Hey! This is my new fanfic, it's post mockingjay, and pre-epilouge. In this story, Katniss has an extremely severe case PTSD (post tramatic stress disorder) and I tried to stay really close to actual the illness as possible. I hope you like it, and review!
I do not own THG. If I did, I would not be writing Fanfiction.
Only hope – mandy more. (I know its old and kind of weird, but listen anyways)
Thirty seven days. Thirty seven days since I got back from the Capital. Thirty seven days since I was on trial. Thirty seven days since I've been outside. Thirty seven days since I talked. Thirty seven days since I've seen anyone but Sae and Haymitch, and more than thirty seven days since I've seen him
I can't even bring myself to say his name. Once I tried thinking about him, and I ended up sitting in the closet for two straight days.
"Girl, dinner's ready!" Sae calls from downstairs. I trudge downstairs and sit down at the wooden kitchen table. She serves me a plate of bread some kind of stew next to it. It smells oddly familiar. I pick up the bread and examine it. It's so smooth, and when I smell it, it makes me feel…happy? Slightly Joyful? Hope, maybe?
The next feeling hits me like a ton of bricks. It literally knocks the wind out of me. This is his bread. How in the world did Sae get his bread? That must mean… Oh my gosh. He's back. The boy with the bread is back.
I can't breathe. I am literally suffocating myself. I try to get the air back into my lungs, but I can't. I think Sae is yelling, but I don't know. My knuckles are white from gripping the table, but I don't care. I squeeze my eyes shut, and try to ward the memories off, but it's too late. I see Rue, Marvel, Glimmer, Cato, Thresh, Boggs, Finnick, and Prim – my sweet little baby sister getting blown to pieces all right before my eyes. I see Peeta nearly dying, dying and brought back to life, him tortured, and his hands wrapping around my neck.
I hear a scream, and recognize it as mine. I can't stop. These days, sometimes it feels as if I can't control myself at all. Certain things cause these flashbacks as they call them. I never know what makes it happen, all I know is that when I have one, I can feel. I feel emotions – not necessarily good ones, but emotion all the same. Sometimes I get so scared that I blackout, but most times afterward I just run to the closet under the stairs with a blanket and just sit there, and that's what I do this time.
Regardless of who's watching, I snatch the quilt that my mother sent, and get in my hiding spot, but today it feel different. This flashback left me with emotion. I can feel the coldness of the floor beneath me, and feel the stagnant air of the small space. The first tear in a while escapes my eye, and I choke down a sob. Why is it suddenly now that I cry? Is it the bread? Or the power of the flashbacks? Whatever it is, I let it all out. I scream out louder than ever, and I sob and with everything I have. I cry for those who I've killed, for those who've lost, and I cry for those deaths's I witnessed with my very own eyes. I tremble with grief and sadness, and clutch my middle to keep myself from falling apart.
What happened to the Katniss that was strong and brave who never let tears be shed? I envy the old Katniss. She didn't know what it was like to have everyone she remotely cared for be ripped away. She didn't know sadness like I do, even though she thought she did. I scream for that too. For taking those I loved and had with me for granted. I was so stupid! Why didn't I understand that I could lose everyone? I could have been so much more careful! I could have saved everyone! But instead I did the opposite. And I don't believe life will ever get better.
I try to slow my breathing by watching a spider crawl up my arm. Maybe it'll be poisonous and bite me and I'll die, but I think that fate has made it obvious that I'm not supposed to die. Or maybe I've served my purpose for making the world better, and this spider is on a mission from the stars to end me right here and right now.
No such luck.
Once I crawl out of my closet, I see none other than Haymitch Abernathy is staring at me. I can't help but to feel a little self conscious. I haven't showered in weeks, my hair is untamable, and I'm not even wearing pants. I pull my long shirt down further, and cross my arms over my chest. I feel his stare penetrating through my skull, and I want to run away there and then. This can't be good, whatever it is.
"Well sweetheart, it seems you know what this is about." He says. His voice is free of alcohol, which he gave up when I came home and he became my legal guardian. Haymich has been there through thick and thin and I don't think that I could ask for a better mentor sometimes.
But this time, I don't know what he's talking about. What's up? That I'm mentally insane? That's been "up" for a while.
I just blink in response.
"Well, I'm just gonna say it. Your boy is back, and he's not so much better than you." He says. Oh yeah, I did know that I guess. I just chose to forget it, like half of the other things I've endured in my life.
What am I supposed to do about that? Why is he telling me this? I really don't care, so I grab my quilt and sit in my rocking chair and stare at the fire. Again. I stare so long that it hurts to blink. I think Haymitch is still on my couch, but I don't bother to look at him. I've got other things on my mind. Things of little importance, like the type of stitching on this blanket, and the popping of the fire.
He comes up behind me, and I jump a little. I get startled so easy.
"Katniss, I know this isn't my story to tell, but he's having episodes every night. He still can't tell the difference between real and not real, and you're the only one that knows. You hold the well-being of that boy. No pressure sweet heart, just lettin' you know."
No pressure Haymitch, none at all. I'm just a sick teenage girl who can't even take care of herself, and you expect me to help the boy I've hurt the most out of everyone. I'm sure that will help so much. I want to say, but I hold my words, and continue to stare. I hear him sigh, and the door click shut.
My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am seventeen years old. I live in district twelve. It has been more than thirty seven days since I have seen Peeta Mellark. Peeta is back in district twelve. Haymitch says I'm supposed to help him. That is not logical. I think Peeta Mellark still wants to kill me.
I thought life was hard before. This is a whole new realm of hard.
