Chapter 8 - "We were all children."
5 years later
"Willow, go wake up Pippa." I wipe the table with a damp cloth, avoiding Pippa's untouched breakfast.
A scream and an eruption of laughter sends me near boiling point - this has not been a good morning without noise. "Girls! Stop messing about!"
"They're only messing about." Peeta says,
"Did you not hear what I just said?"
Peeta smiles and goes back to icing the cake.
"You know," I say, whilst flopping the cloth into the empty sink, "That's already supposed to be finished. It needs to be there in less than an hour."
"Perfection takes time." With yellow icing, a single sheath of corn takes limelight proudly on top of the cake.
Willow and Pippa come running in, laughing with each other. "Girls..." I warn, and they stop. They face me, and I inspect them. Willow's long blond hair is tied back with a blue ribbon into a bun, and she wears a summary white dress, with lacey frills everywhere on it. Pippa had put an emerald green hair band on, to match her eyes, with her wavy brown hair let loose. A lilac dress given as a birthday present, suits her perfectly, giving her equal innocence and 12-year-old quirky-ness.
"Beautiful." I sigh and they laugh.
"I really can't wait for this to be over." Willow says, fiddling with her dress. "Then I can get excited about my 10th birthday tomorrow."
"It might be your birthday but Reaping Day is a celebration for all the corn and supplies, everything in general really. We're lucky our town is self-sufficient, some towns have to wait for things to be transported in. But here, everything is handed to us on a silver platter." I explain, reminding myself of past Reaping Days...ones with completely different meanings. Now, Reaping Day is basically Harvest day. We harvest all the fields, and celebrate our living and the accomplishment of all crops and corn alike succeeding.
"Your mother is right. Now, who wants to see the finished cake?" Peeta teases the same as every year when he always makes the celebration cake.
"Don't tease them, you always do." I laugh.
"Tease? Me? Never."
"I want to see the cake!" Thresh calls, and speedily comes into the room.
"So do I!" Willow licks her lips.
Pippa just stands there, eyebrows raised, highly doubtful.
"Well, that's too bad. You'll have to wait - the same as everyone else." Peeta laughs, then turns to the cake, still covering it, to put it in a box. When he turns back, he holds the brown box, containing future memories of delicious happiness. "Come, willow, help me load it into the cart." We use the cart to carry things to close distances. It is a bench big enough for three children, or two adults, and has two poles sticking out so that can someone can drag it along. Thresh hopped up onto the cart and Willow put the cake on his lap. She then climbed up and stopped herself from peeking at the cake.
"Pippa! Come on!" Willow called.
"Go without me, I'll go with mum." Pippa replied and Peeta and I exchanged a shrug. Peeta set off, dragging the cart towards the town square.
Pippa waved then turned to me.
"Yes?" I say, fluffing the pillows on the sofa.
"I want to know."
"Know what?" I eye her, then continue fluffing.
"The book." She walks to the corner and picks it up.
"What about it?"
"What is it?"
"Haven't you opened it?"
"You said I couldn't."
"Rules are quite frankly made to be broken."
"Are you suggesting I open it?"
"Are you suggesting you really want to know?"
"Mum! Can I look through it? And have you explain it to me."
"Not now. After the Reaping. We'll leave early. I promise. OK?"
"Fine."
"Now run, catch them up. I'll be there in a minute." She ran off, leaving me in tatters. This was it. It was time to tell her. I sighed all-too-heavily. What was I going to say? 'Hey Pippa, here's an aunt you never knew about because she died, and this is her goat.'
After the 4 tier cake was shown and slices were given out, the party really began. Although it was early Autumn, cold weather was already sailing in. A single cloud partially hid the ever-burning sun, and wind bit at my bare arms. A few goosebumps appeared, and I rubbed them, half-heartily trying to warm myself. I found Pippa and Peeta and we walked home. We'd be back before the party ended.
"Is this true? All of it?" Pippa was wide-eyed after just being told about The Hunger Games.
Peeta nodded.
"This was my sister, your aunt." I showed her the drawing of Lady and Prim. I fought back tears. "She died."
Well, no, duh. I think to myself, trying to be mean to myself so I can bring myself back down from Crying101.
"We were all children in the games. It was brutal." Peeta stroked Pippa's hair.
"Why did they let you two win? They didn't care about you."
"They needed a winner." I say bluntly, remembering too many deaths.
"Or two." Peeta takes my hand, and I blink several times. Pippa freely flicks through the book, not questioning anybody's existence.
After a while, I stand up, and look at the two of them cuddled on the floor; "People will notice our absence now. Let's head back. Let's say that Pippa felt sick, but she's fine now."
Pippa hurried up, and started dreamily walking up the lane, with Peeta and I behind.
"You don't have to be so blunt about it."
"It's not being blunt, Peeta. It's being honest, and laying it all straight."
"You know that I love you, right?"
"Always. Of course."
"Then think about that."
I sigh. What would our lives be like if this whole thing hadn't happened to us two? What if it was Madge? Gale? Would the rebellion continue? It is a matter I never want to think about again now that images have come to the short that is my mind.
That night, as I go to bed and check in on all three children, I worry. It could've easily not have stopped the games. They could've gone into the games. I shake my head. NO.
The games have gone.
Time has moved on.
Focus on small, silly things like how that rhymed.
We have the time to do that now, worry about our looks.
Our lives.
But not our deaths. Not yet.
This is, as before...
Case closed.
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