Yay! 11 reviews so far. Sorry I couldn't update this very recently, there is a lot of school projects and stuff I have to keep in mind. Thank you for reading my story! And remember, reviews=happy me=faster writing.
Katniss as We Know it
Peeta P.O.V.:
My sobs continue on and on. When I must've cried out all my tears, it turns out there are more. Nothing will ever stop them from flowing. Hopefully, I will eventually dehydrate myself for letting go of all this excess water. Then when I'm dehydrated, I'll die and live with Katniss forever. Maybe I'll just starve myself to death. I begin to think of different ways I could die. Nobody in their right mind would give me a weapon at this point. So stabbing myself isn't a choice for suicide. Are you, are you, coming to the tree…. That song that Katniss used to sing plays in my head. Rope. I have none. Plus, where are there any trees to hang myself from? I look up to see if there is any other means of suicide possibilities around me. None whatsoever. Cressida and our crew huddle nearby, unsure of what to do. And there's Gale lying on the pavement. I crawl over to the hole where I banished Katniss to. Sitting cross-legged, I let my tears drop through the hole. They make a tiny Splish sound as they hit the ground.
Suddenly, a wave of anger washes through me. But this time it's not for my dead love. It's for me. I feel no self-pity, only self-loathing. How could I let this happen? It was my job to protect her in life, and I let her down. There is nothing for me now. I might as well die. Yes, death seems rather pleasurable right now. But do I deserve something pleasurable? I just caused the death of someone that I love. Shouldn't I be punished for that? The ultimate punishment would be life. For then I would have to live out my days in sorrow. But I don't want to do that. I decide I'll allow myself to die, but first I need the means to do it by. Something halts my thoughts. A sound, so quiet, comes up towards me from Katniss' direction. The words are floating on the wind. I freeze in terror, fearing that the words are I hate you.
"I love you Peeta…" The voices say.
This makes me feel even guiltier. How could Katniss still love me after I just sent her to death? I do not deserve her love. I do not deserve anything.
Heartbroken, I reply with a shaky "I love you Katniss…" I wonder if she even survived those last few seconds to hear my reply. I love Katniss. Katniss loves me. Katniss is dead. Katniss is dead because of me. I'm worthless. Slowly, I force myself to say goodbye to her. I cover up the hole and slide the plate into place. It results in a loud click. Soon I realize that my energy has left me. I couldn't open that manhole again if I tried. But I know I had to close it. Those mutts would be scrambling up here as soon as they finished eating Katniss' body. I shiver at the ugly thought. My suicide could've been just giving in to the mutts, but Gale deserved to hear of Katniss' death from the man that caused it. He did love her too.
It seems like hours till Gale finally regains consciousness (though it's probably only been half an hour). Immediately he sits up and glances around. Apparently unaware of the dried blood clogging his nose.
"Where's Katniss?" He asks kind of groggily.
I'm about to answer when I see the look in his eyes. They go quickly from questioning to sorrow to hatred. It scares me. But telling Gale of Katniss' fate was the sole reason for me not committing suicide right away. "I h-had an a-att-attack and," I stumble on the word attack. I had attacked Katniss. My throat closes up and my tears only make it harder to speak. "And I-I lost it, Gale" I nod towards the direction of the hole. I can't speak anymore. I can't even really see. Now that I think about it, I can only feel, and I feel wet. Wet tears.
Gale knows what I mean by my indication. He clenches his fist and grits his teeth while trying not to cry. What's the point of acting tough? I want to ask him. But I leave him to his feelings and actions. Hoping, maybe he will kill me. But his next words sadden me.
"I'm not going to kill you, Mellark." Gale says. A tear escapes his eyes. He angrily wipes it away, frustrated at his futile attempt at being strong.
"Why?" I ask, because I genuinely want to know.
"Because…she wouldn't have wanted me too…" He replies. His tears fall freely now. And Gale soon gives up on wiping them away.
An awkward silence develops. Two heartbroken men crying their eyes out and who don't even try to comfort each other. That's what we are. "Do you want to live?" I ask Gale. He waits a long time before responding.
"Yes and no. I'll never be the same without Katniss, but I have to be there for my family." He says.
I understand what he means. Gale has people to go back to; on the other hand, I do not.
"Do you want to live?" He asks me hoarsely.
"No" I reply grimly. "End it for me" I ask him.
Gale must've seen the pleading look in my eyes. "She wouldn't want me to" He says.
"I don't care, besides it wouldn't be out of hatred, you would be killing me out of my own desire" I say back.
"Are you sure?" He asks.
"Surer than I'll ever be."
Gale lends me his hand. I take it in one last act of peace between us. I stand up and run my hands through my hair. Gale holds his hand out. We shake hands. Gale walks away and picks up his fallen rifle. Loading it with one bullet, he turns to face me. Am I imagining it, or is there a fragment of sadness in his eyes? Must be for Katniss, definitely not for me I think dismissing the thought. I straighten my back and take a deep breath. Gale positions his fingers on the gun. I draw an X over my heart. A wave of sorrow cascades down on me while I remember telling Katniss to shoot Cato's hand in our first Games. I drew an X over his hand to tell her where to shoot.
"You were always hard to hate, Mellark." Gale says. "Dying like this," He shakes his head. "Proves your worth." The next words stun me. "I'll miss you bakerboy."
"Thanks for that." I say. His grey eyes bore into my blue ones. Gale steadies the gun and aims at my heart. I hold my breath and force myself to keep my eyes open while I prepare for the shot.