The Mistakes We Make

by Kenzi.got.love

Katniss has gone back to life after the revolution. She's broken and hollow and believes Peeta is no longer the boy that loves her. This story is about Peeta and Katniss and how they go through difficulties like hallucinations. And Gale comes back only to ruin whatever weak ties Peeta and Katniss have made. Also Katniss's mother holds one thing left to say to her daughter..

1. Alive, But Hollow

Hi there.. I'm trying out an idea I had and decided to make it a chapter story. I would love to hear from my readers on how it is going and how I'm doing. I hope you like this :)

Suzanne Collins owns The Hunger Games, rightfully so and all credit for the characters goes to her.

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Everything is over and I'm done. I have nothing left to do; I'm just living in a world where the only person I ever loved no longer exists. Life has never been easy, but going to sleep watching my little sister burn is unbearable. I do my best not to sleep anymore, I just can't keep watching Prim die over and over again in nightmares that will never cease. I'm hollow, a complete shell.

I move when I have to, but other than that, I sit on the couch and try not to relive the horrible images of the people I cared for die. Even Peeta shows up every now and again in my mind and I let him stay there, because there he's the old Peeta. He's the one who loved me enough to try to save my life. Peeta. He lives two houses down from me, with Haymitch in between us. He comes over to my house, wordlessly, to tend to the primroses. I can't look at them, not yet, not ever. I can't look at him either because I know the Peeta that loved me is no longer present. He's not the boy with the bread anymore. He's like me, a shell, a lifeless shell.

He could have done better than me, he could have had anyone. Whoever he would have chosen wouldn't have led him on during the games and would probably have been waiting back home for his return. He could have won the games, after I found him and fixed him up. I should have taken the Nightlock and let him win. Then there would have been no revolution and certainly no Mockingjay. Eventually the games would have been put to a stop, someone would have done something. I just can't help but think, all the people I cared for would have lived if it hadn't been me. I shouldn't feel guilty, with all the death came the change and the possibility of life with no games. I should be happy and I should be able to carry on with my day and I should be able to live. I should be able to do a lot of things, but in reality, all I can do is sit and feel sorry for myself.

After that thought I must have dozed off because I'm waking up thrashing around and tears are streaming down my face. I'm shaken, not because of my nightmare, or even the horrendous feelings that come with them, but the feelings of strong arms around me. They're squeezing the life out of me and soon, I can't breath.