Silent Hatred
By Harriette Rowe
Broken, she was broken. Everything had been too much for her, they said. She would never be the same, they said. He wanted to laugh. How could she be the same? How could anyone be the same? The uprising, the rebellion, the execution. Everything, it had changed them all, not just her, the mockingjay. Yet they treated her as a special case, the treated her like her emotional damage was the worst. Yeah, she lost her sister but he had lost his parents. She killed President Coin, he witnessed Snow choke on his own blood. He saw the love of his life devolve into madness and vote for more children to be sent to the Hunger Games. He had been tortured at the hands of the capital as well.
So, what did they do with him?
Nothing.
Perhaps that was what turned him so bitter. He had faced as worse or worse and now he was being swept aside for the one that was their mascot. Yes, they trialed, yes, they no longer had a need for her but they kept up face and for the public, they continued to care about Katniss and her wellbeing.
Peeta was ignored, Peeta was swept aside, Peeta was forgotten.
These were the things that haunted Peeta on the train ride back to district twelve. The luxury that had surprised him on his first trip to the capital for the first Hunger Games was long gone. Now it was just the rage that had replaced his love.
She was curled into his side, sleeping fitfully. Sweat formed on uncannily pale brow and she shivered, her body sometimes giving a thunderous lurch.
He didn't wake her. He watched amused, the well-crafted mask of concern and love broken on the metaphorical floor.
She was so vulnerable right now, so easy to take advantage of. Night was flying by outside the train, and everyone but he was asleep. His large hands could easily wrap around her neck or he could easily take a pillow and press it to her face, blocking all of from going into or getting out of her lungs. He knew there was rope somewhere on the train; he could easily make it look like she hung herself.
But no, he'd sit, stewing his silent hatred for her, not taking any of the opportunities to kill her, instead choosing to watch her sink, even dragging her down when she got the idea to swim.
Just an alternate thought to the vague ending we were given in Mockingjay. Reviews are welcome and encouraged.