Together? Together.
I never thought I would be able to live this long. I was used to live one day at the time. Even after the war, nothing seemed certain. It's Peeta who helped me to trust in the future, have faith in what comes next. We built our life in this new world, together, side by side. It was not always easy, our life was not a bed of roses, but we held on. He gave me hope, enough hope to overcome my biggest fear to have children. And I was right to trust him because they never went to bed hungry, they never had to fear the reaping, never had to watch these games. We took care of them in every way that we could, and we cherished them. Of course, our children heard about the games, and we had to discuss it with them. They heard their mother scream at night and saw their father struggling against his flashbacks, holding to the back of a chair. I remember their pain and tears. But I also remember about all the joy emanating from them, the days at the lake, the holidays at the beach in District 4, when we taught them how to walk, read, swim, sing, bake, and hunt. We were happy all together.
Our children are now grown adults, both are married and have children on their own. And if they manage to live their best, things are getting more complicated these past few years for Peeta and I. This is what happens when you are getting old. We both afflicted with arthrosis, I lost the use of my left ear, making it more complicated to sing. But I don't really complain, because Peeta suffers more than I do, his artificial leg causing him more pain with age.
Despite all of this, we were holding on, like we always did. Except a few months ago, during a routine check-up, Peeta was diagnosed with cancer, and the doctor told us he only had a few weeks to live. And these lasts weeks will be painful, even with some medication. Peeta asked for being euthanize medically, not wanting to live the limited time he has left agonizing. He suffered enough in the past. But the doctor refused, arguing that it was still illegal as the deputies did not yet agree on this proposition law.
I cried a lot this day. And the next days. Death has been omnipresent for a long time in my life as well as his, but the fear of losing each other seemed more irrational as the years passed. This time, it is real.
We had to tell the children. We wanted to be honest with them, and that is why we also told them about my idea. At first, they got angry, screaming at me with their eyes full of tears. I felt bad myself for leaving them, understanding that losing two parents at the same time is of course harder than losing just one. But they have their own life, their children, their home, their jobs. They won't have much time to come and see me, they won't have time to help me every day with the most basic tasks. And I refuse to go to the retirement home, where I would be alone with compete strangers and no autonomy. So, after a heartbreaking discussion, they agreed, and we decided a date to do it.
As I wake up in the morning of this day, I feel less scared than I expected. It has been a long time since I woke up knowing I did not have much time left, but this is so different from the games. I was only a teenager, not in my eighties. And I'm not being sent to a violent death in an arena to entertain people.
We spend the day with our family, laughing with our children and playing with our grandchildren. They try hard not to cry in front of the kids and hug us for a long time when we say goodbye. I am myself fighting to hold back my tears, and so is Peeta. When the kids are not watching us anymore, we all let our tears flow down our faces.
Once they're gone, we walk with great difficulty to the lake. It takes us at least as twice as time that we used to before, when we were younger. It's a been quite a while since we've been there. It became too difficult to go regularly. But we wanted to see the meadow one last time and we manage to get there before the sun sets. On our way, I find berries in the woods around, and take some in my pocket. We sit with difficulty on the blanket and eat our last meal prepared for us by our children. They cooked us lamb stew with dried plums and baked us some cheese buns, mostly for me I admit. But they also baked cinnamon roll because they are Peeta's favorites. When we are done, the sun is almost disappearing. After several minutes of silence between us, I take the berries out of my pocket and hold him some while his eyes are watching me. He takes them before kissing me.
Our children were not the only ones against my idea. Of course, Peeta was opposed to it and we argued for days. But here's the truth: he's dying. And I am not willing to spend the few years I may still have without him. He finally understood my decision, or maybe he was too tired to fight against me because after all, I'm more stubborn than he is.
There's something ironic I suppose, in committing suicide after fighting for so long to survive. But we survived many times already. I survived starvation, he survived child abuse, we both survived two Hunger Games and a war. And we did not just survive, we lived a long and happy life - a life I've never dared to imagine.
"I want to sing one last song." I told him.
"Of course, I'd like to hear you one last time.", he answers, his eyes still fixing mines.
I don't have to think very long to find a song. I remember singing it with my father. It seems like an eternity ago now.
I'm going to take a trip in that old gospel ship
I'm a-going far beyond the sky
I'm gonna shout and sing til heaven rings
When I hid this world goodbye
I have good news to bring, and that is why I sing
All my joys with you I'll share
I'm going to take a trip in that old gospel ship
And go sailing through the air
I can scarcely wait, I know I won't be late
I'll spend my time in prayer
And when the ship comes in, I'll leave this world of sin
And go sailing through the air
If you are ashamed of me, you ought not to be
Yes, you'd better have a care
If too much fault you find, you will sure be left behind
While I'm sailing through the air
I wonder if Heaven really exists, like in the songs my father taught me. I wonder if I could see him again, see them all again. And if Peeta could see his family and friends too. As I sing the last words, the mockingjays around us take over and whistle my farewell.
"Thank you for everything Peeta. For saving my life, for helping me, for staying with me, for loving me. You gave me hope when no one else could. I couldn't possibly imagine what my life would have looked like without you. I love you with all my heart." I've never been great with words, and the years never changed that, but because there are the ones that I am going to tell him, the last words I will pronounce on this Earth, I feel more at ease.
"I love you too. And I could tell you the exact same thing. You saved me more times than I can count. You didn't give up on me even if you could have. I am so lucky I had you in my life. I've always wished to be with you and these years we had together were like a dream come true."
He leans forward and kisses me again. I put my hands on his cheeks and kiss him harder.
"Together?" He asks me.
I look into his blue eyes that time did not fade, but that death will close in a few seconds now.
"Together." I answer.
Holding one hand, we raise slowly the other to our mouth, my eyes never leaving his, and his never leaving mines.