AUTHOR'S NOTE

I wrote this as part of A candle for the Caribbean antology. It has been edited since, just a little. Hope you like it.

WARNINGS

Natural Disaster, Canonical Character death, Suicide

DISCLAIMER

I do not own THG characters nor Collateral Beauty.

CHAPTER 1 – DEATH

Dear Death,

You are just the intermediary, you hold a middle management position with no real power. Come back for me, I will be waiting. You will forever regret taking her instead of me.

Katniss

We were not even supposed to be here. My mother had participated on a radio station contest and she won the all-included round trip for the whole family. As a once in a lifetime opportunity, my parents decided to take it, so we made our bags and flown to the exotic beaches that they promised us.

What nobody took into account was that this was not a good time of the year to travel to this part of the world. The storm happened so suddenly that we were not able to reach our rooms. And we found ourselves trapped in a playroom of the resort we were staying at with several other families that were on vacation as well.

Being the scary children that we were, the adults spent a lot of their time trying to assure us youngsters that the storm will all end soon and that there was nothing to worry about.

To pass the time and stop worrying about what was happening outside, I started to sing a song that was stuck in my head while trying to keep reading the book I had taken with me to the pool.

"Your singing is really pretty." A boy around my age with ashen hair and the bluest eyes I have ever seen was now sitting next to me. I figured he was the one that had talked to me.

"Hmmm, thanks. But my father is the one that has the singing voice." I replied a little bit uncomfortable about the praise he just gave me.

"I find that hard to believe. If that is the case your father should be a star, right up there with Freddy and Amy."

"Aren't they both death." I asked annoyed.

"Well, yes…" He said and blushed. "But I could not find better examples to make my point."

"There is Adele or Josh, and they are both very much alive." I retorted.

"Sorry you are right, please accepted my apologies…" He extended his hand and paused as if waiting for me to say something. I realized he was fishing for my name.

"Katniss Everdeen. And you are apologized." I answered while reciprocating his handshake.

"Thanks Katniss. I am Peeta Mellark. Nice to meet you!" After that we kept talking about nothing in particular.

And I blame that for what happened next.

It was as sudden as the storm. My sister Primrose left her seat beside my parents and started chasing an ugly cat that walked by the window. She left the safety of the playroom and nobody was aware of it for a few minutes. When her disappearance was noticed by my mother, my father ran out in her search, I along with him. It was not long before we found her and, as we were walking back, an electric post was hit by lighting, falling right into us. I was pushed and landed on a bush that softened my fall. My savior was right in front of me, his left leg caught under the post, and some distance to his right the figures of my sister and father.

That day I lost my family and Peeta lost a leg. I though he deserved it.

And the day I had to bury my father and sister I wrote three letters, addressed to those responsible of my tragedy; they had to be make accountable for what they did.

KPKPKPKPKPKP

I am sitting at a bench near her grave. It has been five years since that fateful day. My mother and I, we have been living with uncle Haymitch, her brother, ever since. We had to move out from our house because my mother was not able to function properly. And today, instead of thinking of prom and college dorms and summer jobs as any normal teenager my age should do; I am here, in the cemetery burying another body.

"I can take the decisions by myself just fine, thank you very much." A voice to my left says.

I turn to see a white, old woman seated by my side. I am really startled as I not even heard her come.

"What?" I cannot understand her statement. Is she even talking to me?

"That thing about middle management and not having any real power none-sense. Don't you remember?" She then takes a note from her purse and I recognized what she is carrying. Is the first letter I wrote, it was addressed to Death.

"So you are here to take me now?"

"No, I am not looking forward to an eternity with you just yet. But I am here to give you some advice."

"Are you sure you are not here to try and convince me that she is now in a better place, that she is the most beautiful angel in heaven and that I should be happy for that?" I don't even know if I am talking about my mother, or about... her.

"Whatever suits you, really. It is your choice to think what its best to help you grieve. But no, I am here to tell you that Death is also freedom."

I understand then why she did it, my mother. She was a prisoner in her own guilt, and the one I inflicted over the years as well, and she could no longer go on living on the jail that was her mind. My mother took her own life so she could be free from all that.

"So, you are suggesting I take the same path as her?" Could I?

"No, you don't need that kind of freedom, you have something else in your side. I came here to remind you as well of that gift, so don't waste it."

"What? A gift?" I say not understanding what she means.

"You have Time." A voice echoes in my head, as I am again alone in the bench.