Several weeks had passed since Katniss had been released from the supervision of the Capital. She had been returned to her former home in the Victor's Village with only Haymitch. Peeta had been left behind to continue his treatment. Her mother and Gale had made new lives in other districts. Effie had returned to what was left of the Capital to salvage some kind of life for herself. It had been left to Haymitch to see that Katniss readjusted to life in 12. Of course you should never trust a drunk with even the simplest of tasks. She never saw him after the first day. Katniss spent quite a bit of her time alone, sitting in her mother's rocking chair just staring at the wall. She had guests most days in the beginning. Citizens of 12, who had returned, would come and see her. They often brought gifts of food, which had now become more easily accessible since the end of the war. At first she would eat the food, grateful for it. She only made small talk with her visitors. They would thank her for what she had done for Panem, but she never acknowledged this. Overtime, it became harder for her to maintain any sort of conversation. One day came a point where she couldn't even force herself to say so much as "hello" to her visitors. She ate less and less of the gifts of food. They stopped bringing her food when they saw that it was beginning to pile up and rot. She still had a few visitors that would come by to try to coax a few words from her. But they would never stay more than a few minutes. Her silence was absolutely deafening. She wouldn't even look at anyone to acknowledge their presence. It's almost as if Katniss wasn't there herself. The depression that had started out so small had spiraled out of control until she no longer had the motivation to get up from her chair. The visitors stopped when she started soiling herself. Nobody knew what to do about her. People claimed they wanted to help, but nobody dared to enter the house. The stench of rotten food and human filth was too overwhelming.