It must be the afternoon by now but I can't be sure. The sky has looked the same all day. All week, for that matter. Gloomy, dark, looming. I keep hoping that the rolling storm clouds will blow over but when they do, it blows another set right in and the rain continues.
The sun's prolonged vacation has begun to take a toll on me. I haven't been able to watch the much enjoyed sunsets with Peeta and I have no sense of time, which has led to me sleeping until late hours of the morning. I don't go into the woods anymore, for the simple reasons that my father's coat doesn't ward off the rain and that once beyond that fence, you are nearly completely surrounded by darkness.
Gale and I used to love the fact that the trees were tall and full because they would save us from the sun's rays on exceptionally warm evenings. But when the sun was hidden and the thick clouds closed off any possibility of escaping daylight, those trees seemed haunting. I felt like an animal, enclosed in a cage. And the forest was too quiet and eerie enough to make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. But most of all, it reminded me of the Games. It reminded me of all those nights that I spent alone, feeling cold and betrayed because Peeta was intent on killing me with the Careers, and then mourning in the silence with my guilt after Rue's death.
I shook off the thought of the woods and followed the muffled sound of clanking dishes. I already know who it is, of course. On multiple occasions, I have asked Sae to just stay at my house with me until the storming and the water settled. I hated the thought of her sludging her way through the already haunting town, soaked to the bone, just to deliver meals and daily cleaning. I hated the thought of her waiting on me anyway, but she would insist every time that I mentioned this. "Do not worry, child. It pleases me to see you enjoy a meal and get on with life, after all that you've done for the people. I enjoy spending time with a friend,"
It was the first time that I realized how Sae truly saw me. It was comforting to know that after all of the mistakes I've made and wrong doings I've done, someone could still see the good deeds. And she thought of me as a friend, which meant more to me now than having friends in the past ever meant.
When I rounded the corner and entered the kitchen, I found her with her back to me and a dish in one hand and a rag in the other. She was just cleaning up the dishes from last night, as I had told her to turn in early before it got too dark to see her way back home. It still amazed me, how her little beaten down house had seen the least of the damage when the bombing took place. However, I still hope that someday she'll change her mind and decide to live with me, instead of going back to her old place with poor conditions.
I hadn't said a word, but she must have heard me come in. "The boy brought these for you, early this morning." Sae said to me, her braided head nodding towards a small platter with three cupcakes, topped with frosted orange flowers and tiny green slants, which were easily recognizable as leaves. Orange and green. I wondered if he had purposely added both of our favorite colors.
"That was kind of him," I muttered as I took the one in the middle. It was too pretty to eat. "Help yourself to one, Sae. I can't eat all of these on my own." The old woman just smiled and carried about with her dish rinsing. I placed the colorful cake back in its place, promising myself that I would try it later.
As I left the kitchen, I snatched my coat from the back of a chair and told Sae, "I shouldn't be long. I'm just going to run to Peeta's for a bit." This was no news to Sae. I normally went over to his house, or he came over here. I wouldn't let the weather get between our daily meetings and he seemed to agree.
My boots sloshed across the dirt road that had become something of a small river, with all the rain water. The water wasn't deep, it only licked the sides of my boots, but it ran down the sloped road and into the town's streets. When I reached Peeta's door, I didn't bother knocking, as I would have a few weeks ago. We had regained most of the relationship that we had before, lacking only a few things like sleeping in the same bed. We were close again, the best friends that survived two Hunger Games and a rebellion together.
His front door swung open and I kicked the bottom of my boots over the rug, although it didn't do any good as it was soaked as well. So I squeaked my presence across the hardwood floor as I walked. "Peeta?" I called up the stairs but heard a reply from the kitchen behind me.
"In here, Katniss." I found him sprinkling white flour over the counter in front of him before slapping a large hunk of dough over top of it. Peeta had returned to baking lately, trying old recipes and such that he had forgotten over the years of the Games and the battles.
I watched him flatten out the middle of the dough with a rolling pin as I thanked him for the cupcakes. He smiled, "My pleasure." I settled myself on my usual stool at the counter and watched him prepare his next bakery item. Once in a while, I would question him about why he did something or how he knew how much to add. I picked up the rolling pin and spun it in my hands, examining it, while he turned to slip a loaf of bread into the heated oven.
"Peeta, this handle is broken." I examined, pinching the left side of the rolling pin between my fingers. It was limp, unlike the other side, and wobbled drastically. I wondered how he could do anything with it.
His eyes landed on the handle for just a moment before he turned to sweep some flour off of the counter into his hand. "Yeah." Was all he said. There was something in his voice that bothered me.
"How did it break, Peeta?" I asked, not expecting the answer that followed.
It took him a moment to answer my question. "My mom broke it," He said, not looking at me, while his flour-coated hand tapped the side of his head. Slowly, that registered in my mind, although it wasn't easy to take.
I gasped softly before speaking. "Peeta, why would she do something like that?"
He shrugged, as if it weren't a big deal. "I don't remember what it was for that time. I probably didn't scrape the bread pan good enough or threw out a bottle of frosting before it was empty,"
In that moment, I felt the one thing that I hated most. I pitied him. It was heartbreaking to think of little curly-haired Peeta being beaten and bruised by his mother all his life.
"Peeta, I'm so sor-" Crack! The words that were about to leave my mouth were interrupted by a loud whap of lightning, and almost over top of the sound of lightning striking something, thunder boomed.
Somehow, my eyes knew right where to look. Out the front window of Peeta's living room, I watched the bolt meet the end of the old tree that stood tall on the side of my house. The tree gave a horrifying quiver and before I knew what was happening, it was falling forward.
Everything seemed slow, like none of this was actually happening. At first, I expected to sit up in bed and shake it off as just another nightmare. But this was real. This was a real nightmare, I realized, as the large tree creaked down towards…
"NO!" I shouted, running through the living room and out the front door. "No, Prim!" I screamed in the rain, speeding towards the freshly fallen tree and the garden patch that Peeta had constructed for me the day that he had returned to District 12.
"Please, no." I cried as I fell to my knees and allowed my fingers to waver over the crushed primroses. The tree had killed them, killed them all. Killed Prim. "Prim. No, Prim. Please. Come back," I pleaded as rain drops and tears streamed down my cheeks.
"Katniss!" I could faintly hear above the roaring rain beating on rooftops and the tough fabric of my father's coat. "Katniss!" I heard again, closer this time. Then I felt soft hands on my shoulders.
"It killed her!" I wept to Peeta, falling closer to the ground, feeling myself sink deeper into the mud. It hit me then, like a ton of those heavy bricks that made up the house next to me. The tree didn't kill Prim, I did. "The Girl on Fire let me burn, the Girl on Fire let me burn…" I could hear her voice in the back of my mind. "Prim," I said, but it was no longer a frantic scream, it was a plea.
"Katniss, come on. Let's get in the house." Peeta tried to reason with me. His strong arms were hauling me to my feet from beneath my arms, like someone was leaning down to pick up a toddler. He pulled me up but my knees were weak. "I killed her, Peeta. She's gone."
"Katniss, you didn't kill her. The tree didn't kill her. Those are only flowers, Katniss. I'll fix them." He promised, pulling me close to wrap an arm around my waist and hold my own arm around his shoulder. "You can't, Peeta. She's gone." I repeated, making no effort to move my feet.
He pulled me closer to the front of the house. We had nearly reached the front steps of the porch when I collapsed. "Katniss!" Peeta yelled, but that was the last thing I heard. I was gone.
When I opened my eyes, I was staring up at the ceiling. I sat up, surprised to find myself covered in a light sheet and already changed into new clothes. There was proof that the previous events had happened, however, as there were muddy footprints where my boots must have been sat down before taken away to be cleaned and I could see dirt beneath my fingernails.
I was too late to hear the quick footsteps leading to my door before it flew open and banged against the wall. Haymitch stood in the doorway, dripping wet and ghost white. I was too shocked to ask but he quickly opened his lips to speak.
"You better come now," He huffed and added, "And quick." I swung my feet over the bed and they met the floor. I suppose my look questioned him further and as if to answer, he simply said, "It's Peeta."
Those two words frightened me. Haymitch spun to jog back down the stairs and I was hot on his heels. He opened the door to reveal two men stumbling up the road in the distance with a limp body swinging between them.
Squinting out into the rain didn't help much but as they grew closer, I gasped. "Peeta!" I yelled, not expecting him to answer in any way but his name escaped my lips time and time again as I ran forward to the porch's edge. Now I could see the two men that carried him.
The first one with his arms linked beneath Peeta's was Thom. I should have recognized him sooner. The second man who held Peeta's legs was one that I knew as a visitor from District 7, although his name had never been brought to my attention.
"What happened?" I demanded, trying to see around Thom to examine Peeta's state.
"Found him lying outside the fence boundaries with a shovel next to him. Must have been a branch that caused all that," Thom nodded downward and as they passed me with Peeta's unconscious body, I could see it. His blonde hair was matted in brown mud and if you looked closer, a deep scarlet color oozed from the side.
"Where do you want him?" The other man questioned, stopping to look around the room. I dashed forward to the table and threw the objects that sat on it to the floor. "Set him in here, just here on the table. I can clean him up here," I instructed.
There was a white rag hanging above the sink that I snagged and doused in warm water. When I turned back, Peeta was lying on the table and Haymitch had hustled the two men outside to further question what had happened.
Gently, and tentatively, I dabbed the gore and mess on the side of his head. Before long, my white rag was covered in mud and a lot of blood and as I cleaned away, I could see his wound more clearly. A long, jagged slice was visible from above the back of his ear to nearly the bottom of his head.
I shuddered, gently pressing my fingers to the deep spot on the top and thinking that I was glad that he wasn't awake for this.
"Well? How bad is it?" Haymitch's voice came from behind me. I didn't turn to look at him and I could hear him coming closer to see for himself.
"I think the top might need stitches," I pointed to the area that I was talking about. "As for the rest, I think it will heal just fine if we keep it clean enough." I silently thanked my mother for at least teaching me how to sew when I was young. I never had the patience enough to learn anything but sewing, for some reason, had caught my interest.
Haymitch nodded beside me. "Do you think you can handle it?" I sighed, looking down at it again. "I think we will be able to handle it just fine on our own. I can take care of this," I gestured to the side of his head. "But I'm going to need you to help me clean him up and get him off the table." I stared at Haymitch for a minute, waiting for a snide remark or some kind of scowl. But he just nodded.
"Found these in his kitchen," He set a bottle of pills on the edge of the table. "Bottle says they're pain killers for his leg. Figured it couldn't hurt to use now," He said before he started walking away. "I'll go check on Sae, let her know what's goin' on while you fix him up." Then the door shut behind him.
I was quick to open up the bottle and get Peeta just conscious enough to swallow some water to get the pain killer down. Then there was the issue of finding mom's old sewing kit.
Before long, and after many deep breaths, I found the courage in myself to begin stitching up his injury. Once it was started, it wasn't so bad. But as I finished it off and clipped the string, Peeta moaned.
"Are you alright?" I asked him, brushing his wet hair from his face. When he didn't answer, I continued. "Peeta?" There was a small grin forming on his face before he sighed, "I love the way you say my name."
I stopped, waiting for him to open his eyes and with a funny smile, exclaim, "Just kidding!" But he didn't. This wasn't like Peeta. Then I realized that it might have been the pill taking effect on his mind.
I stayed silent for a minute, waiting to see if he would say something else or tell me that he was in pain. He looked so childish when he was sleeping. So innocent. I took the advantage of him sleeping to clean up. I put the sewing kit away, in the closet where I found it. Then I rinsed the rag and watched the red and brown swirl together as they disappeared into the drain.
"Katniss?" I turned at the sound of his voice and walked forward to stand beside the table. "I'm here, Peeta." I assured him, lightly placing my hand on his shoulder. He nodded slowly.
"Shh, Peeta. Don't move, just lie still." I instructed him, pulling out a chair from underneath the table so that I could sit.
"What were you thinking, Peeta? Going into the woods alone, in a rain storm?" The questions suddenly sprang from my lips. I couldn't keep them in any longer, now that he was awake.
His eyes remained closed but his eyebrows pulled down and his lips did in a frown as well. "I was fixing them."
I scooted closer and placed my elbows on the edge of the table before letting my head rest on top of my hands. "Fixing what, Peeta?" I asked, confused and growing more and more frustrated with the seconds that ticked by and he didn't answer.
"I told you I'd fix them for you. For her," He mumbled. I could feel the tears stinging in the corners of my eyes, threatening to fall. I had forgotten about what happened, the incident with Peeta pushing all of that worry away to be replaced with the worry for him. "Those are only flowers, Katniss. I'll fix them." I could still hear him say.
I disguised those soft feelings of gratitude and appreciation with those of my anger and worry. "Peeta Mellark, you scared the hell out of me! Don't you ever do something so stupid and empty minded again. You could have gotten yourself killed, Peeta. And then-" His weak hand lifted up to take mine. I looked up to see that his blue eyes had finally opened and then realized that my own eyes had betrayed me. I hurriedly reached up to wipe at the falling tears.
His empty hand beat me to it. "I'm alright, Katniss." He whispered, gently touching the tear streaks on my face. "Don't cry," He ordered softly and then tried to smile. "Or Haymitch might think you've gone soft on us." The chuckle behind me made me jump up in my chair. Immediately, I wiped my face with the back of my sleeve.
Then, I turned to face Haymitch. He met me with an arrogant smile and as we were carrying Peeta in towards the living room couch, he looked up to deliberately meet my gaze and mouthed, "I told you so."
Once Peeta was down, he winced. I raced up the stairs to my bedroom and stripped my bed of both pillows and the sheet. I placed one pillow carefully behind his head and, before I could place the other, he asked if he could have that one to prop his leg.
"Are you comfortable?" I asked him, tucking the sheet around the side of the couch. He only nodded, the effects of the drug taking his consciousness away from him once more. "Alright," I said, letting my fingers trail the edge of the couch as I turned to walk back into the kitchen. Haymitch was gathering his jacket in his arms, readying himself to return home.
"Katniss, wait!" Peeta said urgently, his fingers pinching the hem of my t-shirt. I spun around, ready to ask what was wrong, which part hurt. "Don't go." He said, looking up at me.
I stared at him for a minute, waiting to see if this was just another passing episode that this crazy Capitol drug sent him into. But those blue eyes stayed on mine. "Please stay, Katniss." Peeta pleaded. As I looked down at him, he reminded me of someone years younger, seeking comfort the way that Prim had when she would sleep with mother.
Haymitch cleared his throat, pulling open the door. "I'll leave you two alone, then." He muttered, stepping through it. I watched him step out into the rain and a pressure on my hand brought my attention back down to Peeta.
"Alright, Peeta. I'll stay." I whispered to him, crawling onto the side of the couch and the little room that it offered. But once I was next to him, I didn't care how uncomfortable the couch may seem because I knew I would be plenty comfortable in his arms and completely free of my nightmares.
But I didn't sleep. I couldn't. Every single time that I closed my eyes, I kept seeing the toolbox in the shed. So deep in the night, when the rain on the roof sounded like nothing more than a light sprinkle, I untangled myself from Peeta's arms, slipped on my coat and boots, and trudged out to the shed. From the top of the toolbox, right where I left them, I could see the gold lettering glint from here. My fingers found the tapes. My past. My unwanted memories and burdens. My stories that would soon be portrayed before my eyes on the T.V screen that awaited inside with a sleeping Peeta.
I apologize for the wait on this chapter. I do hope that you enjoy it though. This one was a lot of fun to write and took some serious thought.
I want to inform you all now, and apologize in advance, that updates might not be coming as frequently. Starting tomorrow, I will be taking a class that will use up a majority of my writing time. But I won't cut you guys off. :) You'll just have to be a little more patient with me.
Big thank you's to everybody that has started reviewing. They're good to hear and they make me want to keep writing.
