Flash. "Primrose Everdeen!" My sister has been reaped.
Flash. I'm on stage after the Quarter Quell interviews holding hands with the other tributes. Most of these people will be dead tomorrow.
Flash. Peeta shows me his prosthetic leg. It's my fault, because I used the tourniquet. I made him not whole.
Flash. The people of District 11 put three fingers on their lips and then hold them to the sky. It means thanks. It means admiration. It means goodbye to someone you love.
Flash. Peeta volunteers to take Haymitch's place at the Reaping. I can feel my heart break in my chest.
Flash. Snow smiles at me, and I can feel part of me wither inside.
My legs carry me to the woods. I leap what remains of the fence and sprint into the forest until my muscles begin to give out. I take to the closest tree and climb. The boughs begin to grow more supple the higher I climb, and finally I come to a stop. I spin so my back is against the trunk and weep silently into my knees. I can't stop the flashes. When I close my eyes, I see the light of the bulb and it takes me back to another picture, another horror, another intimate moment exposed. I am hyperventilating, partly from running and partly from fear, but I cannot breathe and I gasp in between involuntary sobs. I cannot do this. I cannot do this.
I shift to anger. I vacillate between emotions for hours. I remember begrudging my mother for spending weeks after my father's death practically catatonic, but I inherited her predisposition for mental retreat. I can spend a day in a closet. I'll likely spend all day in this tree. I lose time.
When I hear my name being shouted from a distance, I don't react. I climb higher, too precariously for rational thought, and wrap my body around the trunk. I close my eyes. I will myself to be absorbed into this tree. It's starting to get cold, but I don't feel it. My fingers grow numb, and I hope the rest of me does too. I want to be numb. I hear voices again, familiar and foreign at the same time. I'm not here.
"Come on, kid, we'll come back out in the morning," Haymitch says.
"I'm not leaving here without her!" Peeta snaps back. His voice is desperate and worn. I should feel bad, but I can't feel anything but the wind whispering through the tops of the trees.
"I checked the cabin by the lake," Gale says as he approaches the group. "She's not there."
Peeta lets out a sigh of exacerbation. He is struggling to maintain his composure, but the uncertainty is corroding his strength. Something in me stirs, but it's fleeting and I focus on the feeling of the bark on my cheek.
"She will be okay out here. She knows these woods," Gale says, patting his shoulder. Peeta shrugs him off.
"She wasn't in a good frame of mind, Gale," he says back. I look up and see the moon is beaming down on us. The woods appear enchanted, almost. The moon casts crooked shadows from the trees. Everything below becomes blurry. I'm not really listening anymore, though I can hear their muffled voices volley back and forth. I don't realize Johanna is climbing until I feel the tree sway beneath me. When she reaches me, I'm not here, not really.
"I got you, stupid," she whispers to me. She touches my cheek and I come tumbling back to reality. A watershed bursts, and I am sobbing into her arms. I hear the voices below silence, and when I peer down I see all of them straining to look up. We are too high to see, but with the glow pouring down I can make out Peeta's blonde curls, iridescent in the moonlight's radiance. It's only then that they realize Johanna had ducked away. She's the only one that could have reached me anyway. She presses her forehead into mine and we stay here for a while. "You are freezing," she whispers, wraps her coat around me. She takes my hands in hers and breathes warm air onto them. She rubs her hands over mine. She's home up here, too. "I know this is your safe place, but it's time to come down." I nod slowly.
Johanna climbs down first, deft in her route. She knows trees - how the grow, how they move, where they are strong and where they give. She doesn't even really need to look. I climb behind her, hang from the bottom branch and drop to the ground. Immediately Peeta has wrapped his arms around me.
"She's so cold," he says. He's not addressing me, or anyone in particular. He takes his jacket off too, and wraps it over Johanna's. He holds me tight and pulls my head into his chest. I just stand there. I'm not crying. I just am. I feel Peeta's warmth and I relax into it. "You want to go home?" he asks me quietly. I nod my head yes. He wraps an arm around my waist and we walk. Johanna nabs my other side and we head out of the woods. Gale takes the lead and Haymitch trails behind. I'm so tired.
"I don't think you should go home, kid," Haymitch says from the rear. "Effie said she saw reporters all over Victor's Village."
"They could stay at Katniss's old place," Johanna suggests.
"No," I say quietly. It's the only thing I say to them all night.
"They can stay at my old house. In the Seam. It's a mess, but the chimney is still standing so they should be fine until we figure out something different tomorrow," Gale suggests. The group nods and we make our way out of the woods. It takes almost two hours walking. I hadn't realized I'd run so far. I still feel a bit like I'm in a trance, but the warmer I get the more alive I feel. The more I hurt. They drop us off, and Gale promises to return with some supplies.
I walk into the old Hawthorne house. It feels strange. I've spent years of my life here, between Hazel's dinners, waiting for Gale, playing with Posy... but it doesn't feel like the same place. It feels cold, and dead, and full of ghosts, just like everything else in District 12. My mind drifts to this morning, and how happy everything was, and I wonder how this can even be the same day. How I can even be the same flirty, buoyant girl that I was.
But I know what happened. My sense of security shattered when I saw that flash. I got careless and let my guard down. Every wall I'd let fall threw itself back up, reinforced with steel and fear.
The second floor is not habitable, so Peeta makes camp on the floor of the kitchen. Gale knocks a few minutes later. He's brought supplies - clothes to sleep in, water, some light food, blankets. I hear them murmuring together. They aren't being secretive, I just can't focus enough to make out individual words. I feel Gale's hand on my shoulder, and he's gone. Peeta wraps me in blankets and makes me drink water. I lay down in front of the fire. He's keeping his distance physically. He knows I'm processing the day, and I can tell it's killing him not touch me, but he knows it's what I need. I love that he knows that about me.
Love. I lift my blanket and invite Peeta in. He's hesitant, and I feel like we are reliving Tigris's basement. He's afraid he'll hurt me if he pushes too hard. I feel like our lives are intertwined in a continual cycle of loops - arenas, trains, beaches, blankets, fire. Every part spinning and repeating and cycling back through. There is one constant. Peeta. By my side through it all.
He joins me under the blankets and I pull his body into mine. I tangle our legs and press my chest against his. I knot my fingers in his hair and I feel his hands mirror mine. He ducks his head into my shoulder and I feel him exhale a shaky breath. "I lost you," he breathes into me.
I squeeze my arms tighter around him. I'm here now. I'm grounded in the peaceful, quiet nights that only Peeta brings. He pulls me in closer, so I can feel his heart pounding against my chest. His breathing still quakes on its way in, and I can tell he's fighting back a sob. I've never been good with words, not like him.
I pull my head back until our mouths are barely apart. I place a delicate kiss on his lips. His eyes are full of doubt, and his face looks like he has to ask a question he doesn't want to know the answer. I meet his eyes dead on. "You're stuck with me, Mellark."
I finally feel him breathe.