The Special Two

by adreamofadandelioninthespring

She sought comfort in the wolves that appeared in her dreams since her father's death. But when the wolves start howling, she starts drifting further away, locking herself away from the world because she feels she doesn't deserve the sunshine rays. For Prompts in Panem challenge on Tumbler, Howls.

Submission for day for Prompts in Panem challenge on Tumblr.

Find me on Tumblr – Herainab

…

The winds howls ferociously outside. Almost like a long, eerie howl. A long howl that fills my nightmares and wakes me, screaming, competing against the sound of the howls that haunt my dreams.

The shades are drawn, darkness fills my room. I don't deserve the sunshine's rays. The darkness helps until the whisky wears away.

The old gruff neighbour from next door supplies me with bottles of the stuff.

"It's the only way to get through it."

And he's right, the whisky helps for the moment. It helps until it wears away and then I'm left with my own conscious. My own thoughts and demons. I'm left to ponder the world and all the wrongs I've done.

And I've done a lot of wrongs.

So I chose to draw the curtains. Draw the world away and pretend there's no outside world. A world that goes on as if nothing happened. As if everything is right and beautiful. Like the grass grows green and the flowers bloom with the springtime warmth. There's beauty outside but all I see inside is the ugly. All I breathe is the ugly.

The world doesn't deserve me. Doesn't deserve to watch me pass by and inflict on their happiness. The lock on my door, the drawn curtains conceal the truth within the four walls. They circle above my head, around my body and attack me when the whisky wears away. They nag and harass me. They pick fun and remind me of the pain when I stand in front of the mirror.

And I don't see myself. I see a monster. A mutt. A wolf like mutt that invades my dreams and howls eerily, haunting my dreams.

All I see are my flaws and my isolation becomes familiar.

I remember why I've locked myself inside and I become lonelier.

The knocks on the door, the phone calls. Ignored. The calling of my name.

I pretend I don't hear them. I don't want to face the world.

Not yet.

…

His love was like poison, coursing through my veins, to the tips of my fingers and toes and my being. He loved me ferociously and he had me hooked.

He was kind hearted. Gentle. Passionate. Intriguing.

And he only had eyes on me.

He broke hearts and turned girls green with jealousy but he didn't notice them.

He was the new boy to school in grade 9. He came from the city, with his charm and good looks. He was an artist, pleasing the art teacher with his incredible talent. He was the baker's son. He excelled in home economics. He created baking masterpieces. He joined the wrestling team. He made friends with the whole grade. He turned everything he touched gold and his smile went on for days. He was smart. He helped everyone he could. He was a breath of fresh air.

But he hide secrets. Dark secrets. Pain and scars. He hid the abuse he suffered as a young boy. He hid the reason why he truly moved from the city. He masked the pain behind that toothy smile, the beautiful ocean eyes and the storytelling of his words.

He got a second chance to live a life where no one knew his story. Where pain subsided and disappeared. Like a fairy tale, he was free to live a life he wanted without demons and wild like creatures haunting him every day. He was free from the mother who had locked him up, abused him and told to never cry wolf.

And in my eyes, I couldn't understand why someone like him could be treated the way he was treated. He was a rare treasure, one you'd want to lock up and keep for yourself. Were you'd handle it with care and appreciate the rarity of this treasure. You'd love it and keep it by your side forever.

It was in the middle of grade 9 when he started. He strode through school. I was intrigued. I watched him carefully, he followed behind his father and brother in grade 11. They were blond beauties and I could already see the girls fawning and staring, hoping to be noticed by the boys.

He was introduced in the first period and became a saviour. He answered questions, engaged in appropriate discussions and enchanted us all with his words and charm. Even when he was more interested in the sketching in his workbook he still managed to know what Ms Trinket was talking about. He breezed through our classes. He made friends quickly and had already found his clique within the popular crowd of our grade.

But I noticed the way his eyes searched the quad in search of something or someone.

And that someone was me.

He hadn't stopped staring since music in second period when he heard me singing along to the piano piece Madge was playing. His eyes became glued and that's where they remained.

His eyes found me. Madge and I pressed up against the trunk of the tree sharing our lunch. We mostly got through lunches silent. She'd be engrossed in a book. I'd make daisy chains or write. And his eyes held contact with me. I became his prey, he watched me and never looked away. But I did.

But he never said a thing.

I followed him home from school. He kicking a loose stone along the pavement. There was a gap between us. Other kids walked in that gap but I was soon enchanted by this boy. I was soon searching for him in the quads and the hallways. I walked closer to him of an afternoon. He always stopped at the bakery but I felt his eyes on me as I walked on home.

And on a day when Madge was away we were partnered together for home economics and music.

We barely spoke a word in home economics but we worked as a team creating a beautiful batch of cupcakes that I let him ice and decorate.

Then in music class he blew me away with his talent of playing the guitar. We spoke our first words to each other and he asked if we could walk home together.

And every day after we walked home together. And something formed deep within me. Something I never expected, especially after the death of my father. I chose to not let anyone in after his death but Peeta, he found a way to break down the barriers and edge his way closer. Promised me love and life and I gradually accepted the arms he held open for me and let him become part of my life.

…

I didn't know what time of day it was. I didn't know what day it was. What month or even what year.

The person staring back at me, I hardly recognised her. Her body bare. Her hair wild and eyes sunken. Her skin looked fragile, stretched over the bones that stuck out of her frame. Her fire was burnt out. Her life uncontrollable. She's not the girl he fell in love with. She doesn't even feel like Katniss Everdeen.

Who am I?

A soft knocking sounded.

"Katniss, let me in. It's been weeks. I'm worried about you." He's voice sounds behind the door. "Please." He pleads.

But I turn my back to him. I can't face him. I can't face the world.

"I've left some food for you. You need to eat Katniss."

I hear him walk away and I sink to the ground. Broken glass covers the ground but I don't care.

I won't feel the pain anyway.

…

His fingers trace the outline of my spine. His face inches from mine on the pillow we share.

Our breathing was still ragged, our bones weak. Our hearts open and vulnerable.

We had just showed each other a side we never dreamed to share. We had gotten lost under each other's kisses and touches. Words of love and lost.

He opened up to me. I opened up to him.

He told me about his mother. The scars that he lived with, emotionally and physically. How he gets through the nightmares of his torture. The distance between him and his brothers. And the resentment towards his father who took years to step up and swoop in, saving his sons from their mother. How he gets through the pain and the big dreams he has.

I told him of my father. His death. My mother who hardly functions and the relative I had never met who takes care of us. My sister who cries herself to sleep most nights and wakes screaming for our father to run. The nightmares and the wolves that appear. The classmates that terrorise my dreams. How it's hard to let people in because I find it hard to trust people.

But I told him I was sure I loved him as we lay in his twin sized bed. We had laid together a lot since our relationship blossomed. At first, it was innocent. His arms engulfing me and holding me. Then eventually hands and lips wandered. Hands touching over our clothing. Hands exploring beneath our clothing. Slowly our clothes coming off, our bare bodies becoming familiar with each other. The scars and marks of our life exposed to each other. Lips and fingers tracing the marks.

Then eventually we bared all to each other. Our hearts were open and our souls imbedded themselves into each other. His love coursed through my veins, patching the hole in my heart and becoming someone I couldn't live without.

I became reminded of love. Of a life that could be good despite the pain of the past.

And I never imagined I'd be good enough for anyone, ever.

"I'm going to marry you Katniss. I'm never going to leave you alone. I'm going to be here for you forever my love."

…

My body slowly sank into the bath. The hot water scalding my skin. But I couldn't feel it. I couldn't feel pain. I was too numb. Too lost.

And the truth of it all, came like shivers, like waves of darkness, pulling me under and engulfing my body, making me helpless and vulnerable to the deep dark world of emotions.

And my body helplessly sank lower, my hands slipping over the edge that held me up. It brought my body crashing to the bottom, the water weighing me down and keeping me captive to the unknown darkness and hostage to the overwhelming grief and howls of despair.

But I didn't fight it. I let the howls deafen me. The grief, weigh me down.

But something flicked and I held my hand up desperately trying to reach for the edge, for the light, trying to leave the darkness that was weighing me down. Everything I tried failed. Every moment pulled me deeper down and I began suffocating and my lungs burned as I held my breath, saving every ounce of energy if I ever resurfaced.

…

I find him on the back porch, head down as he focuses on his sketching.

We were graduated from high school and summer was here. I was to be employed full time at the music store downtown, saving money for college. Peeta was still unsure where he wanted to go in life. So he was taking on more responsibilities at the bakery and learning what it took to be a businessman when the summer was over. He still drew in his spare time and took me driving in his car.

We found little hidden wonders of our town and called it our own. We went swimming late at night in the rivers and stargazed in the meadow until the sun started to rise.

We became passionate lovers and spent more time together than with anyone else. We were young and reckless and only needed each other.

Summer nights we spent partying and drinking with classmates. We kissed around bonfires, lay in the tray of his pickup truck getting lost in each other while the world went by. We experimented and made the most of our youth before the real world took us by the hand and took away the freedom of childhood and teenage years.

We still spent time with Prim, taking her to the city or the movies. Going camping or spending time at home together.

She'd sleep in a tent next to ours with her best friend. Peeta and I would be up all night making love.

We spent most nights making love. Even mornings, as the pale light seeped through our curtains, we'd rouse each other and start the day feeling the other lose themselves before we'd make the most of our days again.

Peeta and I would talk of our future. He would remind me he wanted to marry me every day.

And when the summer past and our jobs took over our lives we still connected at the end of the day more passionately than ever and made up for the lost hours. And as we saved our money and talked more of our future, we moved in together. A small two bedroom house that we rented. It was small but all we needed.

We were already grown-ups. Our lives forcing us to become responsible. We had faced the harsh realities of the real world too young and our childhoods long forgotten.

But Peeta reminded me we could still act as children. We could still have tickle fights. Dance in our underwear. Build blanket forts. Swing off the rope into the river. Laugh as loud as possible. Tell silly jokes. We still had that little bit of our childhood inside of us. We brought the child out of each other and saw the world with glasses that shielded us from the pain and hardships of life.

And we continued to wear those glasses and forgot about the real world when it was all too late.

…

I held my hand up desperately trying to reach for the edge, for the light, trying to leave the darkness that was weighing me down. Everything I tried failed. Every movement pulled me deeper down and I began suffocating and my lungs burned as I held my breath, saving every ounce of energy if I ever resurfaced.

The realisation of it, the truth of it, came like shivers, like waves of darkness. Loss brought me under. Loss took my voice. Loss stole my contest and loss most importantly destroyed everything that I believed in and I believed the darkness was my best choice to continue on.

…

Peeta proposed to me on our fifth anniversary. Our special places lead me on a scavenger hunt, until I found him on one knee in the middle of the meadow. The sun was starting to set. His favourite colours filling the skies. The meadow starting to bloom after a short winter.

He was dressed in his tux, the one he wore to our senior prom. The one we were crowned king and queen.

I knew this would have happened. I knew, we were going to end up together and I knew he was planning on proposing to me but I didn't think it'd be so soon. And I'm surprised no one spilt the details of his plan. Everyone we knew was on board to make it as special as possible.

And it all started with the dandelion on his pillow this morning with a little note.

And while he kneels I can't help the flashing of my life. I see my future as I approach him. We're happy. We're surrounded by children. And lots of love.

Lots and lots of love.

No pain inflicts our children.

And when I reach him I let him speak.

"My love, there's so many things I want to say to you and you know how I feel about you. No words I could say now wouldn't mean any more than the words I have said in the past. I love you Katniss. And I knew, from that moment in music class, when I first heard you sing I was a goner. And I knew I would marry you. I went home and told my father that and he told me to never let me go because he regrets letting his love go. And here I am now, five years later in our favourite place. So I'm asking you, will you spend the rest of your life with me?"

I smiled at him. I felt the tears run down my cheeks. He still managed to make me lost for words after all these years together. He still found ways to make my knees go weak.

So I sunk to my knees in front of him and kissed him softly.

"I will. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

I'm sure his face would split in half with the smile he gave me as he slid the ring onto my finger.

He kissed me long and hard and when he pulled away, his cheeks were wet from the tears he shed.

I wipe them with my thumbs. "Hey, no need for these."

"You just made me the happiest man in the world." He tells me.

I kissed him again.

"So when are we getting married?" I asked.

"Whenever you're ready sweetheart."

The next morning, we were dressed in our finest clothes. Peeta's father closed the bakery. Prim was my maid of honour. We married in city hall and celebrated with our family and friends that night in our tiny two bedroom house and had an extravagant cake Peeta's father created that afternoon.

And when everyone went home, Peeta and I celebrated the union we had just made together. And came together for the first time as husband and wife.

Even with the distant sirens in the outside world, we were wrapped up in each other. The outside didn't matter at this time. We were happy and were wearing those glasses that made us oblivious to the pain and hardships of the world.

Peeta's mouth made a delicate promise, the heat of his breath on the inside of my thigh painting words of love and forever. He caught me in a moment and I never wanted him to leave the space between my thighs.

But the world came knocking and a policeman stood on the other side of the door with a grim look on his face.

"Ms Everdeen will you please come with us." He asks and I'm brought to 8 years ago when a policeman stood on our front stoop, asking for my mother to follow him.

And she didn't come home herself after that day.

And while Peeta and I dressed and followed the policeman.

We were aware that our honeymoon was over before it even began.

…

I had a dream the night before.

The theme has been reoccurring since my father's death. The wolf like mutt would always appear. And I always found comfort in them in my dreams. They would always remain silent until 6 weeks ago when they found their voice. When the howling became too much to hear and terrorised me. A howling that continues and continues until I wake screaming in terror.

I had always been fond of wolves. So had my father. I thought they were unique and beautiful. So when I was 18 Peeta's gift to me was a tattoo of a wolf, high on my right thigh. It was something Peeta would trace with his fingers when I curled my legs with his. He was mesmerised by the ink and placed gentle kisses to it when his mouth went exploring.

But my dream last night was filled with Clove, one of the girls in Prim's year. One of the girls with Prim the night of the death, the two of them having danced together some of the night.

Clove appeared, almost like a normal dream. Almost like a random dream you sometimes have. But mine turned into the reoccurring one. One where mutts haunted me.

She transformed into a wolf and no longer where the wolves comfort, they were my worst nightmare. She tossed her head back and let out a long eerie howl that was picked up by other mutts.

It frightened me, woke me up, shaking in a cold sweat and I vowed to not fall asleep, especially with wolves haunting my sleep. I started to claw at my thigh tattoo and dread the piece of art that was tattooed on my skin.

A reminder of my fears and nightmares.

…

The car ride was torture. Peeta drove us silently and the sun was yet to rise.

They called it the four o'clock knock. A knock the officers usually did to inform a family about the passing of a loved one. The knock usually occurred after the death of a young person after a motor accident.

But they say you know, the minute you open the door, seeing an officer standing on the other side of the door at 4am. You look in their eyes and know. Why else would they be there at that time in the morning.

And I never imagined in my entire life to receive a four o'clock knock.

The officer told us to follow him downtown and we did. But instead of turning right to the station we went left, towards the hospital.

Peeta parked the car and we followed the officer inside the hospital. A nurse soon leading us through the ER and through corridors and doors.

Peeta tensed when we were walked through the last door. I didn't understand why until the officer spoke.

"We need you to identify the bodies Ms Everdeen."

"What?" I choked out.

"There's been a double murder Ms Everdeen, at your mother's home. We need you to identify the bodies for our records."

"Do we have to do this?" Peeta asks.

"I'm sorry, we do." The officer tells Peeta. "You can go in there with her."

I'm weightless. My knees are threatening to buckle underneath me at the thought that there's been a murder at my old family home. But Peeta holds me up with his strong hold.

He holds me as we walk into the morgue. The doctor pulling the covers down of the first body.

I react before I see past the blonde hair the victim has. I become hysterical. I thrash and scream in Peeta's arms.

"Ms Everdeen, please identify the body for us." The officer pushes.

"Please don't make her do this." Peeta pleads. "Let me."

"You don't have the authority."

"She's my wife. Please. Let me."

I peak my way out of the leather jacket Peeta wears. The blonde hair is stained with blood. The face is lifeless and blue.

"For the records, is this Lilian Everdeen?"

"Yes, that's Lilian Everdeen." Peeta confirms and I bury my face further into the fabric of his jacket.

I hear shuffling and Peeta holds me, presses me to his body. I can feel the gasp of disappear leave his body. Feel the sharp exhale.

"For the record, can you please confirm that this is Primrose Everdeen?"

I mummer into Peeta's chest, loud sobs escaping my mouth. Tears falling into Peeta's jacket. I can't hear anything. The world becomes silent and I think about an hour before, I think about the whole day. The marriage, the celebration, the party and the wide smile on my sister's face as we danced together on the makeshift dancefloor. The beaming laughter bubbling out of her mouth. The parting words we shared.

"You're so lucky Katniss. I hope one day, I find myself someone as loving and caring as Peeta."

"You will little duck. Someone would be a fool to not fall in love with you. You never know, he could be here already." I tell her. "I know Rory's been looking at you all night. You should give him a chance."

She smiles her wide smile. "He's like a brother to me."

"But he knows you deep down in your soul." I say, pointing to her heart. "And that's all you need. Someone who will bare their soul to you, make you drunk on their love and realise you can't live without them. Someone who loves you wholeheartedly and unconditionally. Someone who pledges to marry you from day one. Rory could be that person for you."

She steals a glance at him and smiles back at me. "I'll talk to him."

"Who knows, he might be your Peeta."

"I love you Katniss. I'm so glad you have found happiness." She hugs me. "When can I expect to become an aunt?"

I chuckle. "Oh, give us time to settle in."

"Will it be soon?"

"Who knows? We're still young."

"Night Katniss."

"Night Little Duck."

I don't comprehend what has happened, where I am, or who I am.

Peeta is at my bedside. I'm in a hospital bed. IVs and wires connected to my body.

"They had to give you a sedative." He whispers to me. "And they wanted to monitor you." I watch the emotion flood his eyes. "I'm so sorry Katniss. I'm truly sorry."

He's arm enclose me into his warmth and he holds me. I'm paralysed. I'm numb.

And the wolves begin their howling.

…

The water settled above my body. I stopped seeking for help and accepted the fate I was leading to.

I had vowed to myself I'd never get lost in grief or my emotions. I'd never fade away under the bed sheets and the darkness of a bedroom that smelt stale and old.

I vowed it for Prim. Vowed to be there for her no matter the consequences. No matter what crap I was going through.

But there was no Prim. No one to be strong for.

Peeta didn't need me. Or the shell of what I was becoming. Even if he promised to love me even through the darkness. Through the nightminds he called them.

But it was better to let the howling haunt me and the dark clouds follow me everywhere.

Let the water drown me. I found comfort in being gone from the world that had caused me so much pain. To be wrapped up in my father's arms. To hear him sing old country songs to the birds and teach me everything he knew.

To seek comfort in my mother's touch. To see that smile I remember before my father died. The one that would light up a room and comfort me after a bad dream.

And Prim. My sweet little Primrose. Who still dreamt of her prince coming and sweeping her up. Carrying her away to a castle where she'd live a happy life. The innocence of my little sister who still smiled and laughed. Who liked to hang out of the window of my car and sing badly and let the breeze blow through her hair. Who found greatness in the tiniest of things.

I felt two hands on my shoulders and they snatched me to the surface of the water and brought me back into the world, coughing and spluttering. I wiped my eyes and stared into the familiar ocean eyes of the thief who took away the darkness and brought me back into the light.

"You can't do this Katniss. Not now. You can't leave me. You promised me."

…

He helped me plan a funeral. But I couldn't bare talk about the logistics. His father took over the job of funeral planning.

I had just told him the little things. The song I wanted them to play. And how I wanted them cremated, just like my father had been. I wanted beautiful evening primroses on Prim's coffin and Lilies on my mothers.

The day of the funeral I got myself out of bed. I dressed in a yellow sundress and let my hair fall in waves down my back.

Peeta held my hand the whole day. Never letting me go.

The whole town turned out to farewell my sister and mother. The killer still on the run.

It was such a tragedy. The police believed it was a random attack. A break and enter gone wrong. My mother and sister disturbing them as they arrived home after our wedding.

Peeta spoke. My aunt spoke. Prim's closet school friends spoke. Hazell spoke.

They played the song I chose as the coffins were carried out. The Hawthorne and Mellark men carrying them to the waiting funeral cars. A song my mother and father used to sing to us. The same song they carried my father's body out to. Peeta stands close by as the cars drive away. He kisses my temple and lets me bury my head into his neck.

The local community hall holds the wake. Everyone flocks to eat and chat. They say their condolences and Peeta thanks them for me. He forces me to eat something.

Gale comes to sit with me in the garden just behind the community hall. He was on leave from his tour. Set to return back to Iraq in two weeks. We had barely shared a word in the last few years. I even watched him during my wedding. He wasn't happy with the arrangement, committing my life so young to someone. He was jealous. I knew that. But I'd never love Gale. It was too easy of an arrangement between us.

I loved Peeta.

And even with the pout Gale gives me I still love Peeta.

But I'm confused. The last week has been a whirlwind. Between interviews, funeral arrangements, grief and becoming a newlywed.

So I pity Gale at a moment of weakness. A lack of judgement and touch my lips to his. It's short but long enough for my husband to witness.

But Peeta doesn't scold me. He stands by my side as I let the guilt overwhelm me and we make an early exit. He doesn't say anything in the car ride. He doesn't say anything when we get home.

He just holds me in his arms that night and makes love to me when I ask him to.

Though that night the howling begins and despite having Peeta so close to me, I begin to slip away. Slip into my mind and let the howling take over.

I feel the distance set between Peeta and I and I lock myself away from the world.

Even my generous husband.

…

He lifted me from the bath and wrapped me in a fluffy towel. He towel dried my hair while I shivered from my spot on the toilet seat. The howling was becoming fainter. The black clouds drifting away slowly.

He changed the sheets on our bed. Dressed me in clean pyjamas and coaxed some food into me. He opened the curtains, cracked a window letting the howls escape into the fading daylight and brought the sounds of life back into the house. The sound of traffic. The sound of birds. The sound of people.

He let the toxins out. He let the world in. Reminding me that life goes on.

He carried me back to bed, this time not leaving me. He wasn't tempted to leave me alone ever again, in case I locked him out.

He pushed my hair away from my face, behind my ear and stared at me.

"I'm not letting you go Katniss. I want to be there for you. I told you I would be there for you, especially through the nightminds. The world you're in now doesn't have to be alone. I want to rise out of the nightminds and into the light at the end of the fight." He tells me.

He's silent for a moment and then he starts to sing. Sings the song we first played together in music years before.

'And we will only need each other, we'll bleed together,
Our hands will not be taught to hold another's,
'Cause we're the special two.
And we could only see each other, we'll breathe together,
These arms will not be taught to need another's,
'Cause we're the special two.'

I fall asleep to the lulling of his heartbeat. Our song playing through my mind. Relaxing me into his hold, his warmth and his love.

And it isn't the sound of howling that wakes me. It's the sound of white.

I peel myself from Peeta and follow the sound of white down the hallway to the living room.

I can almost feel her smile and breathe her light. And I feel close to her. Closer than I have in the passing six weeks. I've brought to the day we danced and laughed at my wedding. Where she asked if she'd be made an aunty. Where she planned to gather up the nerve and talk to Rory.

I find a photo album on the coffee table. I had yet to see this.

I flicked through the pages of photographs. Saw the smiles of my sister. Even my mother. The wide smile I sported. The first dance between Peeta and I, his lips close to my ear as he whispered in my ear.

"I can't wait to start a family with you. Have little chubby legged toddlers running around our feet. Their laughter echoing through the house. Their smiles warming our days."

And I had whispered back to him.

"Let's make a baby."

A brush of fingers run through my hair and I look up to see Peeta smiling at me. He kisses the top of my head and sinks down beside me, enveloping his arms around me and letting me bury my body into his as we flick through the photographs.

And I still his hand, grabbing a hold of it and bringing it rest on my stomach. I cover his hand with mine.

And the wolves stopped howling.

The sound of an infant's cries replace the howling.

And I've never felt happier in my entire life.