Her jagged fingers danced around feverishly, searching for its familiar, smooth yet hard texture. A tiny speck of light in the darkness. She clutched the everlasting-white pearl in her sweaty palm and held it tight against her heart, like she always did. As the years passed, she learnt to lock her screams back inside her mind, not allowing them to escape into reality and wake Peeta and their children up. The nightmares never left, they never would, and both of them knew it. She looked across at him, his blonde, shaggy hair spread across the pillow, and wondered what haunting scenes might be flashing through his innocent, closed blue eyes. But for once, he looked peaceful. She had pictures of him in the back of her mind, of his sleeping body thrusting and twitching in the middle of the night, of whimpers and incessant shaking. Instead, tonight he lay still, his eyelids resting like blankets over his eyes instead of fighting the demons that lay beneath them. Disturbing memories forced her to look away, the immobility of his sleep reminding her of death, an old friend she knew better than she wished.
They had passed so many years staying up together, trying desperately to escape the monsters that the shadows held. Inside, they both knew there was no way out of this endless labyrinth, they knew that these monsters were not hiding in the darkness, but in themselves.
She didn't know exactly what it was that made Peeta's pearl so calming, the only thing able to keep her sane when his arms weren't there for shelter. Stroking its lucid surface against her dried and chewed-on fingertips, she wondered what gave this small yet beautiful object such power. Perhaps it was because it was one of the only pieces of her past she had left to hold on to; or, actually, one of the only ones which didn't bring her helpless pain and grief. It was a reminder of Peeta's love, his infinite caring for her, his purity and strength. Although she would never dare admit it to herself, the pearl was also one of the only things she had left from the old Peeta. After the hijacking, after the Capitol tortured the life out of him and turned him into a weapon controlled to destroy her, she thought she was never going to see the real Peeta again. Never hear his persuading and wise words, never get lost in the sweet melody of his voice, never see the deep and enchanting colour in his eyes, those eyes which held so much love and hurt. Never feel the taste of his lips against hers again, never have his touch against her skin bring sparks of fire to her whole body. She knew he would never be exactly the same again, but then again, neither would she. Everyday she thanked whatever gods were up there for bringing back her boy with the bread, her dandelion in the spring.
"Mommy," the little girl with the dark curls looked up at her mother with her squinting yet flaming blue eyes, still groggy from sleep.
"Rise and shine, little duck," Katniss' voice broke on the last words. She swallowed hard and shut her eyes closed, taking in deep breaths, desperately trying not to spiral down the grieving path of the past. She'd had years and years of practice now, especially when the children came, she forced herself even harder to stay in the present and be strong for her daughter.
"I want to take you somewhere today, we'll go on an adventure."
"Will daddy and Rye come with us too?"
Katniss hesitated, an itching lump forming in her throat. She knew how much Peeta hated for her to go into the woods alone, but he didn't understand. She needed it. She needed the cool, fresh smell of the trees, to follow the twirling path of the immortal wind touching everything it passed through, moving every branch and leaf. She needed to remember some good memories for a change, and the only ones she could recall were surrounded by the forbidden nature of District 12.
"No, but we'll bring back a surprise for them." She smiled and picked her daughter up, spinning her around, her ringing and gorgeous laughter warming Katniss' heart.
"Come on, let's go before daddy wakes up," Katniss silently called to her daughter.
A tug ripped at her chest as soon as the words came out of her mouth. She hated keeping secrets from him, doing anything behind his back. But this was simply nothing to be worried about, she reassured herself, all she wanted was for her daughter to connect with the woods and the green all around them as she did. Memories of her father taking her through the trees of District 12 back when she was a child flew into her mind like a storm of vicious birds, clawing into her eyes, shedding tears down her cheeks. A harsh voice inside her head chastised herself, and aggressively brought her hands to her cheeks to wipe the tears away.
The voice pierced a deep hole into her stomach every time. With all her might, she wished she didn't have to recognize it, not know to whom it belonged to. But she did. And it was her own. Her sixteen-year old voice. Her voice back when she used to reprimand her mother for every awry look she would make, for any sign of sadness she would show. For any sign of weakness. It took her too long to realize that it was not weakness at all, it was out of love, and no other word can describe love as well as strength does.
She had become her own mother. And the one thing she wanted more in the whole world was for her daughter to not look at her in the same way as she used to look at hers.
Katniss snapped back to the room as the little girl rushed into the room, carrying something in her tiny hands.
"I found something," she said, a sparkle of wonder in her eyes.
Her clumsy hands were desperately trying to work together with the object she had just found, trying to attach it to her clothes.
Katniss knelt down and found herself gasping for air as she saw what her daughter was holding. Her gray eyes filled incessantly with trembling tears, blurring her sight. She extended her arm forward and gently took the golden mockingjay pin off her daughter's struggling hand. She closed her eyes as she clenched the pin tightly against her chest, feeling its familiar cool yet rusty texture.
Hope. Light. Promise.
That's what the unusual bird symbolized. Katniss opened her eyes to see all three things staring back at her in huge, doey eyes. She took a shaky deep breath as she leaned in to pin it to her daughter's shirt.
"My little mockingjay."
Tiny 'crunches' followed behind Katniss' footsteps, the sound of her daughter's feet creating cracks on the leaf's porcelain exterior. A smile crept out on Katniss' face. She was just like her father.
"Softly, little duck, you can't make that much noise or the animals will be scared of you. Try to walk on logs and avoid stepping on leaves."
Her daughter immediately followed, and shortly after the only sound you could hear was the distant chirping of birds.
"Shouldn't we be the ones scared of the animals?"
Kill or be killed. Hunt, or be hunted.
These words rang inside Katniss' head, a sudden jolt of pain as if she was hit by lightning.
"I don't want you to be scared, that's the only important thing." Katniss answered.
A rustle of leaves interrupted her thoughts, and she signalled her daughter to stand still and observe her. Gracefully, she pulled out an arrow from her leather sheath and prepared to shoot the squirrel up ahead.
'BOOM'
Heart jumping out of her chest.
A canon sounding in the sky.
Head jerking left and right.
The sound of people running for their lives.
Panic reigning inside her veins.
The 'thuds' and gory sounds of sharp blades meeting living flesh.
Screaming.
Crying.
Rocking back and forth.
Then complete darkness.
"Katniss! Katniss!" A faded voice seemed to get closer and closer. "It's not real, not real Katniss."
Real or not real?
Not real, not real, not real, not real.
The words flashed inside her mind in a never-ending spiral, screaming at her, then slowly blurring into whispers.
At last she opened her eyes and found his enchanting, light blue ones vivid with fear.
Peeta held her in his arms, his warmth radiating like the sun and stopping her from swaying back and forth.
"Peeta-" she started mumbling.
"Shh, shh, it's okay. I'm here now."
Her breaths decreased to their usual level, along with her heartbeat, yet her head still pounding. She felt a sweaty hand reach out to hold her own and looked up to see her younger son's vibrant blonde curls, and a soothing smile on his face.
"As soon as I heard you leave the house, I knew where you were going. I know how hard it is for you to come back here so I thought Rye and I would just follow to check up on you. I couldn't find you at first, but then the cries-" He stopped short.
"Well, I'm good at not leaving tracks," Katniss said with a chuckle, and started to sit up.
Maybe the old her would have been mad at him, she thought, for not letting her be independent, or free. But this was almost twenty-five years later, and she was grateful.
"I don't want to lose you again," He said, searching deep into her eyes.
"You won't. I'm alright once I realize you're here."