My older brother's mopping up peacekeepers in 2. My mother is still in 13, helping with the school. My little brother and the girl I love were both killed in a parachute explosion in the Capitol. And yet me and my baby sister have to come back home, to district 12. Even though there isn't a home to come back to. I bend over and put my arms out behind me, she climbs up and I shove away the quiet moans of pain that nearly escape my lips. It takes her a little more effort to get on my back than usual, a little more effort to lift her, but we hide it. No room for extra effort today, not with what I know is lying ahead. As my feet find the familiar path, I can't help but run through that last night's events in my head. The memories are patchy, but they are vivid and painful. Those ones attack me when I least expect it, like knives through my shattered heart.
Watching the games. Prim burying her face into me when Johanna Mason cut the tracker from Katniss's arm. Katniss blowing up the arena. Hearing the hovercrafts. Silence and then fire. Smelling the smoke. Gale yelling at everyone. Leading us to the fence. A group of people pulling it down. Me bending down to give Posy a piggyback. Prim. She was everywhere. Sitting next to me on the sofa. Grabbing my arm when we ran out of the house. Always running by my side. Stopping with me when I had to pick up Posy. Her arms wrapping around my neck, mine around her waist as we watched our district burn. It had never occurred to me before now, but I realised. She had never let go of my hand through the entire bombing of 12. Then, just like that she was lost in the fiery parachute explosion that killed my little brother; Prim was the one girl I've ever really loved. That's when the silent tears begin to fall. Posy's resting her head on my shoulder, so she can't miss them. The fat, salty tears that roll down my cheeks. I sniff and stand a little straighter. I'm head of the charred pile of wood that was once our house. I can't cry. But Posy can.
She's tried hard not to let me notice. But her tears are soaking through my grey District 13 top. Her cheeks are wet. I realise she's been crying since the meadow, so I drop her off of my back and crouch down so she's taller than me. Her grey eyes from the Seam bore into mine. They're red and puffy; she's rubbing her eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling. It's so sudden. The rage that surges through me, boiling in my blood. I hate the Capitol. I hate Snow. He has forced my 5 year old baby sister to grow up faster than she should. He forced her somewhere she didn't want to go. She's just a little kid. She's not even six yet. I reach up and attempt at smoothing out the matted, mop that is Posy's hair. I unknot it with my fingers and let the thin waves fall to her shoulders, her big grey eyes follow me as I stand up. I look down and give her a half-smile. She grins back easily, masking the pain, a skill she has mastered in her short little life.
We clamber under the fence and walk down our old road. Taking in the wreckage. Blackened, twisted metal. Clusters of crispy roof tiles, piles of ashes everywhere. A pang of longing rips through me as we walk past home. It was there, once. Now, there are just ashes. Ashes, burned blocks of dark wood and broken pieces of undisturbed furniture. I pause, stopping to pull a charred old toy of Posy's from the rubble. It's the rabbit. Her lucky rabbit she gripped so tightly, as we ran from our house. The one she had dropped, the one mother wouldn't let her go back for. It is lucky, I guess. After all that's happened, it's a ray of sunshine peeking through the dark thunderclouds that hang over our heads, threatening to burst, to bring on a new onslaught of pain and suffering in our lives. I hand Posy her rabbit, she snatches it out my hand and clutches it tightly to her chest, holding fast to the one shred of home that's left. It takes all I have to tear my eyes away from where my house stood, but I do. I reach out and squeeze Posy's hand, pulling her away.
We arrive in the town square and the breath catches in my throat. Posy makes a hiccupping gasp and bursts into tears again. The black, dusty skeletons of shops and houses line the streets that were once brimming full of murmuring, bustling people. There are carts, dotted around, full of the ugly half-decomposed bodies. The stench threatens a reappearance of my unsatisfying breakfast from 13. I bend my head to check on Posy, she's covering her nose with her rabbit, sucking her thumb like she used to when she was a baby. I notice Harman and a few others who work on Gale's mining team. He glances up, grey eyes reflecting the sunlight as they jump out of his grime-streaked face. The corners of his lips pull up slightly, and he nods his head. Harman murmurs something to the other men and strides over to me, his tanned face plastered with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Why would it? He wouldn't smile, he's not at all happy with being stuck watching out for me, but Posy too? It's asking a little too much.
"It's tough, I know. But it's better done sooner than later." Harman bends down to hoist Posy up onto his shoulder. He shuffles her around, tickling her, making her laugh. I haven't heard my sister laugh for months.
"Home?" Harman looks down at me, waiting for conformation.
"Home." I say, trying out the word. It sounds funny, since my home doesn't exist, but I have a new one now. I need to get used to that. I nod slightly, just enough so Harman knows I'm fine.
"Yes," I confirm, "Home."