I remember what my father had told me before he died."Keep climbing, Katniss," He said with a sincere look on his face. I did not understand what he had meant by that, nor did I reckon it as important, but how would I know it would be the same words speaking to me in all of my dreams, taking over the thoughts of the ones I've lost, the beauty of the color I can bring back to my sight. Here I am, decades later, sitting on the rooftop of my house, the moonlight reflecting within its shadows, thinking…

I imagine everybody climbing the same harmonic mountain, which is high enough on its perches and bright amongst its variety of steepness to last a lifetime, fitting all of those you love and those who love you on it. There are many different slopes and grips, with the skies, sunny, cloudy, clear, always changing. I bump into a variety of people climbing besides me. I follow them, they follow me, we share laughs. They slip, you help them up, even some might try to push you down. Your arms and legs may start to hurt and climbing will get tough, but there's always a way to keep yourself going. If there's one thing I know about this mountain, it's that you should never give up on it.

I think of Prim, remembering her as she was in a pen helping Capitol children. She was healing and taking care of them so they could start climbing that mountain again. I saw her, admired by the industrious, upbeat lady she has come to be. Then I noticed those unforgiving parachutes raining down on she and the pen itself, and I knew what this meant. She was about to fall off the mountain within an instant. She met my eyes, formed my name, and in the moment of its inevitability, she was gone, obliterated from my eyes. . Noting she and her bright face full of life gone within an instant tortured me, and emotions spilled out of me all at once. And within that moment, my legs gave in, my arms felt as if they didn't belong to me, and I remember wanting to let go of the mountain myself, and to fall down with her. I remember shouting back her name, my whole body growing weaker, about to slip. I then heard Dad's voice echo inside of my head with the words that spoke to me every night, as if he was with me at that moment.

Keep climbing, Katniss.

And so I did. That moment, I knew still had that strength and fire inside of me, and I picked up my pace. It was difficult, regarding my loss of speech and weakening muscles that exploited unknowingly, but I grew stronger. I'm still getting stronger today, being accompanied by those who help me and those who try to bring me down. But no matter what the price, or how hard things become, I won't stop climbing nor will I substitute the magic that shines through my veins.

I then close my eyes.

I am with my mother, father, and my sister Prim, being welcomed by my favorite, warm laugh, which she gives me, that always enlightens my heart. Mom and Dad are laughing too, and this adds onto my pleasure. We chat, sing songs, be a family, and this time my father doesn't have to speak to me when I peer open my flecked, midwinter eyes. I think to myself, a sardonic smile creeped upon my chiseled face.

Keep climbing, Katniss.