I remember once I was in the woods with my father, walking along the creek when I suddenly slipped on a mossy rock. It seemed as if in that one instant the whole entire world stopped. That's how I feel right now. I feel like the world just paused for a moment, giving me a second to absorb information.
'That you might be in love with him.' Is that what Gale thinks? Is that the cause of all of his anger and frustration? Well then he's definitely wrong. The mere thought of anything romantic between Peeta and I is clearly incredulous. Or is it? I think of the times we've spent together recently. Was there any slight hint of feelings between us?
"That's a lie," I tell him forcefully.
"Didn't seem like it today."
"Didn't seem like it? Gale, I had to help him!" I shout, trying to prove him wrong.
"You didn't have to enjoy doing it," he mutters, looking at the floor.
"You think that I go to work for fun? Ha!" My ironic and mocking laugh echoes around the room.
"Who do you think I am? Some person who…who spends her time fooling around with a boy she barely knows? If you think I'm that girl, then you don't know me. I'm not even sure I know you," I say.
We stare into each others eyes, defiant, not wanting to give up our position. Finally, Gale turns around and heads out the door.
While settling down, I realize how badly my head has faired my shouting match. My throat feels scratchy and I have a pounding headache. The blanket seems hot, too hot and I rip it off.
At first I feel triumphant, happy at the fact that I have "won". But soon in its place I feel guilt, guilt so strong for turning Gale against me, the one true friend I knew I had. If I wasn't so proud, so vain, then we would have never fought. If I wouldn't have gotten so offended then perhaps we could just be the partners we were before, before any of this ever happened. Then suddenly a bigger, more direct blaming comes in: Peeta.
He's the reason for all of this. All of it. If he hadn't entered the picture, Gale and I would still be friends. I wouldn't have to deal with another person in my life. Why he was picked that day to be my partner, I have no idea. The one thing I know is that it caused a great deal of unwanted chained events to happen. Events that I honestly could live without. Events that would change my life.
My mother enters, bearing medicine and a cloth. Little Prim follows, a bit reproachful. I wonder if she heard me yelling. If that why she looks at me with fear in her blue eyes?
"Prim," I say, drawing her near, letting her know that I would never yell at her.
"Mother has some things for you to help you feel better," she quietly says.
She sets the medicine and cloth upon the table while I murmur a silent thank you. I suppose Prim decides that I am cooled down and she sits on my lap while I stroke her hair.
"Tell me a story," she says, asking like she used to when she was young. The only difference was that she asked my father, not me. I can't really substitute. Racking my brains for any happy memory, I come up a fleeting recollection: my first day of school.
"Do you want to hear about my first day of school?" I ask her. She nods, her eyes bright in anticipation.
"Well that morning I was really nervous. I had butterflies in my stomach and I couldn't eat anything."
"Just like I was my first day."
"Oh, no, Prim. I was more nervous than you," I tell her. Prim's eyebrows go up, shocked.
"I was so nervous that I hid so that I didn't have to go."
"What happened?" Prim asks excitedly.
"Father found me, obviously. He told me not to be nervous, that school would be fun."
"Did you believe him?"
"Not at first," I say, smiling and remembering that moment.
"So I walked to school holding his hand all the way. When we had to say good bye he said 'Don't worry, Katniss. I'm always with you.'" I pause for a moment, thinking of how my father could always manage to make me feel better and a lump rises in my throat.
"That morning the teacher asked us if anyone wanted to sing the valley song. I immediately thought of Father singing it to me, and right then I knew that I just had to sing it, for him. And as I sang all of my worries drifted away. After that I was no longer nervous." Looking down, I give Prim a small smile.
"Can you teach it to me?" she asks.
I haven't sung since my father died. I'm not even sure how well I can sing now, being years out of practice. But this is Prim and for some reason I can't resist any of her requests.
"It goes like this," I tell her, and sing the first chorus. Every word has been etched into my memory with my father teaching me these songs. At first my voice is scratchy, dull, but then it turns into something beautiful. Prim soon learns the tune and we sing quietly together until she slowly falls asleep.
Her blonde hair brushes my shoulder and I braid it, taking care to make sure it looks beautiful.
"Good night, little duck," I whisper, pulling the other half of my blanket over her. I stand up and stretch my muscles, sore from sitting too long. Immediately my head starts spinning and I'm forced to sit back down. I slowly make my way into the kitchen, keeping my head still in case it feels dizzy again. I find my mother in the kitchen and she asks if I feel any better.
"Yes, I do. I drank the medicine," I say.
"You won't be going to school tomorrow, Katniss."
"I have to! I've never missed a day-"
"And missing one day won't hurt," she interrupts.
"But-"
"You still have a fever and your head hurts, no?" It's pointless to correct her, my head feels like lead.
"Mother, I need to go to school. They'll give me loads more homework," I explain.
"Your health is more important than school work," mother replies, as calm and as rational as ever.
"I'd rather be doing school work than stuck at home!" I snap, slamming down upon the chair while jabbing moodily at a piece of chicken. My mother remains silent, a steel frown on her face. I know I've lost the battle when she stops speaking back. Still, I attempt to head to school after a blaring alarm clock wakes me up.
"Go to bed," my mother says, not even looking at me.
"I feel better," I tell her, trying to look healthy. It doesn't work because she soon feels my burning forehead and large bump and directs me up the stairs. I have no choice but to go.
I spend the day staring at my ceiling, counting how many times the bug flies from place to place. In all, about thirty times he goes from one spot to the next. My brief break comes when Prim enters, carrying a few of my heavy textbooks.
"Thank you, Prim." I glance down at the sheet, seeing the immense amount of work.
"How was school?" I ask.
"Okay," she answers.
"Are you feeling better?" she asks, concerned.
"Yes," I tell her, and for once it's true. Prim completely lifts my spirits. This definitely beats watching the bug.
"Are you going to be alright, here by yourself?"
"Of course I am. I managed it for seven hours before, right?" I grapple for my books inside the bag and pull out my heavy United States history book. We've moved on from the war project, Peeta and I achieving our well-earned A, and we're now on the Great Depression. A series of questions follow the lesson, and I have to "write well written, thought-out answers to all of the questions". Sooner or later, I finish most of it.
A picture of a kitty is what jolts me. Addie. I completely forgot to head over there today. Perhaps it was the whole no go to school, no go to work idea that made me forget but being sick doesn't excuse me from not going to work. I decide that tomorrow I'll work more hours to make up for the missed session.
Beep, beep, beep goes the alarm clock and I'm jerked from my dreamland into a harsher, rougher reality. I think back to my dream, how I was walking peacefully in the woods surrounded by light and green. Shaking my head, I dress quickly.
I once thought that a single day changes nothing, but it turns out my thoughts were anything but truth. The most dread special starts: gym. For some odd reason, gym starts the third week of school. Perhaps it's the teacher, who loves torturing students with running and weights. She loves giving us an unreal "break" before she grinds us with different techniques on the best way to make our bodies sore. By the way she glares at me I can tell gym started yesterday.
"Everdeen. You were missing yesterday," she snarls. I gaze up at this woman, this woman I despise and want nothing more than to reciprocate the same agony on her.
"I know." It's rash, but I've never been one to think rationally.
"Looks like you're feeling a bit daring today, huh? Well I'll let you know one thing. It won't last long," she says with an evil glare in her eyes. I know I'll pay for it dearly later.
Today we're forced to run. But no, this is not normal running. This is running while attempting to dodge random buckets of water being poured down our head.
"You're going to have to run in the rain sometime. Might as well get used to it now," she says harshly, clarifying the reason why water is being poured on us. And if we complain, she'll give us a whole lecture about how back in her day they made her run while it was snowing and how we're such babies. The scars of gym teacher lecture. Oh, joy.
Geometry class offers even worse news: I failed a test we took due to my misunderstanding of the subject. During lunch Madge informs me of the other work I missed, work never written on the paper. Throughout history I avoid Peeta's eye, determined to go unnoticed by him. I still haven't forgiven him for ruining my life.
After school I walk to Addie's, determined to apologize for my forgetfulness. Ringing the doorbell, I wait as I always do, taking in the worn sidewalk. One minute...no Addie…two minutes…no Addie.
After three minutes I begin to get an uneasy feeling. Addie usually answers right away, there never is a wait. A long list of mishaps begins to form in my head. They range from Addie dying from food poisoning to her slipping on brownie mix. As I walk in I call out for her. "Addie? Addie!" My shouts become louder and louder, most likely waking up anyone within a mile radius. My shouting only stops when I find Addie. Arms folded perfectly as if asleep, lying in her is only one problem. She is dead.
:) Did you enjoy? Please give me feedback. It could be anything, whether you're liking the story so far or whatnot. I still feel bad for Gale. :(