I do know that the books are perfect. But there's this contest I saw on J-14 that I was hoping to join yet I can't cause I can't submit my story. So I think I'll just post it here if somebody wants to read it.
Something bothered me when I read Hunger Games. It's the lack of emotion from Katniss. Gale and Peeta were both fervent in their passions but Katniss' emotions were limited to things involving her family and when she's on the hospital. I know there are different opinions about this but this is probably the reason why many hates Katniss. I for one loves her indifference and single mindedness about things. This (the thing I wrote) is just an attempt to make Katniss more of an emotional being.
Hope you like it :)
"You miss him?"
I heard the sound of the only male I've casually talked to.
"Every single day."
I heard him let out a deep, heavy sigh just like he does every time I answer his questions pertaining to the name on the gravestone. Before I can even stop myself, I said the only other thing I've regretted not happening when I lost the blond boy. "If only we had the chance to swallow those nightlocks, things would have been different"
A sudden burst of light and smoke broke the intense glare of both tributes. Both of them turned their head into the direction of the disturbance as Caesar Flickerman's voice faded into the background. Simultaneously, numerous hovercrafts materialized above them.
"Don't say that," I heard my companion say. Ever since I lost the blond boy, my best friend had been very reserved. In his actions, in his looks and in his talk. He's mentioned the blond boy's name but he knows— he know s that what I felt that day was genuine and that I can't really let go of the boy with the bread. Something inside me was woken up and killed by the games and I know no matter what Gale says or what he sacrifices I will never stop fighting for the blond boy.
The 74th Hunger Games brought the worst from the underground rebels. No amount of threatening from the Capitol and President Snow himself could put a lid on the rebellion that broke down when Katniss and Peeta attempted suicide inside the arena. The pandemonium that Katniss saw along with the hovercraft was the work of the rebels. They say that nobody knows where the arena is except the Gamemakers but here was Katniss, after a while, saw men in fatigue clothes- something she knew were the uniforms of the former habitants of their country.
I can feel the mixture of sympathy, jealousy and regret from my best friend. He knows that he won't really get through me this day. This day when I lost the one thing that I thought would break me. The one thing that I thought would scare the hell out of me. The one person who knew and who even with such a short time can carry me out of the indifference and complacency that I have long been imprisoned to. There are days that I am, in a word, sober from the grief. But this day, I always wish that he would carry me out of the pit that I'm in, just like he did when we were inside the arena.
Katniss' first sign of life was inside the hospital. But the only thing running through her mind was one question as she tried to remember what exactly happened. She turned around to the noise beside her and asked them immediately.
"Is he safe?" Katniss asked Gale, wide eyed and breathy from having her heart beating so fast. Mrs. Everdeen was the one who answered. "He's in a very critical condition Katniss. He was literally in between the gunfight. His body was halfway through going to the hovercraft when the gunfight started. Even the hovercraft that was carrying his body broke apart while some of the rebels tried to get Peeta to their side. Peeta lost a lot of blood and until now, he's still in danger."
There are people you build your life around with and there are those you stop yourself for. I can never fully verbalize to Gale or to Prim or to my mother why I was fighting so hard. The rebellion had been going on for two years. And always, this day makes me forget the anguish, the hate, the fervent passion that I anchor myself in becoming the Mockingjay. All I remember is that I'm fighting because I want to remember his laugh, his blond curls and his bread scented skin. I want to remember that though I am this monster, this person who cares nothing but toppling the Capitol, I am fighting for him.
I stood up and faced my best friend. He looked at me intently and his eyes mirrored thousands of questions and one particularly about my sanity in the mission that was apparently breaking our ranks apart. But this is what I needed to do. This will stop everything. This will be the end of it all. This might be the end of everything I've only believe in. But one thing is for sure, if I die tonight, it was only because I don't want his death to be in vain. And also, to prove to myself, that even if it was hazy, undecided and hurts so much, Peeta will always be the one person who I'll love.
After that, when I'm faced with eternity, I hope I meet his hands once more.
