AN; I technically updated this on Sunday depending on where you live, but my computer wouldn't cooperate so I'm sorry. This chapter is dedicated to my friend Taylor who helped me with this chapter when I had writers block.
review responses:
Nikkette~Thank you for being the only person who I can always count on a review from, your review made my day. I had to read it four or five times just to make sure I was reading it right. Please keep reading and I really hope you like this chapter.
the nightmares were fresh and sleep was still prominent in my eyes, as I took my seat beside Caesar. The dress I had on made me feel like I was being choked, it was all white with a collar that covered my neck and it stuck to my body like another layer of skin. We were in the sitting room in our level of the training center, and there was no live audience, which was reasuring.
"So, how are you doing?" Caesar asked.
"I'm fine." I said.
"You'll do great." He assured me, and then turned to face the camera. Someone gave him a cue and he began, telling a few jokes before introducing me.
"How are you Katniss." He asked for the second time today.
"Good." I said with a smile.
"So," He began " I don't mean to upset you, but everyone wants to know, how are you coping with losing Peeta?"
"Well, I definitely miss him," I explained, pretending to wipe a tear from my eye. "But that's what happens, I've moved on and I hope the rest of Panem can too."
"Well said." Was his only response.
The rest of the interview was spent mostly on questions about Peeta and I. I did my best to answer believably, and from Haymitch's relieved expression as we were signing off, I achieved my goal. Caesar stood and a round of congratulatory hugs started. Unsure of what to do with myself I awkwardly stood in front of my chair, until I saw Haymitch making his way toward me.
"Good job." He brought his hand up and patted my arm awkwardly.
"Thanks." I smiled at him, as he pulled me into a hug.
"Now that's more like it." I said into his shoulder.
"Well, I wasn't sure If you wanted to hug me."
"Why would you say that?" I asked.
"You looked mad," He explained. "And I didn't want to make it worse."
"Oh." Was all I said. I had to admit that I was a little mad, I was just sick of talking about Peeta. I watched as he pulled away and fished something out of his pocket.
"This is yours," He placed the object in my hands, and I realized it was the mockingjay pen that Madge had given me. "We're leaving in a few minutes and I didn't want you to forget it."
"Thank you." I said, wrapping my arms around his neck in another hug.
"Anytime." He whispered in my ear.
The train ride would only be a day, but I didn't want to go back, district twelve wouldn't be the same. I'd be haunted by the memories of the games, and no one would understand. Well no one except Haymitch, but he wouldn't be much help.
"Katniss" Effie's shrill voice interrupted my train of thought. "You need to eat."
"I'm not that hungry." I mumbled.
"You don't know what you're missing." She said.
"I think I'm just gonna go to bed," I told her and Haymitch. "I don't feel the best, and besides I have a big day tomorrow." We all exchanged goodnights and I made my way to my room.
I quickly got in the shower, and then slipped on a pair of pajamas. I laid in bed waiting for sleep to come, but I knew it wouldn't. I didn't want the nightmares that came with unconscious. But finally I let myself close my eyes.
I was at the cornucopia, standing beside the lake. A figure moved into my view.
Peeta.
He had a smirk on his face and he was slowly walking toward me.
"Katniss, how are you holding up?" He asked sarcastically. "How are you doing?"
I couldn't speak. I was frozen in place.
"You're a piece Katniss, just a pawn in my games." Peeta wasn't Peeta anymore, it was president Snow who was standing in front of me now. Blood covered his usually clean hands.
"A pawn."
"A pawn."
"A pawn."
I woke up mid-scream, panting and sweat covered.
"It's just a dream, it's just a dream." I had to mumble to myself. I walked out of my room and into the sitting room, I sat down in the chair in the corner.
"What are you doing up." I jumped, not expecting to see Haymitch walking toward me. Unsurprisingly he had a half empty bottle of liquor in his hand.
"Why do you think I'm up?" I snapped at him.
"Well I'm guessing you were having a nightmare, so you came out here for no apparent reason hoping that the dream could be forgotten," I rolled my eyes at him. "It won't get better."
"You're great at pep talks." I told him.
"I'm not trying to make you feel better, I'm trying to give you advise. You need a sedative." He explained.
"What's a sedative?" I ask.
"Something that helps you sleep."
"Well, what's yours?" In response he held up the bottle. "Does it help?"
"Almost as much as it hurts." He laughed deeply.
"Can I have some?" I stuck my hand out in front of me.
"I don't know if that's the best idea." He told me.
"I'll be fine." I stood up and took the bottle from his hand. I tipped it up and let the warm liquid slid down my throat. It burned like fire and I almost coughed it back up.
"Told you." He mumbled under his breath, but he grabbed another bottle off of the table in the dinning room.
"So what was the dream about?" He asked, as we both sat back down. I debated weather or not to tell him, but then I remembered that the Capitol probably had the train bugged and I decided against it.
"I'd rather not talk about." I said hoping to get the point across. He seemed to understand, changing the subject immediately.
"Are you glad to be going home." He asked another question.
"Not really," I answered. "Let's just not, small talk isn't really our forte."
We drank in silence, and I could feel myself getting drunker and drunker with every sip.
"This was fun." I said in a slurred voice, as I attempted to stand.
"Sweetheart, you're drunk," Haymitch pointed out the obvious. "You need to sit down before you hurt yourself."
"I'm fine." I lied. I tried to walk but ended up stumbling which made me giggle. Haymitch stood and walked toward me with caution.
"Obviously," he mumbled. "Come on, I'll help you get back to your room."
"I don't need your help," I told him. "Why aren't you drunk? You drank more than me."
"I've also been drinking a little bit longer than you have, my body has built up a resistance to the stuff." He explained, as he grabbed my arm to steady me.
"I don't feel very good." I told him. I could feel the bial rising up my throat and before Haymitch could say anything he had a shirt full of puke.
"I was gonna say don't throw up on me, but it's to late for that I guess."
"I'm sorry." I mumbled as he unbottoned his shirt revealing a puke free T-shirt underneath.
"It's okay sweetheart, it happens a lot." He told me. "Granted it's usually my own puke but it's okay."
"I'm tired." I said hugging Haymitch.
"You're drunk," He replied. "Now go to bed, you're going to have a horrible hangover in the morning."
I obeyed his orders, walking (if you could even call it that) to my room.
