A/N: You know what to do! Back to Katniss whose breaking our Peeta's heart. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.
Chapter 29
It's been nearly four months since I've been home now. I play along for Haymitch's sake. Letting him think I'm getting better but the truth is, this is just a game. There is nothing to get better for. Some days I get up, take a shower, get dressed. I never take a bath. I can't go there. I would fill the bathtub with cement but then it would fall through the ceiling and make bigger trouble for me. I eat minimal amount of food. Nothing tastes good to me anymore. I don't even get hungry. Ironically I spent half of my life starving and now I can only tolerate food. I could care less if I died. I've given up hope and I'm not ashamed to admit it.
Other days I stay in bed. Haymitch will leave me alone when he finds me this way. Outside of getting up to relieve myself, I stay in bed. Sometimes I sleep all day, only to be awoken by my nightmares. Other times, I'm literally comatose with my eyes wide upon. Either way, I'm an empty shell of my former self and I'm content this way. I had nothing left when I lost her. Lost my Primrose.
I miss her horribly. Everything I did to save her was all for naught. She was such a ray of sunshine in my dismal world. Up until I really met Peeta, I hadn't ever cared for anyone like I did for my sister. I mean, she was my sister, my flesh and blood. There was nothing that I wouldn't do for her. I proved that every single day of our lives. To lose her, and right at the end of the war, was very bittersweet. Nothing could dull the pain of losing her, but not having Peeta, made it a thousand times worse.
If Prim was alive, she would tell me not to give up hope on Peeta. That he gave me hope in the first place and loved me more than life itself. That he was broken too and was trying to recover what we lost. I don't care. If I allow myself to feel anything again, it will kill me. I loved him even more than Prim. I didn't think that was possible, but with a physical connection to Peeta, I would have to say that deepened the bond. I went against every single solitary belief that I had to be with him. I never wanted to marry, and certainly didn't want to fall in love. I never wanted to be as vulnerable as my mother when my father died. And here I am, in the exact same position. History has certainly repeated itself in the Everdeen family.
I'm tortured by Peeta. Night and day. He's pretty much all I think about. Haymitch tries to tell me things about Peeta's therapy. I don't even care. I am never going to make myself so vulnerable again. I had really hung in there in Thirteen, hoping that he would eventually get better. I loved all of our phone calls and stolen kisses. I could have waited forever until he snapped. I'm not even upset that he hit me and tried to force himself on me. He could have completed the act and I probably would have eventually forgiven him. IT wasn't him. Under normal circumstances, Peeta would cut off his arm rather than hurt me, ever.
But getting up in front of everyone and insulting me, messing around with that girl, it made something in me snap. It was like a colossal slap in my face. One that broke me down to the core. It was an unforgivable act. All the venom that spilled from his tongue came from some place deep down inside him. He said things that he must have thought or felt, at least at one time. They existed somewhere inside him. They weren't random and they weren't new. I'm not saying he wasn't remotely influenced. I'm saying that the words were his, no matter what. My already fragile self esteem just couldn't handle it. It still can't handle it, just thinking about it.
I've put up so many walls throughout my entire life that it surprised me how easily I let Peeta in. I think his devotion to me just simply swept me off my feet. Everything about him was amazing. Was. He's a monster now. The Capitol changed him and he will never be the same. He could randomly wake up one morning and slit my throat. How am I supposed to live like that? It's survival of the fittest out here. If I had stuck to that plan in the beginning, my heart wouldn't be cut like a jigsaw puzzle.
Haymitch keeps trying to break me down about Peeta too. He's like his advocate or something. Telling me that Peeta is trying to get better so that he can come back to Twelve and work things out with me. He wants to make sure that he won't hurt me. He has hurt me. He's already killed me. No amount of therapy is going to change that. I ignore my therapy altogether. Who needs therapy when you don't truly feel anything. I am a mere shell of my former self. I'm just going through the motions until I will this body to die or hang myself from a tree. If I could have brought myself to get in the tub, I know I would have drowned myself by now. I have no desire to live. I do know that I don't want Peeta back in Twelve. I don't want to see him and be reminded of my love for him. It would be like ripping the stitches out of a knife wound everyday. I know that I'll never heal, but I certainly don't want to cause unnecessary strain to myself by seeing him.
Haymitch has been laying it on thick about Peeta these last few days. I had asked him to draw up a new set of divorce papers and I know he's stalling. I've made my decision clear and I intend to stick with it. Peeta and I are through. I reached my breaking point. He broke my heart and then I lost my sister. I just don't have anything left to give. Everyone I love either dies or gets hurt. Everyone leaves me, not matter what I do. I hate to feel sorry for myself, but it's the truth. If I have to continue to live and breathe, well then I'm going to do it alone. I wouldn't survive reconciling with Peeta and then having an episode make him regress. I just can't go down that road again.
Haymitch is up to something. The past two days he's had Sae taking care of me. Been keeping his distance. I can't put my finger on it. Then it dawns on me. That filthy conniver. The divorce papers must have arrived. I'm already dressed and laying on the couch when I come to the realization. I put on my boots and trek over to his house. The door is locked. I know for a fact that he doesn't lock the door. I start banging on the door but he still doesn't answer. I try to peek through the window, no luck. Maybe he's gone into town? I can't figure it out.
The afternoon drags on and finally it's time for dinner. Sae makes a beef stew. She makes some kind of comment about how it would be nice to have squirrel once in a while but I ignore her. Even though it's been warm enough to hunt, I haven't ventured into the woods since I've been back. I spend all of my time hiding from memories of everyone. My father, my mother, Prim, Peeta, Gale, the Tributes and Games, and everyone else who died in the bombing of Twelve. Being in the woods would probably trigger a psychotic break. I'm barely living as it is, that would be the end of me physically. I already have no feeling left in me.
I'm just about to put my spoon in my bowl and Haymitch walks in the door. I immediately get up and start to rant on him. "Where have you been Haymitch? I've been looking for you half the afternoon. I know you were avoiding me today and I want to know why?" I barely get the words out of my mouth when the reason "why" walks in the door.
For the first time in many months, I stare into the blue eyes of Peeta Mellark.
