Reflections of a Housewife 3: Burnt to a Crisp
Disclaimer: Much to my own regret and boundless sorrow, I must admit that I don't own this lovely series; Suzanne Collins does.
Author's note: I know. I know. I knoooow. It says in my profile that Chapter 3 was gonna be about Gale according to Peeta. Sadly, that story wasn't progressing as well as I had hoped. This story on the other hand just swam onto the page. It came so naturally, and much more quickly. Rest assured I am working on the promised story, and I'll try to publish it soon. Thanks for your patience; and I hope you enjoy this one at the meantime.
My hands were sore. Heat enveloped me. My forehead was sweaty, and welling within me was a desire for much deserved freedom. The remnants of the Seam became an outreach center, under the commission of Paylor. Medics were stationed around certain areas, at the edges of the premises, offering free health care and first aid. I was in the makeshift kitchen with Greasy Sae and other ladies, cooking food for the feeding program. We finished a heated discussion on plating arrangements and detergent brands. We resumed our activities, peeling potatoes and cooking different kinds of meat and vegetables. Greasy Sae insisted on making a special rendition of "beef" stew for the affected families. I see no problem in this, and we all oblige. I can't help but feel a little emasculated since I was the only guy in there. That made things a little awkward. The doctor says that reaching out gives us something to think about and distracts from our own problems. I'd like to think of it as a little more than that. My mind wanders.
I was in the bakery with my brothers and my father. My mother was in the shop, waiting eagerly for the customers that would never come. We have all been working very hard that day, but because of the weather and the time of year, our bread wasn't selling. You'd be surprised how seasonal orders are, and how sales often come in patterns. Our sales for bread were the lowest they have ever been. Mother was in one of her moods again. When she's like this, beatings were all too common, and reasoning with her was beyond impossible.
The sale troughs aren't the only depressing thing looming over District 12. Recently, there has been an accident. An explosion went off in the mines, killing many of the workers there. Families have been left devastated, destitute and demoralized. Pastry consumption, especially cakes were at their lowest. For many weeks, no one had
Found any cause to celebrate. The District was as dark and gloomy as the storm clouds hovering above it. I think of all the families that were affected. Then I think of her.
I've known Katniss for many years. We go to the same school, take the same classes, but I don't seem to be visible to her at all. I've been nursing a healthy crush on her all these years, and I've been trying to talk to her, but she's a complete puzzle to me. What do I say to her, anyway? "Hey, I'm Peeta. I haven't formally met you, but despite that fact, I must tell you something. I'm in love with you-'re voice. Dear God, you're talented. I have to tell you that I've been staring at you these past few years like a demented psychopath. Have you been taking voice lessons? So anyway, what are your thoughts on… thoughts on… the weather? Do you wanna go out with me? Um, I mean to lunch? Pretty please?" I've been playing out these imaginary conversations in my head. I sound more and more like a hopeless dumbass, each and every time. I try to think of ways to branch out to her without saying anything. Because once I attempt to open my mouth around her, all hell breaks loose. I mean, is that even possible; to say something without using words?
I've been thinking about her more and more. Then it hit me. I haven't been seeing her at school lately. I curse myself and slap my own face for good measure. I remembered the headlines. Her father was killed in the accident. How could I be so idiotic? I remember seeing her at the market the other day, wandering aimlessly. It had been many weeks since the accident. How they've managed to survive that long without a man in their family was beyond me. Without a father, who was providing for the two girls? Well, definitely not their mother. After the explosion, I've barely seen her at all. Had Mrs. Everdeen ever leave the house ever since the accident? I doubt it. Could it be that Katniss was the one fending for her family? That couldn't be. Mrs. Everdeen isn't like that. She would never abandon her children. But then, I've seen the other widows since their husbands' departure: they've completely shut down. Was she going through the same thing?
Mother was scolding me for misshaping the bread again. She kept on complaining how the batter didn't rise enough for most of the pastries. Her voice shook with fatigue and boomed with aggression. She lectured about how customers weren't buying anything because of the lack of "presentation" and "workmanship".
When she was done and returned to the shop, I went out the back door. I needed the chilly air to think, and to revive myself from all of the crap that was going on. There she was: Katniss Everdeen.
She was the girl with a voice more mesmerizing than a choir of angels; with songs so beautiful she make mockingjays stop and listen. She was so different since I saw her last. She was now so…emaciated. Her cheeks were hollow, and there were circles under what used to be such dazzling eyes. Her clothes hung limply on her weakened body. There was grime under her fingernails. She was rummaging through our trash.
Was I hallucinating? No, she was all too real. Mother wouldn't like this. I didn't want to be the one to throw her out. I scrambled for the bakeshop. I had nothing to do with this. But was that even right for me to say? I popped a raisin loaf on the stove; the one with the roasted walnuts in it, and I was waiting for it to bake.
The stare she bore through my eyes was so strange. She looked, like she was pleading desperately. The strongest, most athletic girl of the class was…. Helpless. I never thought that description could ever be used next to her name. She always seemed so sure and so determined. Now, her life is hung on a thread. I felt like a murderer, walking away from her. I could've helped her and I was worried about getting my ass kicked by my own mom. How heroic.
As I was carefully pondering these things, I noticed how strange the air smelled. Oh, crap. The bread was burnt to a crisp. The crust was completely ruined, blackened and charred. I knew the inside was just fine, and I left it alone for just a minute too long. This can't be sold anymore. Mother is going to cut me to pieces. Katniss needs this, though. So I go outside, and give it to her. Who cares about what mom's gonna do, anyway?
I give it to her hurriedly, but I try to hide my expression as much as possible. I try to restrain myself from taking her up in my arms, cupping her ragged face in my hands and planting one on her. I've showed a little less restraint on the other girls in school, but it's different with her. It's definitely something I don't want to mess up. I run back inside. I peeked through the window. She was dumbfounded. She breathed in the scents of the bread, and cradled the loaf like a baby. She turned to walk away, but her expression was searching. She probably wanted to thank me.
"Peeta Mellark! Come here! I specifically called for ten raisin loaves! I'm sorry, is it so impossible for you to count?"
" But mom, I-"
"No excuses. Go finish-Wait."
She sniffed. I swear, she had an almost inhuman sense of smell.
"I'm sorry mom I-"
"You burnt one of them, didn't you?"
Everyone was silent. She pinched my earlobe with her steel fingers and dragged me up the stairs.
I was punished. My mom hated it when something was burnt. She considered it an error of exceptionally foolish neglect and stupidity. My arm was covered with bruises. She used a stick that was almost an inch thick and 12 inches long. Although she was severe, she was never malicious or cruel. I still got to eat that night, and she didn't give me any further punishment. She didn't even mention it the next day. "Peeta, you have no idea what the other people of the districts go through, and I don't appreciate it when you waste things like that. " That was the last thing she said, regarding my punishment.
I've never defied mother like that before. It seems like I was at the losing end. It seemed like I was completely selfless, and noble right? Well, to tell you the truth, it didn't feel like that at all. It felt-indescribable. I knew I could help her, and it was great to prove myself right. It felt amazing to be in that moment, sharing it with her and realizing that she could see me. I felt assured that she had at least a small glimpse of the unspoken feelings I had for her. My mom's not perfect, but my dad loves her anyway, in his own heart. He used to say that giving to the one you love was like repaying yourself a thousand times over. I found out what he meant by that.
"Peeta?"
Her voice made me remember where I was. I felt like I was floating off somewhere, and she was pulling me back to earth.
"Yeah, sweetie?"
"You're on oven duty. Pay attention, or you might burn something again."
"But this is our first day here. I didn't burn anything this whole time."
"I know. "
My eyes lit up, realizing what she was trying to say. Was she thinking about that too? She continued.
"I never really got to say thank you, after all those years. I still wonder why you did that for me. Was that out of pity or-"
I took her in my arms, and planted that kiss that I've been holding out on for so long. I pulled away, and smoothed out her hair. She opened her mouth to speak.
"Oh. So I guess it's not out of pity, then." She smiled.
"It's okay Katniss. Consider it repayed."
A.N: Thank you in advance for all of your comments and suggestions. Also, let's keep it fun! Do you have any Panem Pickup Lines for me? XD
