The doors to the hall finally opened. He stood stiffly with one of Haymitch's old suits hanging loose at his sleeves and feet. No matter how many years had passed, it still had the stench of alcohol hanging onto it like a spider from its web. But the smell didn't just make him winkle his nose, it brought back memories, thoughts he had tried so hard to bury in the back of his mind, hiding them with a lock and throwing the key as far away as possible. However hard he tried, his past would forever be a part of who he was, and forgetting it would be like forgetting himself, and he already knew how that felt like. The smell reminded him of sadness, trauma and nightmares, bringing back the horror of the Games. Drinking may have been Haymitch's post traumatic stress, but his was constant fear.
Once the doors opened, the thoughts managed to hide back behind the lock for just a moment. It was the grand opening of District 12 after the bombing. It was supposed to mark the start of a new era, one where peace would reign instead of hunger. All the citizens were invited, and since money was short in District 12, it was nothing extremely fancy.
The girls danced from the doors to meet their partners. She was at the back, hidden behind long skirts and intricate hairdos. He was always able to spot her no matter where they were, as if her whole body glowed like the moon in a dark night with no stars. She was not wearing a smile, not even a fake one like she used to for their interviews with Caesar all those years ago. But as she drew near to Peeta's face, the smile escaped from the corners of her mouth as she leaned in to place a gentle kiss against his lips. He smiled back as he put his hand on her waist and began to dance. They both got lost when they were together, and dancing made it even easier to never find their way back. He held his arm up as she twirled beneath it, then laughed and whirled again.
His smile quickly faded as the room around him blurred along with all the faces in it. He felt his arm slump back against his side, no longer staring at the laughing girl. All he saw were flames. Red, orange and yellow with even some sparks of blue. He no longer heard music, the air was filled with screams.
He heard his heart beat faster and his head pounding at the same rhythm. He realized the screams were not screams after all, but cheers. Sick, maddening cheers from a huge crowd. Quickly the flames zoomed out to a red, flamboyant dress, worn by the young girl he'd always loved. The shouts slowly faded into words: "Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire!"
The images flashed suddenly through his mind, the red dress transforming into a white one. The white burning his eyes, symbolizing anything but marriage, reminding him of white roses. Then the flames came back and one by one came together into the feathers of a black bird, a Mockingjay, soaring through cities burning into ruins. The screams echoed below, no longer of happiness but pain, soon interrupted by the ash of the fire. The fire faded and the screams got louder, more piercing and cut his skin like the opening of old wounds. He saw himself bellowing and pouting, covered in blood he knew was his own. However when he felt for his face, he knew it was clean and his mouth was sealed shut.
He was looking at memories so painful he felt as if he were still there, stuck in his past, never being able to heal. He shut his eyes hoping everything would go away. When he opened them again, he was gazing back at the face he loved and recognized, except he did not feel the love anymore. Hatred, pain and despair filled his eyes. He looked at himself shaking, trembling, forcing his hands steady onto Katniss' throat.
He repeated, "She's a mutt... she's a mutt.." over again as if to give reasons for his actions.
"Peeta, Peeta come back! Open your eyes! It's me!"
He could only faintly make out voices.
"Peeta, please."
He heard her voice trembling, holding back tears. He opened his eyes and saw he was lying on the ballroom floor, his mouth moving and repeating "She's a mutt" without even realizing it. He immediately stopped, the wildness in his eyes slowly disappearing. He paused for a second, shielding himself again from the memories, locking them like he always did, waiting and hoping he would never have to face them again. Once he was fully back in the Hall, he put his arms around Katniss, pulling her so close to him so that he would never have to let go. Her teeth stopped shaking and her lips went steady.
She whispered in his ear, "You love me, real or not real?"
He didn't hesitate to answer, "Real."
