and be able to breathe again…right? I suppose something could go wrong, but I find myself not caring. I cannot go up. I need to be here. I am meant to be here.
I shouldn't be doing this. Why am I? What is keeping me here? Now I feel as if I cannot come back up. The water is too strong. I don't want this. I can't sit up. I want to scream, but I can't.
So I let the darkness take me.