I followed my agent onto the jet and took my regular seat.
Ch. 1 Nightmares
"It's okay, I'm right here. No one's going to hurt you," I comforted, pulling her into my arms. She trembled against my chest as I ran my fingers through her dark hair. "Mom, I'll protect you."
"Thank you Gage," she says kissing my cheek, but I know that my promise is an empty one. How could her sixteen year old son ever keep her safe from something that even she didn't understand?
"What was it about this time?" I ask stretching out next to her on the bed.
"Ash falling like snow from the sky," she answered deep in thought. "I think Gale was there, but I couldn't reach him. Or maybe it was you Gage, you look exactly like him."
Even though I never knew him, the way my mom talked about Gale made me miss and love him. I fell asleep thinking about my dad and how much I hated the Capitol. I hated how I watched them take countless kids away forever without even trying to stop them, I hated how in district 12 no one tried to make anything out of themselves, and most of all I hated how they took Gale away from my mom.
I woke up early the next morning, leaving some breakfast on the table for my mom. The woods were eerily quiet as I went to check the snares. Of course we didn't need the food because of my mom's winnings, but I liked being outside the gate and fresh rabbit tastes better anyways.
As I walked along the path, I passed a patch of poinsettia flowers and my heart leaped into my throat. Bending down I felt the soft, red petal between my thumb and pointer finger. I always found it funny how her favorite color was red and that she even smelled like the flower she was named after. Taking one and stuffing it into my pocket, I continued.
When I finally made it back home, Chris was having tea with my mom. Even though he had helped raise me, I wasn't very fond of Chris. There was some weird connection between him and my mom that I could never quite figure out, and I didn't like it. My mom drummed her fingers on the sofa, something she does whenever she feels guilty and Chris had his jaw set.
"What's happening?" I ask glaring at Chris.
"Gage, would you go pick up of something from the Mellark's for me please," my mom asked, changing the subject.
"Yeah," I said uncomfortably. I didn't want to leave her alone with Chris, but I could tell by her expression that if I ignored her request she would cry.
Peeta invited me in with a warm smile, handing me a fresh cinnamon roll as we sat down at the kitchen table. "How have you been holding up?" he asks.
"Fine," I say but I don't ask him the same question because I already know his answer. Although he still paints and bakes and looks like he's moving on, I can see the changes that have taken their toll on him. His eyes don't dance the way they used to and his laugh changed, but at least he's trying to live on unlike Katniss who spends the days wasted or staring off into space.
I caught my mom doing that one time, after she mentored the 92nd Hunger Games. She made it through a whole bottle of liquor before I took it and she spent the night hurling in the bathroom. Afterwards, we didn't talk about it and I knew she would never explain her reasons to drink and block out the rest of the world, but I understood.
"Gage," Peeta said pulling me out of my thoughts. "There's something you need to know, something I'm not supposed to tell you."
"What is it about?" I asked wearily.
"Your mother."