So okay! I decided to continue, and I hope you guys enjoy this uwu
Life started out slow.
Getting back into the routine was a little shaky, especially now that she seemed to be on her own. All she could do was remind herself that it was her fault, simply her fault that her closest friend was in a comatose state.
She sucks in a breath of air, fingers curling in to the palms of her hands as they sit in her lap, gray hues staring down at the mahogany that makes the kitchen table. She wasn't sure what to do anymore; all she could feel was anger at herself, at the driver - that's all she's done the past few days, rage silently in her head at either the kitchen table or in her room.
Just sitting about wasn't getting her anywhere though, and she knew that. She should go up to see him, even if he wouldn't be awake - she keeps telling herself that she needs to get up to go see him, or anyone. Her mother told her to go visit their neighbor, Haymitch, a day or two ago, but she never managed to get up off her bed.
Peeta and her would always go see Haymitch, see if he was alright and have small talk, make sure he was taking care of himself - maybe that was why she couldn't find it in herself to go visit him.
Currently, she was home alone. Her mother and little sister, Prim, had gone out. She remembers hearing her mother tell her that she was going to go up and see Peeta, if she wanted to come. All she managed was a croak of "no", and that was that. There was no arguing, no words said to try and convince her to come with them. A simple goodbye, and what time they should be back by was said, before the front door was closed with a soft click, leaving the black haired girl alone.
She remembers catching Prim's gaze, blue eyes shining with something, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. It looked as if she was silently begging her to come, or perhaps, she was silently telling her she would tell Peeta she said hi. Whatever she was trying to say, Katniss wasn't sure; but knowing Prim, it had to be one of those.
Was this how it always felt, when a friend risks something for your sake? Guilt weighing down on your shoulders, suffocating you and making it feel as if you're not getting enough air in your lungs, and no matter how many times you take in a deep breath - it's not enough, the guilt is still there, suffocating you.
She sighs, reaching up to run a hand through her greasy hair. "I really shoulder shower," she grumbles to herself, twirling the ends of her hair absentmindedly. It has been days since her last shower, since the last time she's felt water pellets on her and felt clean.
It surprises her that her mother, or Prim for that matter, hasn't said a word to her about it yet.
"I probably smell," she sighs, propping her elbow up on the table, her chin soon finding its way to the palm of her hand. She feels the need to shower, yet, she doesn't care; not even the slightest bit. So what if she smells? So what if her hair feels (and probably looks) as if it was dipped in a bucket of grease? She doesn't care. Others might, but not Katniss Everdeen.
But a shower sounds good, she has to admit. She can stand there and let the worries wash away, down the drain, and let her mind wander as she thinks. Showers were always the best place to do such, she concludes in her thoughts.
With a sigh, she pushes her chair away from the table and stands up on shaky legs. It takes her a moment, or two, to stand still, and once she is, she's moving. She moves to the closet in the hallway, curling her fingers around the brass doorknob and twists it, pulling it open to reveal all the coats the girls in the household owned.
A faint, melancholy, smile appears on her lips when her eyes fall on her father's jacket. Still in its rightful place in the closet, still not touched as if it was waiting for her father to wake up and take it, shrug it on and take off for work.
She knew that would never happen again, though.
She reaches out to take a hold of the lightest jacket she owns, perfect for the cool days that were upon them. A hum as she slips an arm in, and then the other, shrugging her jacket on with ease before zipping it up to her chin, as she always does.
Perhaps, it was time to get out of the house, she decides as she closes the closet door. She knows, oh she knows, that she should go up to the hospital to see her friend, but she couldn't - she can't find it in herself to walk inside the overly clean place and into the elevator, up the floors and to her dear friend's room. No matter how much she wants to see him, and make sure he's at least in that bed and being taken care of - she can't.
Not yet.
In time, hopefully, before a week passes since the incident, she'll go up to see him. She knows she'll see him, she'd be a terrible friend if she didn't. (But you're already a terrible friend, Katniss, she reminds herself.)
She stops in front of the front door, gripping tightly to the gold colored doorknob. She turns around, gaze falling to the family photo sitting atop one of the side tables. "I'll be back," she whispers, more so to her father than anything. With that, she leaves, closing the door behind her in one swift motion, nose crinkling when she feels just how chilly it was out.
"He better be home," is all she mutters to herself as she sets off for her neighbor's.
Whoooshh- hope it was okay! I'll see how fast I can update again \owo/
~ Lovely Kacey Faith