A/N: Just something I thought of while I was in the shower. Song is Concrete Angel by Martina McBride. Slight alterations to the lyrics, but the message is the same.
She walks to school with the lunch she packed
Nobody knows what she's holding back
Katniss POV
I eat my pitiful lunch in silence. A couple mint leaves. Prim got the same thing. I'm sure other kids from the Seam would try to help us if they had anything to spare. But how could I let anyone know? They'd take us away from our mother, and Prim, poor, fragile little Prim, would just break. No one can know. No one can know that we are slowly starving, because my father isn't alive anymore.
He died only a few months ago, but already we are all decomposing, slowly wasting away. My mother does nothing. Does she love us at all? How can she, when she just sits there and watches her children starve, turn to nothing before her very eyes…
Wearing the same dress she wore yesterday
She hides her ribs with the linen and lace
I don't have any clothes that aren't completely filthy. None, except the one I'm wearing now. Which is what I wore the day before. And the day before that. And the day before that.
My clothes are good. They aren't horribly baggy, but they don't cling to me either. They don't show how much of a mess I've become. You can see all of my ribs. These clothes hide that.
The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask
In class, I don't offer anything. Ever. I just stare blankly, wanting to leave, dreading the moment I will have to go home and face my mother again.
My teacher walks by, looking at me, and for a moment I'm sure she knows my secret. I mean, she must have seen cases like me before. I slap on a neutral expression, trying not to show how much pain I'm in.
The teacher stares at my face for a fraction of a second longer, then continues scanning the room. In my mind, I let out a sigh of relief. She won't call me out for it today. I've protected Prim for one more day.
Or at least, I'd like to think I'm protecting her.
Bearing the burden of a secret storm
Sometimes she wishes she was never born
I can't stand to watch this. My mother is huddled up on her bed, like always. I have nothing to give myself and Prim to eat. Prim begs our mother to cook, wailing about how hungry she is. I can't stand to see Prim this way. I'm the only one I know who has to go through this. And I can't confide in anybody.
I have to take matters into my own hands. Standing shakily, I grab some old baby clothes of Prim's. Taking them in my hands, I step out into the pouring rain. I debate on whether I should go to the Hob, but I haven't been there since my father died. I'm too scared to go without him.
Gritting my teeth, I head to the merchant section, where every single person slams their doors in my face.
If I were just never born, things would be so much easier. Why did my mother have to be so cruel to give me life?
Stumbling towards the bakery, the smell of bread is like a drug to me. I eagerly go through the bins, but they have just been emptied. Sighing, I am about to close the lid when the baker's wife comes out, screaming at me. I scamper away, but I don't manage to get farther than the apple tree in her backyard.
So I sit there, waiting for death.
Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
Peeta's POV
She sits in the shade of our tree. The girl I love, slowly turning to skin and bones in front of me. She is dripping wet from the rain, and the wind blows her hair around her sunken face.
Katniss can't survive on her own. I can see that. So I make the most dangerous move of my life.
Pretending to trip, I toss the two loaves of bread in my hand into the fire. I quickly use the tongs to grab them out, but they are burned. My mother sees, then grabs the tongs and hits me across the face with them. I fall to the floor, where she starts yelling at me to feed the bread to the pig.
I stumble outside, where Katniss is still under the tree. Pretending to feed the pig, I hear my mother rush to help a customer. And then I toss the bread in Katniss' direction.
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved
Concrete Angel
Katniss POV
The bread lands in my lap. Peeta Mellark, the boy I have always admired from afar, has chosen to help me. Maybe he can be my saving grace…
"Wait!" I yell. He turns his head towards me immediately. "Don't I get a chance to thank you?" I ask. Peeta shakes his head.
"I've been wanting to help you," he says staring at the ground. "This was the perfect opportunity."
He looks at me, and something passes between us. Unaware of what I'm doing, I press my lips to his.
Somebody cries in the middle of the night
The neighbors hear but they turn out the lights
Two fragile souls caught in the hands of fate
When morning comes it'll be too late
Peeta's POV
She's kissing me. I've wanted to know what Katniss' lips would feel like since I was five, and now I finally get the chance.
But my bliss can't last. I hear a scream from the doorway. My mother is running toward us, the tongs in her hand again.
I can't let her hurt Katniss. As my own mother is screaming profanity about the Seam, her arms rises to hit Katniss, but I intercept the tongs with my own body.
I fall to the ground. Katniss leans next to me, but my mother catches her with the next swing. Both of us fall onto each other, taking the hits one by one.
"I love you," I whisper to Katniss. There is so much more I want to say, but through my pain I can't.
"I love you too," she whispers back. With that, we take our final breaths. My mother has done her job too well.
Through the wind and the rain
They stand hard as a stone
In the world that they can't rise above
But their dreams give them wings
And they fly to a place where they're loved
Concrete Angels
Katniss POV
Peeta blocks the tongs that were aimed toward me with his own body. I watch in horror as he falls to the ground. I lay down next to him, and this time, the tongs find their original mark.
Pure pain. Peeta and I each take the tongs blow, too weak to defend ourselves. For a moment, I allow myself to live in things that should have happened, but never will because of this witch. A life with Peeta.
He turns toward me, his head caked in blood. "I love you," he whispers. Through my pain, I can barely open my mouth, but I just manage to form the words. "I love you too," I whisper back.
And with that, I lay across his chest, as we take our final breaths.
Their statues stand in a shaded place
An angel girl with an upturned face
Their names are written on a polished rock
Two broken hearts that the world forgot
No one sees these tombs anymore. Not the families of the young boy and girl, or their nonexistent friends. No one remembers them after they pass. No one remembers why they died so young.
Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams giver her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved
Concrete Angel
Prim's POV
With Katniss gone, there is no one to take care of me. My mother is more unreachable than ever.
As I crawl into my bed that night, I become lost in a dream. Katniss is there, and my father stands behind her. Katniss is holding hands with the merchant boy she was found dead with, Peeta Mellark. She keeps looking up at him shyly, then turns to hug me. My father takes me in his arms as well.
"Welcome home, my girl," he whispers.
And with the final act of mercy, life releases its cruel grip on me, allowing me to stay in my dream forever.
A/N: Well, that was much more depressing than I intended it to be. Prim wasn't supposed to die… But I kind of turned it slightly, maybe, fractionally happy at the end. Kind of. Well, thus concludes my first song-fic. R&R please, and you become my new best friend.
~MJ272