A/N-Update! So, what did you guys think of the movie? Right now, The Hunger Games is the number one book, album, and movie in North America! Anyways, this one was written by iam97, hope you like it! R&R, andwant you want to check out our other stories!
~Bree
Chapter 9:
She'd given up on moving. It didn't help. Neither did talking. Or screaming, for that matter. It wasn't as if she'd tried it, she just knew. Screaming wouldn't help after nightmares. Why should it now?
No, Katniss just sat there, on her bed, unmoving. The old parachute, from the second Quarter Quell, clutched tightly in her hands. It still held all the objects it had during the war.
A long time ago, that was what Katniss had thought it of. A reminder of the war that took everything away from her. On TV, they'd say Panem has been reconstructed. But they were wrong.
Yes, the shell was better. Of course, the President, Paylor, was good, the complete opposite of Snow. Although it had taken everyone a while to get used to the new politics, especially to a free election. Democracy. The land had lacked it for so long, it had been foreign the first time they'd used it.
But Katniss, and many other people, still suffered. The effects this war had on the population of Panem hadn't vanished. Katniss didn't think they ever would.
To others, perhaps. Some who hadn't been like her. But she'd been the Mockingjay. She'd been the girl on fire. Roles that were forced on her. She had been both, she had to admit that. The girl on fire, the girl who sparked the rebellion. The Mockingjay, the girl who was the symbol of the rebellion.
But that wasn't the question. The question was if she'd wanted to be either. And the answer to that was no, not after seeing the aftermath, not after seeing what it had done to her, to her family.
This brought her back to her current situation. Not only had they taken her sister, Finnick, Rue, Boggs, and so many others, no, they'd also taken Peeta away from her. She didn't know how, but if he really was still alive, and Katniss had come to think of that as a fact, Peeta Mellark was still alive, she just knew the old Capitol had something to do with it. Snow's last attempt at breaking her, even though at the point of time he died, Coin had done a pretty good job at that, and he had known.
And now Gale wasn't there anymore, and Katniss had no idea where to look for him. It was as though he had vanished.
The only thing that comforted her was that the odds that he'd died were slim. Surely they would have informed her, his wife, in that case.
Though, the possibility of his death…it wouldn't leave her. Maybe that's because she was, apparently, an angel of death. Whoever was close to her was bound to die. Maybe she should tell Haymitch, who was in the room next to hers, to run, run far away, and to never come back. Thinking of it, maybe that wasn't the worst idea. He wasn't really any help either way.
But then again, he was all she had left. Her mentor. How long would it take till her curse got him and destroyed him? Or was there anything to destroy? Had he anything left, anything except her?
She realized she was clutching the parachute even harder. Like a lifeline. It's what it had once been, all those years ago, in the Quarter Quell. A spile for water was what it had held.
Then, of course, a parachute could hold something destructive. A parachute with a bomb had destroyed her sister's life. And, of course, her own.
No matter if it helped or not, Katniss stood up and began pacing around again. Sitting was even worse. It felt like doing nothing. Even more than this.
"Sweetheart, this isn't going to help, you know?" Katniss felt like throwing a pillow at him. She knew that herself.
"Then what is, Haymitch? Nothing! Do you have any idea how I'm feeling right now? Do you…?" But she didn't bother saying more. No, there wasn't more to ask. Did he know how she felt? Yes, he did. His mother, his brother, his girl. All dead. And the letter must have given him hope, too. After all, Katniss knew he did love Peeta.
Haymitch shrugged. "Nothing. You're right. Except my pretty little friend here maybe." And there was actually a smirk on his lips, showing her he had already taken advantage of his 'pretty little friend', which was a bottle filled with liquor.
"Wanna take a sip?" His voice was slurring. Yes, he was definitely drunk. Katniss groaned. She did not need that now.
"Come back when you've sober!" But really, could she blame him? She, herself, wished for something to release the pain. And…escaping reality didn't sound too bad either.
But no. She has already done that once. And though she may not remember much of the night, but she certainly remembers the following morning. She shudders, not wanting to relive this. Plus…what problem had it solven, really?
"I am sober." He hiccupped. "Alright, sober by my standards. Consider this my state in your first Hunger Games. And I did pretty well as your mentor back then, didn't I?"
She let herself drop on the bed, frustrated. "Haymitch please. I…I can't deal with this right now." And then she let out another groan because she felt her eyes starting to tear.
She brought her hands up to cover her face. No, she wouldn't cry now. Maybe, if she kept telling herself, she wouldn't. She didn't want to. She didn't want to appear weak.
Deep down, of course, she knew she was. But she didn't want to accept it, especially not after this argument with Haymitch. Which hadn't nearly been the worst we ever had.
She felt the mattress sink further as someone sat down beside her. "I'm not going to lie. I'm not going to tell you it's going to be alright. I don't make promises I can't keep. I only tell you it'll get better. And Katniss…he'll come back to you. At least one of them."
A/N-Any suggestions, questions or comments are welcome. Review please!
~Bree