Bittersweet

by violet.worlds

I wrote this kind of on a whim. It's what it says it is-bittersweet. A bit stupid, I guess, but I had the urge to write something, and this is what came out. I put K because I guess it's dark if you read between the lines.

I reach the president's mansion. The sight of my sister stops me. She's helping the wounded children. My sister, Prim. A hero, a healer. Not even fourteen. All the pain returns and I want to run to her, take her far away where she won't get hurt. I begin to advance towards her, and she turns and meets my eyes. She mouths something that seems to be my name. Katniss. I'm nearing her now, just a few steps away. I reach for her, grab onto her hand, and then I see the rest of the parachutes explode.

Fire is all I can see for a few moments. I'm falling to the ground. I'm not conscious of anything except pain. The fire consumes me, eating me up. Then all I can see is blackness, and I'm left with only my thoughts, alone. All alone. I think of everyone who has died for me. I think of Gale, how he's probably dead by now, and wonder if I will be joining him, or if I've lived and doctors are already fixing me up. I think of Prim, and I don't know if she is dead or not, and I can only hope that wherever she is, I am too. Prim, my baby sister, the only person I've ever loved without hesitation. With great effort, I think of her face, conjure up an image, and when I do, it's the most beautiful, pure thing I have ever seen.

I start to see other people too. The people I love most, dead and alive. My father, my mother. Gale, Madge. Rue. Peeta and Haymitch. They talk to me. Not saying anything, just talking.

Then they start to fade. One by one, everyone leaves, but peacefully, and I think that wherever they're going will be happy. Finally, it's just me and Prim again. All of my worries, my troubles, everything that has happened to me have gone. I feel like a child again. Innocent, carefree. The child that, so long ago, made rope necklaces with her baby sister and singing a tune without realizing what it meant. We are in a meadow. We play together, just as we did when we were children. Twirling around together, singing, without a care in the world.