(A/N – I do not own the characters or The Hunger Games in any way, all rights are reserved to Suzanne Collins.)
Far From Finished
Katniss' P.O.V.
We sit in a mutual silence as the train continues down the now ending track towards district 12. I keep myself to myself, sitting numbly on the kitchen's table chair as I watch the world fly by. Peeta is sat to the right opposite me, none of us have the spirit to talk; I, for one, do not even have the spirit to breathe anymore.
Haymitch sits next to Peeta, a bottle of alcohol in his shaking right hand. I wish now I took his offer up, to have a drink. It would have helped ease the horrors. It would help me forget, but that's not an option now.
"At least it's over now, hey," Effie Trinket says, adjusting her pink wig of curls as she fills her coffee cup up.
Haymitch snorts, white spirit splatters across the wooden table from the bottle he still holds lazily in his shaking hand. "It's over you say?" He retorts, bitterly. "Believe me, Effie. This is far from finished."
Peeta shoots me a look, his head lifting so slightly you'd have missed it if you'd blinked. I keep my straight face, ignoring his gesture and concentrate on my hands instead.
"Tell me when this train decides to stop," I mutter, getting up and shoving the kitchen chair roughly under its wooden counterpart.
"But we're nearly there, Katniss," Effie cuts off, a cup of coffee now placed on the table where I was previously sat.
I let a sadistic smile curve my lips before I answer. "Maybe we are. I would like to, however, spend some time alone. Or is that banned by the Capitol now as well?" The Avox girl stood mutely by the doorway stumbling backwards as the words leave my tight lips. Haymitch copies her, a dark glint shining in his eyes now as he miraculously places the bottle down before stumbling towards me, a finger pointing at me in accusation.
"You've already caused enough trouble, girl," he spits venomously. "Go!"
"Gladly," I spit back, hitting the coffee to the floor before storming off to my room, now turned prison cell. I throw myself viciously upon the soft bed, angry tears threatening to spill. I grab the nearest pillow before burrowing under the covers completely, allowing my muffled screams to leave my parched throat.
I scream until it's merely a whimper before sleep wraps its arms around me. Images follow soon after. Nightmares. I'm victim to nightmares.
Prim's face fills my thoughts and as I try to catch her in my arms, I'm suddenly knelt on the floor again, holding Rue as she slips away from me. As I hunt with Gale, I take a clean shot at the wild turkey unaware of my presence. I approach it with care before retreating suddenly. I trip over a root, kicked up by other tributes that have already run for their lives away from me. Marvel, the boy from district 1, lies in a pool of his own blood, my arrow still clasped in his limp fist. I can hear Gale's voice trying to bring me back to the present, but I turn and Gale disappears, the muttations taking his place. But now, now they have his eyes, and I try to out run him but I don't.
I wake, screaming as sweat pours down my face and mats my hair. The door opens and through the blur of my haunting dreams, Peeta walks in. Without any words between us, he takes me in his arms and strokes my hair while kissing my head softly. And that feeling happens again, the one I felt in the cave.
"Don't leave," I splutter, my hands tightening on his arms.
He smiles into my hair, but responds in a serious tone. "Nightmare?" He asks.
"Nightmare," I agree, shivering.
I dare not go to sleep again, so I stare out the windows, watching in anticipation as the sun sets beyond the horizon. I know we're nearly home.
"What do you think it's going to be like now?" I whisper, unsure why I choose now to be nice to the face of my last hope.
Peeta sighs, his fingers still combing through the hair that has fallen from my braid. "Different," he replies, almost distantly.
"I don't want to go back," I admit shamefully. "I don't want to see my family's anticipating faces as I step onto the platform, knowing that while they have me back I've killed someone else's child." I tilt my head back and Peeta's eyes are hard.
"It's the Capitol's fault," he seethes, his hands now clenching around my own. "They made us animals, killers. I will never forgive them."
His words hit me, but I choose to keep pokerfaced, suddenly taking interest in the shapes now visible from the decreasing train speed. The brakes throw us around in a mess of limbs before it abruptly stops.
And I can finally see them; mother, Prim and... Gale?
How am I even going to start explaining what he saw?
A/N – A first Hunger Games one-shot! I hope you enjoyed it. All I can say, is that writing in the present tense while in first person, is hard!
Anyways, I hope you liked it. If you did please review!
Thanks, Katie1995. :)