Chapter 13: Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story

"I know you don't believe me, but I'll make you see that nothing is your fault," she proclaims.

Peeta POV:

We say goodbye quickly as we leave the bakery. I don't think Katniss and I will be back anytime soon. The town center is busy now. I notice a few people staring at us as we walk. It's a little disconcerting to be visually followed in Twelve. Katniss doesn't seem to notice though.

I turn towards the path that leads to Victors Village, but Katniss stops me in my tracks. "I want to show you something," she whispers. I nod and follow her. She leads me towards the Seam. We walk for awhile before we stop at an abandoned house. I recognize it as Katniss's old home.

Katniss leads me inside. The house is in a dismal condition. Paint is peeling off the wall and a lot of the floorboards are cracked. It is barely a home, more like a shack. Katniss lived here? What is even more heartbreaking is that I know that Katniss lived in a better condition than some of the other families here in the Seam. I always knew that being a merchant was a lot better than being in the Seam, but this is the first time I've realized that I've lived in relative luxury my whole life.

"Why did you bring me here?" I question.

Katniss POV:

I ignore Peeta's question and go sit on the floor near the window. Peeta sits beside me. I look into his deep blue eyes and begin my story.

"My childhood was very different from yours. I always knew my parents loved me. We used to spend hours laughing and playing. This house may not be much, but to me it was the best house. I was the luckiest girl in the world and my family was the best family. Growing up my father was my hero. He used to take me to the woods and show me all the marvellous things that were beyond the fence. Once, he even took me and Prim swimming in this lake just beyond the fence. Back then my mother was a wonderful part of my world. She used to braid my hair everyday before school, and my dad would lift me up in his arms and spin me around. At dinnertime we would all sing together; my mom was always horrible. She can't sing at all. Before bed she would tell me and Prim stories about fairies and monsters. They were amazing. We were very happy together.

I remember the day that changed my life like it was yesterday. It's hard to forget the worst day of your life. I was eleven years old, and Prim would turn seven in three weeks. It started out like any other day; my father dropped Prim and I off at school. I remember waving goodbye. He told us he'd come pick us up, but that afternoon me and Prim waited for hours but no one came to pick us up. I remember getting so mad that my father broke his promise, he had never done that before. Prim was getting tired, so I decided to carry her home myself. The whole way back I planned to yell at him for being irresponsible. I planned that I wouldn't talk to him for at least a week until he apologized and brought me the pretty flowers that I liked from the forest. But when I got home, the house was quiet. It was so strange; our home was usually bustling with life.

When we came inside there were two men talking to my mother. My mother's face was twisted in grief. I understood what they were saying. He was gone. They couldn't find anything for us to bury. They talked for some time, explaining everything to my mother, and then they left. The house was cold, and my mother sat down. Her face was blank.

The rest of the day passed in an eerie silence. I don't think Prim understood what had happened. She kept asking me when our father would come home. At around dinnertime Prim and I got hungry, we tried to tell my mother, but she was gone, her body was here but inside she was empty. When Prim started crying, I remember I went to the kitchen and fed her something I found there.

The next few months were terrible. My mom never moved. She just sat in silence, sometimes she would cry and scream, but most of the time it was just vacancy. I did my best to take care of Prim, but we had no money, no food, and everyday we were getting closer and closer to death. My mother was useless.

Then one day, things changed again. Helpless and hopeless, I sat under a tree in the pouring rain, and I knew that I would die there, and they would find my body in the morning. Prim was home alone with my depressed mother and in a few days, she would also meet the same fate as me. But that is not what happened, a boy from school, someone I barely knew did me a great kindness. He threw two partially burned loaves of bread my way. It may not seem like much, but it was enough to keep me going.

The next day, I wanted to thank the boy. He was surrounded by people, and I lacked courage. So, I stood there, staring at the grass, that's when a dandelion caught my eye. I suddenly began to remember everything my father had told me about edible plants and hunting. I knew then that I would not starve again. Me and Prim spent three hours picking dandelions and made a stew with it that night. The next day after school, I went hunting. I knew where my father hid his bow and arrow. It took a long time to get good, but I did, I got really good."

I turn to Peeta. He has a tear sliding down his face. He leans over and brushes my cheeks, and I realize that I have tears on my face too. We lean into each other. I put my head against his shoulder, and he wraps his arms around mine. We sit in the silence, listening to each other's breathing. "Thank you for telling me that," Peeta whispers.

I turn my head, the movement is awkward, but I want to meet his gaze. "I told you that story for a reason," I say. Peeta looks at me questioningly. "Was it my fault that my mother was so heartbroken she couldn't take care of me and Prim?" I ask.

"What? No, of course not," Peeta bristles.

"Exactly," I say, "It isn't my fault, just like your mother's broken heart is not your fault. Peeta, whatever has happened between your mother and father has nothing to do with you, her disappointments are not your fault."

Peeta nods and another tear escapes his left eye. Needing to comfort him, I lean over and kiss him right under his eye on top of the teardrop.