Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where they strung up a man they say murdered three
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree
There is blood on his hands. Her eyes are wide with fear. He whispers only one word.
"Run."
The angry mob is getting closer, chanting his name, demanding retribution. She remains in place, stock still, paralyzed with fear. This time he shouts it at her.
"Run!"
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where the dead man called out for his love to flee
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree
She jolts out of her stupor and, as swiftly as a deer, she takes off. The mob is getting closer; she runs in the opposite direction. Then she realizes—there are no footsteps behind her. She turns to look back and sees them dragging him out. He does not resist. She screams, but it is lost in the chanting of the crowd.
Murderer
Murderer
She follows them closely, but not too close. They take him to the big weeping tree at the edge of the Meadow. Someone throws a rope over the lowest branch, the end knotted intricately to make a noose. The mob is shrieking now, howling for vengeance. He is struggling against their hands now. He screams once.
"Meet me under the stars."
She knows that is meant for her.
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where I told you to run, so we'd both be free
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree
They stand him on a chair that someone has had the foresight to bring, looping the rope around his neck. The mob quiets suddenly.
He only has time to whisper one word, like a prayer falling from his lips.
"Katniss…"
The crowd is so silent that even in the distance, she hears it.
Someone kicks the chair out from underneath him. His body swings, silhouetted against the starry sky.
Her hands are white from clenching them into fists; her lower lip bleeds from biting down on it so hard. In an instant, her mind is made up.
Meet me under the stars…
The mob has dispersed, back to regular people again, returning to their homes.
She skirts along the shadows, making her way back home. She knows what she needs to get. Slipping quietly in through the door, she avoids waking her mother and sister. She stares at them for a while, sleeping so peacefully together, curled up against each other like kittens. Buttercup looks up at her from his place at her sister's knees, a hiss forming deep in his throat.
She rummages through the cabinets quietly, searching.
Ah, there it is.
She is ready, but not quite.
She finds a single sheet of parchment, and a pen. She writes only one word; that is all that's needed. Then she slips silently from her home. She turns back for a last look at the only home she's known for the past 17 years. Slowly, slowly she puts three fingers up to her lips, then extends them out in the direction of the house. That is her final goodbye.
She makes her way back to the edge of the Meadow. Her fingers are quick and deft, making the appropriate loops and knots. Gale has taught her well. She will miss him—she will miss them all.
It was pure luck that they had left the chair beneath him, still lying on its side…or maybe it was Fate.
She throws her own rope over the branch, letting it settle next to his. She ties the other end to a tree trunk not too far off from the weeping tree. She climbs up on the chair and reaches over to caress his face. His blue eyes are still wide open, staring vacantly ahead into the great beyond. His blond locks fall in disarray on his forehead.
She slips the noose around her own delicate neck.
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree
At the last moment she leans over and kisses him, his lips cold and unyielding in death. His name slips softly from her lips, almost like a sigh.
"Peeta…"
She takes his hand in hers and kicks off, knocking the chair from beneath her. There is a sensation of flying, and then…blackness.
In the morning, people find them together. People scream, this time in horror and sadness.
They swing side by side in the early morning breeze, hands still clasped together even in death.
On the other side of town, Prim awakens with the first light of day. The other bed is empty; Prim wonders where her sister is. She glances around the room and sees the parchment sitting on the table. Fear runs through her, makes her shiver, like ice sliding down her back. She shakes her mother awake and together they go up to the table.
On the parchment, they see only one word.
Sorry…
There is a knock at the door.
This is my first post, not to mention my first Hunger Games fanfiction. The song in this story is "The Hanging Tree" from Mockingjay. When I first read it, it hit a deep note within me. I had such vivid imagery running through my head, with Peeta being the "murderer" and Katniss being his unfortunate lover. I was so inspired that I couldn't sleep until I had this story written out...well technically I typed it out on my iPhone LoLx I hope you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! :]