Dark Paradise
Years have passed and time has flown still nothing has seemed to change except for him; the small boy who always stares up at me with his bright sea green eyes and shimmering bronze brown hair. He grows more and more with each day, looking more and more like his father, the one he asks about less and less with each passing year. Has it been so long that he has begun to forget about him or is it that he just doesn't want to ask anymore because the pain he can hear in my voice, the sadness that darkens my eyes?
He looks so much like Finnick that sometimes I find myself staring at the boy, mindlessly indulging in the past where my memories seem nothing but real. His laugh, his smile, his embrace all warm me to the very blood that courses through my very veins; so much so that when I am brought back into it can still the warmth tingling against my skin, slowly leaking away.
"Mom," The small boy asks. "Are you daydreaming again?" His tone sweet but worried. This was how he always questioned me when he knew I was thinking back to the times I had with her beloved father; always gentle but with a hint of worry to let me know that he was concerned for me.
His name is Waverly, Waverly Odair. My little boy a fish, I swear. Just like his father, always wanting to be out at the water; fishing, swimming, finding me seashells or just building castles by the water. His looks mimic his father's really…tan skin, bright sea green eyes with flecks of darker green and bronze hair with hints and steaks of my darker brown hair, slightly curly although short.
He is a perfect mirror image of the handsome man who fathered him indeed.
"Yes Waverly, I was but why don't you and I go inside now, it's about time Auntie Johanna to be paying us a visit, remember?" I said sweetly as a gentle statement of 'let's go inside to get ready.' To which he replied with a large smile.
Oh how he loved Johanna, especially since she has some wonderful tales of her life during the days of President Snow's reign over the District's and Capitol. Her somewhat tomboyish and violent ways make him laugh and me for that matter. She was one of the few to help me keep myself together for so long…She understands what it's like; she feels the same way, although she is a lot stronger than I am.
Waverly dashes inside so he can wash off and change and clean that mess we call his room since he knows very well Johanna will scold him for keeping it that way.
I clean the living room, picking up random toys and putting them away, trying to keep my drifting thoughts together as long as I can but before I know it I am sitting down at the table and staring obliviously out the window. For me, this was a good day…the voices and dark nightmarish memories are at bay…for me today was as close to reality as I can stick to.
