We are now reaching the end of may, which means that I turned 18 just a few weeks ago. It also means that summer is gradually making its way to district 12. The trees and the flowers have come back to life, giving a little color to the mostly gray land – or so I've been told this morning when Greasy Sae showed up to check on me. Other than just trying to shove food down my throat, she always makes sure to talk to me, to keep me entertained and informed about what's going on outside of my house, which I refuse to leave. Most of the time, I don't even respond, but that doesn't seem to bother her, since she loves to talk.
Everyday is the same: she comes in and greets me cheerfully; proceeds to tell me about the weather, the reconstruction of the district, and gives me updates on the government's decisions for our country; moving on to the kitchen, she checks if I ate the dinner that was left for me the day before – complements me if I did, lectures me if I didn't; she makes me eat breakfast, seats near me at the couch and talks a little more; she gave up making me lunch a while ago, because I always rejected it, so she takes this time to tidy up the house a little bit; she makes dinner and can only hope I will eat it as she leaves.
I haven't seen Haymitch since the day we got back to 12 – he's probably too drunk to keep his promise to babysit me, right now. Peeta shows up sometimes, always bringing with him fresh bread and our memory book. We work on it quietly – I write, he illustrates. He tries to make me engage in conversation, but I just don't have the energy for that. It seems that I don't have the energy for anything lately. I appreciate his efforts and the company anyway, because it allows me to escape my own head for a while.
From my spot on the couch, I can hear Greasy Sae finishing dinner at the kitchen. I'm so used to the sounds of her working that, closing my eyes, I can practically see her in my mind – filling a pot with water, turning on the stove, cutting what I assume to be vegetables and putting everything together. After some time, the smell that fills up the house confirms that shes making soup. But what I hear next is completely unexpected and disconnected from our daily dynamic.
The loud knock on the door startles me, making my eyes fly open. It's such a foreign sound to me and it doesn't make any sense. Peeta never knocks; Greasy doesn't knock, and she's also already at my house; no one else visits me. I start to feel anxious, locking my eyes at the door and wondering who might be standing outside. My brain works to create thousands of the worst possible scenarios, making my heart race. I think about getting up and answering, but Greasy beats me to it and I hear her animated voice as she seems to recognize the visitor. I'm about to ask who it is when she calls out to me. "Katniss! Get up, girl, your friend is here to see you!"
Friend? This sounds foreign to me too. What friend? Greasy stands aside, holding the door open to allow the visitor in, and my heart skips a beat as I take in the sight in front of me. Without an invitation, Johanna Mason, with a bag over one shoulder, starts to walk towards me, her short, messy hair getting down to her ears now. She's still a little pale and has some dark circles under her big brown eyes but seems to have put on some weight. Overall, Johanna looks a lot better and healthier than she did when I last saw her. She drops the bag in the middle of the living room and looks around curiously, finally fixating her eyes on me. Unceremoniously, she lets herself fall into an armchair right across from me. "Are you not going to say hello to me, brainless?"
I'm speechless. Luckily for me, Greasy cuts into the conversation saying: "Well, dinner's ready. I'm gonna go and let you girls talk. See you tomorrow, Katniss!" I watch her go and see the door close behind her.
"Dinner?" Johanna asks in her usual high-pitched voice "Good, I'm starving!" She gets up and heads to the kitchen, stopping and turning around when she realizes that I'm not following her. "What? First you don't speak and now you won't eat either? You know that I'm not going to feed you, right, Everdeen? So, you better get up before I eat everything by myself."
I don't move. "What are you doing here?" is what I let out.
"Wow" she looks incredulous and I can't tell if it's genuine or not. "What a nice way to greet a guest." she says ironically.
"No, I didn't mean it like that, I–" My voice fades and I feel exhausted. Not wanting to have to explain myself, I say: "Never mind."
"I know what you meant, brainless", she smirks. "There's no special reason for me to be here, really. Been wandering around the country ever since the end of the war and decided to spend a few days with my favorite roommate." She pauses, measuring me with her eyes. "Unfortunately, Haymitch didn't let me stay at his place. But you were the second-best option, so here I am!" she says in a fake excited tone. Noticing that I'm unresponsive, she rolls her eyes at me and adds: "That was a joke, his house stinks."
"So, you're staying here? For how long?" I ask Johanna, ignoring everything else that she had said.
"Of course I am! What did you think the bag was for?" she says, pointing at it still lying on the floor. "I'll stay for as long as you let me stay. It's not like I have anything better to do, anyway."
"Ok." I look at her for a while, not knowing exactly what to say next. "You can take your stuff to the guest room. It's up the stairs, first door to the righ–"
"Guest room?" she cuts me, "You want me to stay at the guest room so I can wake up in the middle of the night, hearing you scream because of a nightmare and have to go after you, to make you shut the fuck up? No way, where's your room?"
I don't know if it's the way she talks about my nightmares like they're a big problem that she has to deal with or the mocking expression on her face that gives me fuel to answer, looking deep into her eyes: "Well, before I let you sleep in my bed, I need you to tell me something." She looks at me, an eyebrow raised. "How often have you been showering?"
The question hangs in the air for a while. She seems surprised, impressed even. When I start thinking that I might have crossed a line, Johanna laughs and says: "Ay, look who's back. I was starting to worry about you, Everdeen. And I probably shower as often as you do. Have you looked at yourself lately? You look awful."
She's not wrong. I don't even remember the last time I showered; my nails are long and dirty; one of the first things I did, months ago when I got to district 12, was cutting my hair short, having the parts that got burned as a guide, so it's actually not much longer than hers and completely uneven; I lost a lot of weight; I also don't remember for how long i've been wearing the clothes i'm in right now. "Ok, but to be fair, I don't sleep in my bed" is the smartest comeback I'm able to give her.
She looks puzzled. "You're not telling me that you sleep in this couch, are you?" I don't answer. "You've got to be kidding me. Alright, this changes today. From now on, you and me both sleep in your bed. It's not like we've never done this before, right?"
"Shower first" I try.
"Maybe" she answers, but I notice that her eyes become a little unfocused at the thought.
"I can help you. It's not like we've never done this before, right?" I quote what she just told me.
"Are you going to tell me where's your room or not?" she insists.
"Up the stairs, second door to the left." I think it's better to let her change the subject for now.
She gets up, picks up her bag from the floor where she had dropped it and heads upstairs. Watching the small figure disappear, my mind wanders back to district 13. I remember how she used to wake me up when the nightmares wouldn't leave me alone, until we agreed it was just easier if she slept in my bed. All the times I tried to help her bath, the small progress she made every time and how happy we both were when she was finally able to wash the little hair that was growing in her head. I also remember the way we danced together at Finnick and Annie's wedding. But thinking about Finnick hurts, so I should really stop.
"Hello, earth to Katniss" Johanna's voice makes me jump. I did not remember that she could walk without making any noise and was expecting to hear her footsteps coming down the stairs. I hadn't noticed that she was already standing midway into the living room. "I'm still hungry. C'mon, lets go" she says with an annoyed look on her face.
I decide that it's wiser not to fight her, so, gathering all the energy that I have left, I get up and follow her silently into the kitchen. I watch as she searches the cabinet for two bowls, fills them up with the soup, that was still warm enough, and gets two spoons from the closest drawer. Considering how familiar she seems to be with everything, I'm guessing the houses of the Victor's Village in district 7 must be organized the same way as they are in 12. We walk to the table, sitting face to face and she puts my bowl in front of me. I actually do feel a little hungry, so we both start to eat in silence, until a meow coming from under the table gets our attention.
"No way!" Johanna says "Buttercup?" she picks him up from the floor and settles him on her lap where he lays and purrs softly. Turns out Johanna really likes cats and the two of them developed some sort of friendship during our time in 13. They seemed to enjoy each other's company very much. "How'd you even get here, boy?" she asks, taking her eyes off of him and placing them on me, expecting an answer.
"He walked." I don't like where this conversation is going. "Finish eating, your soup is getting cold."
"Huh? What do you mean? Wait–" she looks at me disbelievingly "He walked from 13?"
"Yeah." I focus on my food, avoiding her eye contact.
"But how?" she insists, shock all over her face.
"He was looking for her, ok?" my voice cracks slightly and I hit the table with my fist, still holding the spoon. "He walked all the way from fucking 13, got hurt and almost died, hoping he was going to find her here!" I know I'm losing control of how loud I'm speaking but there's nothing I can do about it. "Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted to hear?" I know somewhere in my mind that I'm not being fair to Johanna. She was just asking a question and there was no way she could have known this would affect me so much, but I can't bring myself to care right now.
She looks at me with a worried expression and that's when I notice the tears running down my face. Without saying a word, she takes Buttercup off her lap, gets up, comes to my side and opens her arms for me to hug her, giving me the chance to deny it. I hesitate for only a second, welcoming her embrace and burying my face on her shoulder, while I sob uncontrollably. She runs a hand up and down my back, until I calm down enough for my body to stop shaking.
"It does get easier, you know? I promise." Johanna whispers, placing a hand on my chin and making me look up "Speaking from experience."
"How?" I speak tentatively, hoping that she's going to understand me "how do you deal with that?"
"Well," she sighs "first you've got to let it all out. You want to cry? Do it. You're mad and want to go around destroying everything you see in front of you? You probably shouldn't, but that's what I did, so I won't be the one to stop you," we both smile a little at this "This feeling doesn't really go away, but you learn how to live with it."
"Thanks" I say weakly and stop to analyze her while I dry my tears. This girl who had her entire family taken away from her and still kept fighting. I don't know if I have this in me. She must have read my mind, because the next thing she says is:
"You just cannot spend the rest of your life sitting on a couch, Katniss." I roll my eyes at her, but she keeps talking. "I mean it! And believe me, I know how tempting it feels. But next thing we know, you're a vegetable and I'm not going to change your diapers or whatever."
I nod. Thinking about my mother and the way she used to sit in a chair and do nothing after my dad died, the reality of the life I've been living suddenly hits me. I don't judge her so much anymore, I can understand her a lot better now that I find myself in the same position she used to be. But I also don't want to do this anymore.
She starts to clean up the kitchen and I'm not in the mood to me polite, so I watch as she puts the rest of the soup in the fridge, takes both of our bowls and spoons and organizes them neatly into the sink. She doesn't wash anything. I worry, realizing that all the progress she had made with me in 13 was lost, and now she can't even get her hands wet anymore. I decide that I need to be well so I can help Johanna. With this last thought in mind, I tell her: "Ok, you're right. I'll try."
After all the emotional charge I experienced today, I'm exhausted, so I suggest that we go to my room to try and get some sleep. She agrees and we move upstairs. I feel my stomach sink when I see the room right across from mine, the beautiful blue patterns that she loved so much, decorating the white door that remains always closed. "Don't you ever get in there" I warn Johanna, pointing at the door and she just nods. I don't have to explain this to her any further, she gets it.
When the door to my room is open I walk straight to the left side of the bed, climbing on top of it and letting myself lay comfortably under the covers. Johanna looks at me from the doorway "So," she says unsure "no shower first?"
"No" I answer tiredly and the tension leaving her body is visible. "We'll deal with that tomorrow." Closing the door behind her, she proceeds to make her way to the bed and gets under the covers on the right side. It feels weird after all this time and we don't dare to face, let alone, touch each other. As I feel myself drifting off, I say: "Johanna?"
"Huh?" she lets me know that she's listening.
"It's nice to have you here" I let out.
"Yeah, yeah, I know you missed me" I can feel the smile on her voice. "Now go to sleep, brainless."
Hey :) If anyone is actually reading this, I hope you enjoyed! Review and let me know what you liked and what you think that could be better, it's really important to me! (but please keep in mind that english is not my first language, this is my first ever fic and i'm also very sensitive lol)