Disclaimer: Hmmm. There seems to be an issue. I don't own Hunger Games. And, so far, I don't own much else I write either.
Written for the January Starvation One Shot Contest. Prompt: A friend who dies, it's something of you who dies.
Warning: Contains Mockingjay Spoilers.
He's gone. Your brain thinks otherwise. You know where he is. Your heart? The giant gaping whole within it knows the truth.
He's not coming back.
"He could," the irrational hopeful side of you prompts. "Run to him," it continues. "Before…before he meets someone else."
And, oh, how you wish you could.
But Gale's in District 2. He hasn't called, hasn't made any contact at all. For all you've heard, he could be dead.
But you refuse to believe that, for rational, liable reasons. The war is over. All should be fine in District 2. All the Peacekeepers are dead, gone. All citizens from the Capitol have fled, all trying to blend into the crowd. Like you did the second last time you saw Gale. Right before the parachutes- no.
All you let yourself know is the result. But never-ever- relive. That's something that still catches you off guard, though it's replayed night after night in your sleep. That's something that the mere memory of makes you sad to leave the kitchen and walk where she walked. But she's been here, too.
You wish Gale could help you through it.
But, just like the memories, you ignore the gaping hole in your heart.