Hello again! I'm glad to see some of you are interested in this story. I was nervous about posting this story because who wants to read something about mental health? I'm glad you guys care because our mental health is just as important as physical. And no, I'm not an expert and this story is mostly for fun, but take care of your mental health! Don't just care about it when you have a problem, address it everyday. And if you ever have a problem please talk to someone, even if it's a small one. None of us knew my friend was having problems until it was too late. So talking helps, it reaches out and allows people to help you. Also, how do you folks feel about the prequel coming out? I'm personally kind of skeptical but also excited. let me know!
Katniss POV
Before I even know whats going on I grabbed my dad's hunting jacket, locked the apartment door and ran down the stairs, banging into walls and rails. People shouted at me, but I didn't give a damn what they thought. I knew there was only one hospital in Panem and my head was already forming a route when I run head-on into Haymitch. Haymitch is the drunkest person in this state, heck maybe even in this world, but I have respect for him, or least an understanding. He had lost his son in the same mine explosion that killed my father, and shortly after his wife. Nevertheless, that didn't make me wanna punch him for blocking my way.
"whoa whoa whoa sweetheart, the cops after you?" He asks his voice dripping with sarcasm. Who was this man to block me? I try to get around him but he wouldn't budge. Haymitch used to be super athletic and won the wrestling cup but after the accident alcohol had taken a toll on his body. Yet I still couldn't get past him.
"Move Haymitch before I call the cops on you!" I yell at him. Haymitch studies me for a moment, and I see his eyes flash with something that I can quite identify. I'm about to punch him where it hurts when he steps aside. I sprint, just a bit too early as Haymitch had yet to move his right foot and I crash, definitely bruising my elbows.
"Slow down sweetheart. And remember to take care of yourself too." Haymitch tells me. I groan, rubbing my sore behind and start running again.
"Go to hell Haymitch, and don't call me sweetheart," I yell behind my shoulder. I turn the corner just in time to hear Haymitch mutter "I'm already there" to himself.
The hospital is 10 minutes away. The place is huge and the parking lot was full despite the time. I park my Toyota a block away and curse under my breath as I sprint to the door and kick it open. Sterile and cleaner fumes assault my nostrils and bright fake lights. I wrinkle my brows, I never liked hospitals before, and now, I loathe them.
"Good evening ma'am, how may I help you?" I whip around realizing in my rage, I missed the reception. There's a woman sitting at the desk smiling at me. I know it's fake, she looks like she rather be anywhere but here.
"My name is Katniss Everdeen and I'm here to-" I start but the women cuts me off.
"Ah yes, we've been expecting you. down the hall to the left in room 504." She tells me. She no longer smiles and looks sorry.
"Thank you, ma'am," I tell her politely and walk down the hall walking, but as soon as I'm out of sight I run. I turn the corner to find room 504. Multiple doctors stand outside in their blue uniforms and masks. Judging by how many there are outside and probably and inside tell me it's not good. I clear my throat
"Umm, I'm Katniss Everdeen." They turn around and stare at me until one of them breaks the silence.
"Ahh yes, Miss Everdeen, how are you doing?" They ask nervously. This annoys me beyond belief. My sister might be dead and they have time to ask me how am I doing?
"Cut the small talk, how is my sister?" I snap at them. They look at each other, and my heart is beating fast, not wanting to know the answer, yet desperately need to know.
"Unfortunately, Primrose Everdeen... Didn't make it, but Mister Hawthorne is in stable condition with only a concussion and broken ribs." They tell me. But I don't care, I feel my heart break into a thousand pieces, falling... falling... falling. Primrose Everdeen, the sweetest most innocent girl imaginable, gone. My sister who never hurt a fly killed. What did she do to deserve that? I croak, not able to form words, my eyes watering, threatening to spill. no, you must not cry, not here, not now. I have to stay strong. But it's so hard, oh so hard.