At this point, you must know that I'm not really good with deadlines, so I'll refrain from apologizing about this chapter which is a week late despite all my best efforts. I planned on it being longer, but I'm struggling with the next part, so I split it and decided to post this today.
Shout out to Sarsheps for getting me to 50 reviews! Thank you all for the encouragement, I really appreciate it.
Katniss POV
I'm going through the motions of making dinner but I'm not really paying attention. I don't trust Haymitch with my kids. Well, I have trusted him before, but this is different. This is important. This is the story of my life, a part that I'm not particularly fond or proud of. I don't want my kids to get the wrong impression. And who was that boy? Lysimachia said he was Gale's son. Gale had a son. The thought makes me uncomfortable for some reason.
Peeta interrupts my train of thought: "Katniss, I think that's done." He gestures to the bread I was toasting. Well, burning more like.
"You know I'm no good at this Peeta. I told you that you should do it." I snap.
"You just watch the heat warm the bread, then take it out and put it on a plate. It's not that hard Katniss." He explains through a strained voice, containing his frustration.
"I know how to do it Peeta!" I retort, imitating is patronizing use of my name. "You don't have to watch over me, OK?"
"Well, fine, do it yourself. I don't care. I'm gonna go check on the kids."
After he has left the kitchen and I have grudgingly plopped the burnt bread on the plate I hear running footsteps. I look up quickly to see who it is. Lysimachia runs through the kitchen and glances questioningly at me. Then her gaze rests on me accusingly and she runs to the stairs, crying. The numbness of a few hours is gone now, replaced with an insurmountable ache. The pain feels good in a way, a reminder that I'm alive again. But now the pain isn't because of the memories that have been dragged up after so many years. It's because my daughter is mad at me, and I don't think there is any greater pain. "Lysimachia!": I call after her, even though I know she won't come back to me. I'm furious with myself for trusting Haymitch and with Mom for persuading me to. I slam the plate down on the counter and march across the kitchen.
On my way to the library, the boy runs towards me. I look down at his hands, avoiding his face. His index finger has a slight callus forming on the side. I wonder what caused that? Then I notice that his hands are clasped nervously and this boy has asked me a question. "Uh, ? I'm sorry, I don't know your last name. Where did Lysimachia go?" I gesture vaguely towards the stairs while examining his hands. The hands that look so familiar. I glance at his retreating back. His tall figure makes the numbness begin to tingle at the tips of my fingers, slowly working it's way to my heart.
I try to focus my thoughts, to keep myself here for Lysimachia and Gale and Haymitch. Haymitch! I remember now why I threw the plate down and stalk down the hall to the library. I am going to get him for hurting my daughter.
Lysimachia's POV
The screams ring in my head. The faces flash before my eyes. The bright images from the lighted screen taunt me. They won't let me forget what I saw or heard. I'm breathing heavily now, and I try to calm my racing heart, but I only cry harder.
I plop down on my bed, ignoring the pile of folded laundry that was piled on it and has now fallen to the floor. I just cry. I cry for the pretty girl and the small boy. I cry for the look in his eyes. I never thought I would see anyone in such desperation. I cry for my lost confidant, I never thought that my Dad would hurt me this badly.
He always warned be about getting too serious about boys, but this time it's not a thoughtless boyfriend who hurt me, it's my Dad. I can never get him or my Mom back again. I really thought that Mom loved me. I really thought she cared about us, but how could she do that? I wonder what else they do. When they go out together, is that really a chance for them to go knock off a few people? You don't just stop doing that. Once a killer, always a killer. I wonder if they were planning on killing Lich and I sometime when we didn't expect it.
I'm face down on my bed when I hear a knock at my door. I jolt up into a sitting position while frantically wiping at my flushed face and puffy eyes. I struggle to clear my throat and manage to calm my heaving chest long enough to muster a 'yes?'.
"It's me."
"Come in." I consent cautiously, unsure of who bothered to come and find me. It's not my Mom or Dad, I'd know their voices. Grandpa wouldn't bother knocking and the voice isn't high enough to be Nana.
The door opens on a boy who, despite my distress, is the very person I was half-hoping would be behind that door. I smile through my tears and struggle in vain to swallow the lump in my throat.
This is not a great way to impress a guy: crying your eyes out face down on the bed. I know I should be worried about my parents, I mean any other girl would be concerned if they found out that their parents were murderers, but not me. I'm sitting here worrying about a boy.
I look up at him, waiting for him to nod and go report back to whoever sent him that I'm fine. But he walks across the room and looks me in the eye.
"They didn't mean it you know." His calm voice startles me.
"You don't know that." I shake my head vehemently at Corren to remind him that it's impossible for murdering someone, especially on documented TV, to be a mistake.
"It's the Hunger Games, a government-controlled event. You know they had to participate."
"But that doesn't change the fact that those two people are gone, and that's not counting all the others killed in the first few moments. You saw it, Corren, don't try to deny it. Dad meant to-, to kill that boy. You may not know him as well as I do, but he was determined to kill him, it was obvious from his face. And-, I just can't believe it." Corren slowly reaches out and firmly puts his hands on my shoulders.
"You're right, I don't know him. But I do know that my Dad lived through it and yours did too. He may have done some scary things but he still cares about you. It's OK. You'll be fine."
"No it's not OK! I am not fine! Just look at me!" I jump to my feet in defiance of his light treatment of this horrible situation.
"Yes, You will Lysimachia. Trust me, you'll be fine."
And that's when it happens again. I just stand there, frozen by his touch, and held by his gaze. I take a deep breath and step forward. "Ok" is all I get out before he is holding me close and I realize that maybe my world won't be so confusing after all.
Awwwww! I'm sorry, but I just love Corren. I'm having a lot of fun deciding what his character will be like. I'm trying not to work off of Gale too much, but there will be some character similarities between them.
For the next chapter, I'm attempting a part from Haymitch's POV. I don't know how long it will be but I'm trying it. And in the next chapter they will receive information about Annie. She's coming! Don't worry!
