I'm actually awake before Peeta arrives for breakfast. I go downstairs and notice no one is there yet. It's a bit unsettling, how empty the house feels. When I start to think about it, I actually don't remember Sae coming over yesterday morning. Peeta was there, but she wasn't. I suppose I assumed she had already left, but maybe she hadn't showed at all, knowing Peeta would be there.
On cue, Peeta knocks on the door. I make my way to open it.
"I've told you to just come in," I say.
"I forgot," he replies with a smile, clearly having remembered. Then he suddenly looks peculiar. I give him a look but shrug it off. Things can still be odd between us at times. He shakes his head as if to clear it. I feel worried about him, but he is ignoring it, so I do the same. "I brought you a surprise," he says, holding out a covered basket.
"What is it?" I ask. He shrugs in reply, handing me the basket. When I pull off the cloth covering it, I see a basket full of my old favorite, cheese buns. I can't help the smile breaking across my face. I touch the curve of my lips to make sure it's real. It may just be my first real smile in a long time. "Thank you, Peeta," I tell him. But when I look up, I feel very afraid for him. He has a pained expression. "Are you okay?" I ask.
He nods and takes a deep breath. "I'm going to go home for a bit. I'll see you later," he says much too quickly before he is out the door.
I stand there, dumbfounded, for a moment. Something is wrong, terribly wrong. It feels even worse to just stand around doing nothing. I make up my mind, and then I set down the cheese buns and bound out the door behind him, calling for him to stop, to tell me what's wrong.
"Please go, Katniss," he mutters when I catch up with him.
"No, Peeta, I won't!" I almost shout back.
"Katniss, you need to go, now!"
"Just let me help you,"
"I'll be fine, Katniss. Go."
"I'm not going to leave you. I'm not going to do that. Let me help you."
We're on his porch now. He almost turns to look at me, but he either changed his mind or it was a fake-out because the next moment he is gone through his front door.
I won't give up that easy, though. I practically laugh when the door wasn't even fully locked- a half-attempt at locking it was made, but I guess he was in a rush.
The living room is empty. I stay silent for a moment so that I can hear where Peeta is. I jump at the sound of a loud crash from upstairs. I hurry up the stairs, figuring he must be behind the only closed door on this floor. It's a guest bedroom in my home, so I assume it must be the same here. I rush to the room at the end of the hall just as another crash sounds. This door is actually locked.
"Peeta? Peeta, let me in." I beg, pulling on the locked door.
"Katniss?" he sounds confused. "You need to leave," he says like he did outside but now it sounds more mean and icy than like a warning. It sounds more like a threat.
"Peeta, open this door now!" I demand. Another crash. "I will stay out here all day if I have to." Crash. Silence. The silence stretches on and on. I give a defeated sigh and slump against the door.
"It's okay Peeta, you know. It's not real. If you think it is, ask me," I saw through the door. I want to help him, not give up in him again like I had before. Something hits against the wall, but then the loud noises fade stop for a longer period of time than earlier. I press my hands to the door, willing Peeta to let me help him. I feel like it's just another person I am letting down.
There's a wall clock in the hallway. Over an hour has passed, according to it. I wish I could just…just run in there and pull him from the shadows and show him what's true and what was fabricated by the Capitol, but he won't let me help. He's still protecting me, in his own way. It makes me angry. I don't need his protection! I wasn't the one who suffered at the Capitol's hand because of him. No, he suffered because of me and only I can help him. If he would just let me.
I guess he prefers to just let the moment pass because he finally breathes our beyond the door in a relieved way. I hear him shuffle to the door, unlock it.
I fall back when it opens; I guess I should have moved from sitting with my back against it when he unlocked it. Oh well.
Peeta stares at me from above.
"Well, don't step on me," I say, grinning, an attempt to lighten the mood. It works. His face breaks into a smile as well. It's a relief.
"Sorry, I didn't think you'd still be there," he says, helping me up.
"I said I would be." He just looks at me for a moment. "What?"
"Nothing,"
"Whatever," I say, rolling my eyes. We both stare at our feet then until we both make excuses to do other things. I end up going home because I feel so tired after my sudden escapade and so I end up going straight to bed where I watch the dust motes spin though the air until Greasy Sae arrives to prepare dinner.
Peeta doesn't come. I feel betrayed, which is stupid because it's not like he ever said he would come, but it was some sort of unspoken agreement. I'm tempted to be spiteful and not eat the cheese buns that had gone unforgotten earlier, but they look so good I cave and eat a few. Then I go back to bed, angry and restless until the night finally pulls me under.
I'm in a perfectly clean white hallway. It seems to stretch on forever, and even though I never explored the place, I can tell it's a Capitol hospital. I try to determine why I am here and make my way down the hallway. All the doors are closed, except one on the end. Suddenly, someone comes bounding out of the room. Two blonde braids and an un-tucked shirt, Prim! I start to run to her, but she's so far. She sees me and smiles, but is distracted by something falling. What is it? I try to scream to her, to tell her not to open it, since it's one of the dreaded parachutes. It's too late, always too late. I reach her right after the bombs explode.
Screaming. It takes me a minute to realize it's my own. I cannot see the moon through the window tonight, so I guess it's a new moon. I don't keep a clock in this room, so I have no idea what time it is. Doesn't matter, really. I won't be getting back to sleep.
I throw the tangled covers off of me and walk into the bathroom. My hair is tangled and matted, so I step into the shower and wash it out- really out- for the first time in a while. It feels softer, but still brittle and uneven in most parts. After I step out, I peer at the girl. She looks almost like an animal- her eyes wild with, her hair ending at different lengths, and some sort of pattern of normal skin and pink patches. I'm afraid of her, I'm afraid for her. What does she have left? No best friend, no mother, and no sister. She's got nothing to live for. So why is she here? She doesn't even deserve to be here. Her scars are just a reminder of the fires she caused, the deaths that were all her fault. Of course, the wretched girl is me.
Thoughts consume my head, making me feel nauseous. An internal battle rages inside my mind. It's your fault; you don't even deserve a chance at happiness! Not that you could be happy again. Prim would want you to be happy. Peeta is there for you. You have no one! You're all alone and you deserve it! Prim didn't die so you could mope around!
I pull at my wet hair, begging it stop. Pleading the voices to be silenced. Another thought pushes them away for a moment.
I don't want this hair anymore. It's uneven and unhealthy and bad memory. I rummage around and find some scissors. They should do the job perfectly. Ruined locks of dark hair fall to my feet. Maybe I should get someone else to do this for me. Not only are my hands shaking, but I also can't see through the tears falling down my face. I don't even know when I started crying. I'm glad to be doing it, though, because each clip is like a jab at the monsters living inside my head. It's a way of…becoming someone new. Someone who is trying to rise from the embers. Maybe she doesn't deserve the chance, but she has to try. I have to try. For Prim. For Peeta. For everyone.
It's an uneven, choppy job but it's better than what it was. This is the shortest my hair has ever been. It falls right past my shoulders now. It feels…rejuvenating somehow. I happily sweep up the hair, discarding it and making some cheesy metaphor about throwing away once piece of the monsters. I'm not naïve enough to think it's all gone, though. It's still a step. Maybe Dr. Aurelius will be proud of me when I tell him I'll at least try. Of course, who knows how long this decision will last?
When the moment is gone, I take my place back on the couch and watch the sunrise, waiting for Peeta to arrive, wondering when my life switched to never talking to him, to expecting him to simply be there.