Chapter One:
Prim's P.O.V:
"Deep in the meadow, under the willow
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow
Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes
And when they open, the sun will rise.
Here it's safe, and here it's warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you.
Deep in the meadow, hidden far away
A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray
Forget your woes and let your troubles lay
And when it's morning, they'll wash away.
Here it's safe, and here it's warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you."
At first, I was in the meadow. Primroses ironically surrounded me, along with daises and other magnificent, mesmerizing flowers. All different light colors, that seemed to shimmer with the setting sun. The bright scarlet sky was spread across the sky, like a painting. I leaned against the tree as her singing voice rang out, echoing almost everywhere. A small smile etched across my face, it had been a while since I had heard that. Heard her sing. Still smiling, I glanced at the rays of orange sunlight, shining down. Despite the things that were happening, the setting sun had a calming effect on me and soothed my sanity that had threatened to escape me, with every day. With every passing moment.
"Deep in the meadow, under the willow-" I whirled around hearing her voice behind me, my braids hitting the side of my cheeks gently. Yes, I still whore my braids. They presented a comforting thought, as if she was still here. As if I was still a child. But now, she was here. As I turned I saw her slip behind a tree, catching sight of her long flowing brown hair. I missed her, depressingly with each day. I tried to call out to her, to tell her to slow down so we could talk, about anything, but my voice didn't seem to work as if it was choked by an invisible force.
"A bed of grass, a soft green pillow-" her voice was soothing, and clear like spreading honey. It always was the most beautiful voice I had ever heard, beside my father. Unlike them, I hadn't been blessed with such a unique singing voice. Tears threatened to spill over my lashes, as I began to try and keep up with her, my legs beginning to finally work.
"Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes." Her voice paused for a moment, as if waiting for retort from me. Didn't she know that I would never make decline her singing? Her magical voice? Then to my delight, her voice began again.
"And when they open the sun will rise." My eyes flickered to the side of the meadow, where I finally completely saw her. She was hole, not exploded into bits and pieces, like I had seen. Had that been a trick? Didn't everyone know that she despised the mere thought of such a thing called tricks? Her normal braided hair was loose and flowing. To my surprise, she was wearing a white old fashioned sun dress. Her seam grey eyes were flickering and shimmering, staring at me, as if to taunt me. A flash of anger hit me head-on. Why wouldn't she wait for me? Had I done something wrong? But deep down I knew that I had. I had been called as tribute, she volunteered for me. It was like I had personally sent a bomb towards her, even though the capitol had. I swallowed roughly feeling the lump in the back of my throat.
"Here it's safe, and here it's warm here the daisies guard you from every harm, here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true. Here is the place where I-" her voice cuts off, and she stares at me icily through her grey eyes as if she finally noticed I was there. An expression of hot anger is scrawled across her face. I stand there a few feet away from her, fear slowly spreading through me. If looks could kill, runs through my mind.
"It's your fault." She says, no longer singing. The birds abruptly stop chirping in the meadow and the flowers are slowly withering around me. The pinks and violets are turning to blacks and grays. Her voice is furious and jagged, as if it could cut through ice. I flinch at those words, knowing that what she stated is true.
"I'm sorry," I whimper my voice finally working, feeling completely naked and vulnerable. Her mouth opens, half ajar as if to say something.
The sun is finally setting, as darkness settles.
Then, the dream changes.
I'm no longer standing in the beautiful meadow, surrounded by flowers and sunlight. I'm in the woods. The woods where she perished.
"Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where they strung up a man they say murdered three.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where the dead man called out for his love to flee.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where I told you to run so we'd both be free.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."
I recognize the song that my father used to sing, in which my mother banned. But instead of her beautiful voice her singing is furious now, quick and clean cut, ragged and destroyed. And I'm standing there as rain comes down in heavy pouring in the darkness of the arena. Lightning clashes and thunder echoes and I began to run. My two braids soaking and slapping my dirty wet face. Lightning seems to clash right in front of me and I take off sprinting the other way.
"IT'S YOUR FAULT!" Her voice is high pitched now, shrieking as the trees shake furiously and some falls and crashes with a great, mighty thud in front of me. As I run, I'm trembling with fear. And guilt and sorrow. My knees buckle and I begin to sob crawling towards a tree and resting all of my weight on it. Her screams are getting louder, more insane, more animal like. I shut my eyes tightly, and know that my time has come.
Then it changes, once again.
I'm in some sort of underground place, where people are walking and living. There are strange tattoos on their arms with words and numbers, but I choose to ignore it thoroughly. I then see her, her brown hair in her normal braid, and the clothes that she usually wears. Her eyes are kind now, not like in the other two dreams where she's angry and mysterious. She walks towards me and I'm afraid that she'll be angry again, but I cannot move. More tears stream down my face and I stare at her in mercy. But this time her eyes are kind and she kneels down next to where I am sitting, huddled up against the wall, instead of against the rough bark of the tree, in the arena.
"Thirteen." The number forms on her lips, then speaks in a hushed whisper. I tilt my head in confusion and I'm about to start speaking when her finger presses to her lips. I don't understand.
"Wait!" I cry as she begins to walk towards the door, desperation pooling in my voice. "DON'T GO!" Sobs wrack my body, and she stares at me one more time with regret, then steps out the door and shuts it. Just as the darkness begins to swallow me whole, I hear her words one more time;
"Thirteen."
"KATNISS!" I hear an agonized scream, in the distance and to my shock, it's mine.
I sit up, quickly, sweat beading down my face. I'm trembling I realize, with absolute certainly. Trembling from fear, from confusion, but most importantly from the sadness. "Katniss," I whisper through the light of the room. The rays of sunlight are shining brightly through the window, almost as if, she's not dead. Almost as if everything's absolutely perfect. Almost as if nothing happened since I was twelve.
I feel my mother hug me tight, and I try very hard to fight the urge to push her away. That's what Katniss would've done. But you're not Katniss, a voice in the back of my head speaks up. Your Primrose Everdeen. The younger sister who sent your sister to her death. I shake my head into her shoulder, but don't cry. I just sit there and let her rock me, back and forth, to the beating of her heart. I'm tempted to just sit here all day, onto her shoulder.
"Happy birthday, Prim." She murmurs, pulling away for a moment, are blue eyes locking. Saying what cannot be said aloud. "Your almost done." She's holding my cheeks, in between her soft, delicate, breakable hands. I purse my lips and shake my head, my blonde hair stroking my ears and chin.
"Not quite. Still two years to go." Most people would be happy that it's there sixteenth birthday today, well, not me. I'm never happy.
Ever.
"I suppose, but just think: my little girl, all grown up." I give her a wincing, painful smile and dart away from her nurturing glance. The thing was; I didn't really feel grown up. I still felt like that little twelve year old girl, who was selected out of those glass bowls. The twelve year old girl who was selected to be in the Seventy Fourth annual Hunger Games. So Katniss died in the Quarter Quell, what difference did it make? It was still my fault.
Ever hear of the Butterfly Effect? How one outcome leads to another? It was said that the smallest of changes can affect something else. Negatively or positively. And even a diminutive decision can effect everything. Like dominos plowing down one another, from the slightest pressure of a dainty finger. A fish swinging its tail, causing water to ripple. Anything that someone or something does no matter how small or insignificant can have gargantuan consequences. You could call this the chain reaction or the ripple effect. But they call this theory the butterfly effect, stating that even the most gossamer flap of wings from a butterfly, the air displaced can cause a tornado across the entire globe. A small instinctive move, that could destroy land and kill people. Previously called the chaos effect, the butterfly effect basically says that the smallest movements, decisions and actions could affect something else in a dire consequence.
That's what had happened, I'm sure of it now. Katniss's Butterfly Effect started as soon as my slip was pulled. Her tragic fate was drawn the exact moment my slip was pulled. I shook my head, once more, trying to clear my thoughts.
"Did you have another nightmare?" Why even ask? She already knows that I do. Every single damn night. It's always the same recurring nightmare, over and over.
"Of course I did," I reply bitterly, climbing out of bed hastily. "Why do you even bother?" I didn't have to see my mother, to know the pain scrawled out across her features. Waves of guilt splash me, and I feel tears pricking in my eyes. I wasn't strong like her, Katniss. She knew how to deal with mom, the death of dad, everything. She knew how to deal and balance out life. I was just her little sister, who was always tiptoeing around in her shadows, trying to fill the space that she had left.
Key word: Trying.
I sighed and dug around in the dresser drawer, which was completely falling apart. It was worn and faded. Just like my life. I rummaged through the clothes, trying my best not to stare at Katniss's old ones. Mom had tried to get rid of everything, to move on, but I just couldn't bare to live without a few of her items.
"We should replace this soon," I said, trying to break the tension.
"We should." She responded, in a dead voice. I bit my lip down hard, ripping it gently, I wished I hadn't said what I had before.
"I'm going out."
"In your pajamas?" I blushed abruptly, stealing a glance down at my outfit. Glad that she had noticed, I grabbed some of my clothes and headed towards the bathroom, the wooden floor an icy cold. I shivered but kept walking anyway.
I began to change out of my pj's and into my hunting clothes.
"Is that seriously what your wearing?" I gasp, and help my t-shirt protectively over my breasts. I relaxed when I saw who it was at the window, but that didn't make me any less angry.
"Astrid!" I growl, pulling my shirt over my head. "Could you get any less annoying?"
She looked like she was thinking this through, which was good, less time for Astrid to talk. Astrid was a fourteen year old girl, who I had befriended through District Twelve's school. Despite being two years younger than me, we had become best friends. I still wondered if she drugged me before we began to talk, just to make a friend. We were complete opposites and Astrid had a way of making people not like you. It wasn't her fault really, she had a rare condition of Asperser's- where someone couldn't help but speak the entire truth, negatively or positively. She had dark brown skin, which was uncommon here in District Twelve. She had bouncy curls and dark hazelnut eyes, that would light up, whenever she would tease you. But most importantly she was the cousin of-
"No. I don't think that's humanely possible. By the way, you smell simply revolting. And who picked out your outfit? A rat?" My eyes narrowed, but widened when I saw the rat in the corner of the bathtub. I rolled my eyes as I pulled up my pants.
"Do you enjoy being a peeping tom?"
"How was I supposed to know you were changing?" Astrid protested, leaning up against the posts of the window. After tying my hair up into a quick ponytail (I didn't feel like doing my hair in front of Astrid. She would probably comment on every single thing wrong I did on it.) I grabbed the rodent by the tail, hurling out the window just missing Astrid's face.
Her nose scrunched up, in disgust as it whizzed past her. "Feel better now?"
I nodded, a look of amusement on my face. "Much."
"Well, happy sixteenth birthday." I give her a strained smile, and sit down on the edge of the bathtub, running a hand through my tangled hair. "Thanks. You didn't get me anything right?"
A scowl flickered across her dark face, but she nodded curtly. "Who doesn't want presents on their birthday? You're so negative all the time. Every time you walk into a room with flowers, I swear they wither. What are you a freak or something? I mean I know your sister exploded but there's no reason to be so cold hearted." She rambled on, and I had to grip the edges of the bathtub to keep from strangling her to death.
"Sorry, sorry. Anyways you know you're getting something from my cousin."
"I know, I know."
"You guys aren't getting together, are you? That would be really awkward for me, and he looks like a deranged pig (that comment was really wrong, he was, well, good looking. Not that I would ever tell him that.) mixed together with a jabber jay. If you two get married though, we'd be related. Huh, never thought of that! That would be so amazing right? We'd be uh... second cousins? Gosh I don't know. But still- we'd be related and I think that is so..." she continued to blab on and on, and I managed to block most of her words out of my mind.
"Astrid, remember what I said? You need to breath in between sentences." I reminded her, and she nodded excitedly.
Why exactly are we best friends? Not a clue. Like I said before, she talked way too much for me to keep up with, and not all of her words were exactly nice. Also, like I said before, we were exact opposites. She was bubbly, I was cold. She wore dresses, I wore pants.
She was happy, I wasn't.
Well I guess the saying does go opposites attract. But not in a romantic way, of course.
"-why don't you have a party? I'm sure I could get some booze from a peacekeeper-" My eyes widened and I cut her off. "Astrid! Your fourteen!"
"So? Live a little, Prim! Don't be such a party pooper." I looked down at the ripped apart floor boards, in slight embarrassment.
"I don't want to have a party."
"Oh come on, Prim! Please, pretty please?" Oh god, she was giving me bambi eyes. Her liquid brown eyes shimmered pleadingly, and her bottom lip curled out a little. Her hands came up in a begging formation, and I broke my gaze away from her.
"That's not going to work." I said, swallowing down the urge to say yes.
"PLEASE?" Her voice loosened and raised a little. "PRETTY PLEASE? With sugar on top? Well, I don't really like sugar, but you obviously do and I think that's really weird-" I tried to block out the rest of her words, and grabbed my game bag, which was hanging off the end of the worn out door.
Astrid shook her head, abandoning the pleading act. "Why don't you just get a job instead of hunting?" I don't respond. I didn't like killing innocent animals, and I could get a job.
But hunting helped me stay close to my sister.
My dead sister. My only one. Dead.
I blinked back tears, willing myself not to cry in front of Astrid. I look away, hoping to hide it. It works. I pretend to rummage around in my game bag, like I'm looking for something. Once I get a grip, I turn back.
"Can I come?"
The question is innocent and kind, not at all insulting. But, I couldn't say yes. The place where I hunted, belonged to her and me. Our special place, a place where she still seemed alive and living. A place where I wasn't frantically trying to fill the space that she filled in this district. A place that made everything seem like it was okay. A place where I could pretend that everything was.
Pretending makes things easier.
"No, Astrid." I respond gently, trying not to be too rude. Her face looked crestfallen at my answer, still balancing herself on the window frame. Her energetic expression wavered.
"Why not?"
I sighed and took a couple steps near the window, boosting myself up so we were sitting next to each other.
"I just, can't bring anyone there. You know?"
She shook her head, her curls bouncing off her cheeks. "No I don't know. Prim, you need to move on. Katniss would have wanted you too." This time she doesn't ramble, and by the way her teeth are clenched together I can tell that she's trying very hard not to. I always put Astrid for granted, when in fact all she's doing is trying to be the greatest friend that she can in this situation.
I backtrack her comment. She would've wanted me to move on, but I just didn't know how to. It was too difficult.
So, I would pretend and take it day by day.
It's the only way I'll make it through.
I breathed out, "I know Astrid. I just need time."
Astrid bumped my shoulder, gently, a comforting, sorrowful smile stretched across her lips. "It's been four years. It's your sixteenth birthday, you need to move on."
"I don't know how."
She pondered my comment for a minute, a thoughtful look on her face. "Well, you could start by throwing a party." I roll my eyes, but there's an amused smile on my face.
"We'll see," I patted her leg, then slid down back into the bathroom. Astrid disappeared from the window, with a short goodbye forming on her lips.
I step outside and take in my surroundings. District twelve was the exact same, as it always had been. Poor, grimy, and lifeless.
That pretty much defined me.
That's why I spent most of my time at the meadow. Away from everyone else. I grip my game bag tightly and take a long glance at the bakery, while I was passing.
Peeta was dead, too.
I remember the funeral so distinctively in my head.
I was only twelve.
This wasn't supposed to be happening.
It wasn't- it wasn't...
It wasn't fair.
I stared at the black, shiny coffin in front of me. And it stared back, taunting me. The night before, I had watched an explosion, as they tried to blow up a force field. It had killed them all, except for Johanna Mason, who was crowned winner.
I had cried so hysterically I had passed out. When I had awakened, my mother was handing me a black dress. Her face was dead and pale. Eyes red. I took it from her, though I had no recognition of putting on the dress, nor the walk to the funeral. Everything was numbed out.
Peeta's black coffin was sitting next to her, his father and mother standing over it. The mother wasn't crying, just staring at it, like she knew that this was bound to happen.
Then, to my surprise, Peeta's dad came over to me. I stared at the coffin though, never tearing my eyes away from it.
"Primrose?" He asked, hoarsely, and I knew he had been crying. For Peeta? For Katniss? For both? I never knew and I never bothered to ask. He echoed my name again.
"They wanted me to give this too you." At his comment, my eyes flickered up. In his hand was a golden pin.
The Mockingjay pin.
Her Mockingjay pin.
I snatched it away from him, maybe a little too roughly, but I didn't care at the moment. I felt his eyes burning into the top of my head, but I kept staring at the bird pin. I kept rubbing my hands gently over it. Kept feeling the warmth on my fingertips.
"Thank you." I say to him lifelessly, when he doesn't leave after giving me Katniss's pin. That was the only thing I had said the whole day, yet it had seemed like an eternity. The only thing I had done, that made me at least seem even the slightest bit humane. He then puts a hand on my shoulder, and I try not to flinch away from his affectionate touch.
"I would say that I'm sorry, but I think that you've heard that enough today." I was slightly surprised at his words, but gave him a distinctive nod. I was glad someone finally understood that I didn't give a shit about people who I barely even know feeling sorry for me. They act like I don't hear the whispers about my neglecting mother, and my now deceased sister who had survived the Hunger Games only to die in the next. They act like I don't hear the whispers and murmurs, of how it was my fault.
My fault that she had died.
"Tuck in your tail little duck." I whirl around, hearing Katniss's voice abruptly speak from right behind me.
There's no one.
Mr. Mellark sends me a look of puzzlement. "What is it Prim?"
I shake my head, not speaking. There was nothing there, except the utter sadness that was drowning me from the inside out.
Nothing there except for me and the Mockingjay pin.
I blinked, realizing that I had been staring at the bakery for longer than I had intended. I eye the cakes and just remember how Katniss and I would stare at them for hours among hours, until Mrs. Mellark shooed us away.
A ghost of a smile pulled at my lips, from the warmth of the memory. It's bittersweet, but all I can feel from it right now, is it's sweetness.
"Well, well, well. Never thought I'd see the day where Primrose Everdeen would actually smile." The smile etched across my lips is replaced by a look of irritation, when I see who's standing in front of me.
Orion, Astrid's older cousin.
He grins at me, through his jet black hair.
He grins at me, with his silver eyes.
Silver.
Not grey, not foam colored, not blue, not green, not even a seam grey, but in fact a bright silver. That was the only thing about Orion that didn't annoy me; his silver eyes.
He was carrying a load of strawberries and a painful memory flashes through my mind. I swallow it down, like I usually have to do. I prayed that I didn't show the pain on my expression. He simply stares at me for a moment, and I suddenly feel subconscious under his stare.
Resisting the urge to make sure I look presentable, I roll my eyes. "Nice strawberries."
"Nice braids." He tugs on the end of one of them, and I can't help but smiling at his playful banter. His eyes light up again at my reaction. "You should smile more often you know, it suits you well."
I shrug, today wasn't as agonizing as the other long, dreary days. It was my sixteenth birthday after all. Not that I care about the birthday itself, it's just another year.
The age has another message to it: only two more years till I have to stop attending the reaping.
I slung my game bag onto my other shoulder, looking anywhere but at his eyes. "Going to see if the mayor wants any?" I know the answer, but I ask anyway, to stay away from the awkwardness of silence.
"Of course, Primsy." I swat at his head aiming for the back of it for a well deserved biff. He knows I despise that nickname of his, but I think that it just pleases him more to know that.
"Don't call me that!"
He winks at me, and I flush, which isn't something that usually happens when I talk to him. I mentally lecture myself.
What is going on with me today?
I shake my head gently, innocently, and try and get my blush under control. He seems to notice the redness spread along my cheeks and a pleased smile forms on his face, showing me a flash of his dimples. I blush a deeper shade of scarlett, at his actions.
"Only for you."
I huff and cross my arms tightly against my chest stubbornly, my blush replaced by competiveness. He's not going to win this one. "Are you going to move? You're blocking the path."
He normally would tease and banter with me longer, but he lets out a quiet sigh and moves out of my way. Total out of character for him. That worries me a little, but I don't comment on his behavior and dismiss my pessimistic thoughts.
I'm walking past him and he brushes my bare wrist gently.
It feels as though I've been electrocuted, and I'm in shambles. Just from the slightest touch of him, there's in intensity in my stomach that I can't just dismiss. I resist the urge to shudder, and recoil my hand ever so slightly.
"Happy birthday," he whispers in my ear, which sends shivers down the back of my neck. I shut my eyes gently and let out a slight gasp, (so quiet he probably couldn't hear it) as his hands gently flint around my waist. Then, to my back. Then to the top of my neck. Everywhere he touches burns.
I'm sure of it now, that he's doing it on purpose.
I don't pull away, and that surprises me.
His hands make a trail up to my neck, and I feel something cool take the place of his warm hands. He pulls my braid from underneath the latch, and it clicks into place.
A necklace.
I almost blush at my stupidity, realizing that he in fact wasn't feeling me up, but he was tying a necklace around my neck. Feeling sheepish, I avert my gaze down to the grassy floor beneath me.
He steps away, and gives me a another warm smile. I remain silent and look down at it, studying it.
It's a rose, shimmering with diamonds on the edges.
I don't look at him, as I hesitantly run my hand along the diamonds, gossamer to my touch.
"There not real diamonds," I hear him confess, embarrassment in his tone. I didn't release my finger from the charm though. "And I know you said you didn't want anything-but I saw this, and..." Orion's voice trails off, as he realizes that he's rambling. Not just a rose I suddenly realize, my heart still beating irregularly. It's a primrose, my namesake. It's light, mainly a lavender color, but mixed in with other shades. "Well, I, uh, thought that you would like it. It's a primrose. Doyou like it?"
I drop the necklace and it brushes my collarbone, and seems to rest perfectly on the tip of my breasts.
"It's beautiful," I tell him in an airy voice. "Really, truly, it is." His face brightens, but because he's known me for four years he replies, "there's a 'but,' isn't there?"
"Yes," I admit, bouncing on my left foot a bit. "How much did this cost?"
He snorts at my response, "come on Primsy! It's not like I sold my house for it, I just saw it and bought it. It is your sixteenth birthday after all."
I urged foreword, despite his casual reply. "Seriously Orion, I don't want me spending your money on me."
He smiles, his silver eyes gleaming. "I know," then he saunters off without another word, the strawberries gleaming in his basket. I narrow my eyes at him as he leaves.
And just when I thought we could get past the strangle each-other phase. But no, he had to just do that.
I look down at the necklace once more, but there's a sense of guilt to it. I really didn't want him spending his money on me.
Because really it's wasting his money.
I head towards the woods again, hoping to not be stopped again.
But my hope dies down as soon as I see the man passing beside me. His hands in his worn jean pockets, but a couple fingers slip out of them, because of the ripped hole in them.
His brown hair looks newly trimmed, (which startles me) and his seam grey eyes are dark and stormy as usual. My heart thuddered painfully just by seeing him.
By seeing him, it's another reminder of my deceased sister.
"Hello Gale," I acknowledge him carefully. He's twenty three now, which is a little hard to accept. I'll always think of him as the teenager who was Katniss's friend. "How's Posy?" Just from his expression I can tell he wants to dart away and hide. That's often what I crave most of the time. Just to fall asleep in bed, and never wake up. Living, but never dying.
He smells of whiskey, but has never been an angry drunk, so I don't worry. Besides me Gale has taken Katniss's death hard. At first, all he would do was disappear in the forest and never come out. Then, as he aged, the sorrow resulted in drinking.
Drinking and sex. Considering his good looks, it was most likely not very difficult for him to achieve those goals.
"Good." His voice is stiff, and I can tell he's trying to cover up his slurs. He still cares for me and my mother, bringing us game.
When I asked him why a few years back, he said he was keeping a promise.
I guess that's a promise I'll never know.
He takes a deep, hoarse, breath. "It's your birthday." His words wasn't a question, and wasn't a statement. It was just words.
I nod. "I know."
"Remember what me and Katniss got you for your birthday?" I wince at the mention of her name, and pray it's not noticeable. I knew instantly what birthday he was talking about. I didn't want to speak to Gale when he was like this, as I exclaimed before, he wasn't an angry drunk. But he was a sorrow filled drunk. He leaned up against the frail fence behind us, sitting in a precarious position. I don't respond, but my mouth hangs slightly open wanting to speak, but the answer keeps dying in my throat. "That messed up goat." He throws his hand to the side in a biffing motion, and my eyes flit to the ground.
"I know."
"I know you know. How's that goat of yours doing?"
This time I'm not so hesitant to shoot him a glare. "You know she died a couple years ago, Gale!" He sighs, as if expecting this reaction.
He thinks it's my fault.
He thinks it's my fault that Katniss perished in the arena.
I know he does, but I cannot be one hundred percent sure. He's never told me those direct words to my face, and always brings me game, and shows me some kindness. But I know what he thinks of me, I know what most people think of me. They think they don't hear the whispers of gossip, the whispers that are torture to my ears.
'you know it's her fault, right?'
'poor girl. She won, yet she had to be sent back into hell itself. It all started with that act of bravery to save her sister Prim.'
'heavens knows the wrong sister died on that day'
I blink painfully and he scoffs, rolling his grey eyes, almost falling backwards. "Happy birthday. Did I already say that?"
I shook my head, signaling no. "No, Gale."
He shoots me a look that I don't quite understand, and pats to his leather game bag. I'm slightly startled that he could afford something as rich as that; must've bribed a woman who worked at the Hob. "Got you some squirrel." Then, he gets that glazed look in his eyes, like he's not really here. Like he's in another world, that isn't reality. I sometimes feel like that. It does that, it numbs the guilt, like medicine.
He blinks, abruptly snapping out of his other world. "Only two more years left, Prim." I know exactly what he means.
I let out an airy breath, and pleased to know that it's one of relief. "I know, I'm glad."
"Bet you are." He fidgets, almost like he wants to open his game bag once more. Probably some beer or whisky in there. The thought nauseates me, and I suddenly wonder if Astrid will come through with her offer.
I really hope that she doesn't.
I had never liked that revolting liquid, it just made people to stupid, idiotic things. And I certainly didn't need Alcohol to make my decision making difficult. It was already hard enough.
"You're just like Catnip you know. But, you weren't supposed to turn out like her."
I turn around my anger rushing to my face. My face twists in rage and accusation. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"You aren't Katniss, Prim. So stop trying to fill her place." His voice is firm, but it sounds almost like hatred as he talks to me. I blink and it feels like someone's punched the air out of me. "Because you'll never be her, Prim. You'll just be her little sister. Her little sister that she volunteered for." I get the message coming from the words, even though he didn't straight out dead pan it. I slowly process what he says, letting Gale's cruel words play over and over in the back of my mind. Like a broken record.
Then I suddenly understand what he meant by it.
All I see is red.
I don't process what I'm doing until my hand collides with his cheek, in a rough slap. It felt good, but there's a stinging guilt too it, almost as if I was the one being slapped. I flinch momentarily and because of the position on the fence Gale's sitting on, he loses his balance and tumbles to the ground.
"Sorry." I mutter quickly, not really apologetic.
Gale looks up from where he lays, a look of utter disbelief on his face. My anger begins to fade, as I see how pathetic and wasteful he looks, all crimpling to the rough ground like that. His game bag falls the other way, and it gets instantly soaked, by a suspicious liquid that looks and smells a lot like alcohol.
I crinkle my nose, as he shakes the leaves and grass from his messy, dark hair.
He stares up at me, then slurs out, "sorry. I guess I deserved that."
I glower down at him, my nostrils faring, and cheeks heated. "Yes. You did. And if you even so much as mutter my sister's name- or mention her ever again- I will end you. Hear me, Gale? Oh, and another thing I am nothing like my sister."
"She is-was- one of a kind."
Then I sprint away, not bothering to waste another second on him.
I get to the meadow longer than I had intended to. I pause, listening, half expecting to hear the buzz, signaling that the electric fence was on.
There was none.
I slip through it easily.
Then, I feel two hands latch onto my hair, smashing the side of my head into a tree.
Then it was all darkness.
A/N: Wow. This is probs the longest thing I have ever written. I Hoped you liked it guys! Just in case you didn't notice in the summery, this story is co-written by ThaliaThornGrace, so be sure to check out her work as well!
More stories by Me:
1. The Way They're Not»reviews
"To Annabeth Chase Bad Boys are arrogant, players who have no care for rules. To Percy Jackson Good Girls are uptight, vain girls, who don't know how to live." When Annabeth Chase gets a reporting job she is thrilled. Until she finds out what the job is. She has to dress and act like a guy and join a gang. The big problem- Percy Jackson is the gang leader. Percabeth.
Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rated: T - English - Romance/Drama - Chapters: 17 - Words: 48,681 - Reviews: 415 - Updated: 5-23-13 - Published: 1-26-13 - Annabeth C. & Percy J.
2. Unfinished Storiesreviews
"Annabeth Chase didn't think she was crazy, but when it came to a certain green eyed boy... she thought she was going insane." A collection of unfinished one-shots or short stories I have yet to finish. Most are Percabeth, but some include other couples as well such as Jeyna/Jasper/Lazel etc. Vote on the unfinished stories that you think I should continue! Rated K-T.
Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rated: T - English - Chapters: 1 - Words: 987 - Reviews: 5 - Published: 5-20-13
3. The Butterfly Effectreviews
"It was said by the Butterfly Effect that the smallest of changes can affect something else. Negatively or positively. And Katniss was about to find out what the butterfly effect was. For the better or worse. But mostly for worst." When Katniss "dies" in the arena it leaves an impact on everyone. But what happens when what they thought isn't true? Co written: ThaliaThornGrace. T/M.
Hunger Games - Rated: T - English - Romance/Suspense - Chapters: 1 - Words: 169 - Reviews: 6 - Published: 5-19-13 - Katniss E. & Peeta M.
4. Chasing Chase»reviews
Annabeth Chase- a wanted fugitive for murder. Percy Jackson- a professional bounty hunter, who just happens to get assigned to the notorious Annabeth Chase. The only problem on Percy's mind is finding her. Well, until those pesky things called "feelings" start getting in the way. Falling in love with Annabeth was the easy part, but can Percy save her from himself? Percabeth.
Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rated: T - English - Romance/Drama - Chapters: 4 - Words: 8,510 - Reviews: 76 - Updated: 5-13-13 - Published: 3-31-13 - Annabeth C. & Percy J.
5. Tears of Glassreviews
"How would her gravestone get here? It was impossible, because her whole family was...dead. Yet here it stood in the middle of a graveyard." Katherine reflects on her past, and all her mistakes. She also remembers all the times that she, the Katherine Peirce, cried. "Because it hurt. And feeling the shards of glass escape from her eyes, somehow made it all better." Rated T.
Vampire Diaries - Rated: T - English - Angst/Hurt/Comfort - Chapters: 1 - Words: 2,543 - Reviews: 4 - Published: 5-8-13 - Katherine
6. Reality Bites Mereviews
"...Because it's fun to write a fanfic about a show you've never seen." Dedicated to Wemmabby, for her thirteenth birthday! Parody. Rated T for teenager.
Walking Dead - Rated: T - English - Parody - Chapters: 1 - Words: 1,510 - Reviews: 3 - Published: 4-13-13 - Complete
7. Eternal Flame Prologuereviews
A one shot/prologue to the new Percy Jackson fanfic Eternal Flame. Review and let me know if I should continue this or change the prologue. R&R
Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rated: T - English - Romance/Angst - Chapters: 1 - Words: 1,575 - Reviews: 9 - Published: 3-31-13 - Annabeth C. & Percy J. - Complete
8. SEA OF MONSTER TRAILERreviews
TITLE SAYS ALL! "Percy, Kronos is rising. He is a soul far more evil than you have ever faced... destroy him because he plans to rise again, to conquer Olympus... and the world." THATS WHAT THE ORACLE SAYS IN THE TRAILER... NO JOKE! There's an oracle, Annabeth dyes her hair blonde, the Grey sisters, CLARISSE, Grover, Hermes, THE GOLDEN FLEECE! Read this, watch online, comment!
Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rated: T - English - Chapters: 1 - Words: 452 - Reviews: 18 - Published: 3-30-13 - Complete
9. Let the Fear inreviews
"The fear was real. And I knew I had to deal with it. So I just made a choice. I'd let the fear in, let it take over, let it do its thing, but only for five seconds, that's all I was going to give it. So I started to count: one, two, three, four, five. Then it was gone." The fear was controlling her, as the car sat underwater. Then she thought- Jason. She had to save him. Somehow.
Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rated: T - English - Family/Angst - Chapters: 1 - Words: 2,878 - Reviews: 10 - Published: 3-26-13 - Thalia G. & Jason G. - Complete
10. Guiltreviews
"Because in the end Annabeth decided that it's the guilt that is the worst." The aftermath of Tarturas, Annabeth and Percy have to deal with the heavy guilt that easily overpasses the burden of the sky. Rated T for torture, suicide, angst. Percabeth.
Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rated: T - English - Romance/Angst - Chapters: 1 - Words: 1,978 - Reviews: 21 - Published: 3-23-13 - Annabeth C. & Percy J. - Complete
11. Kill Them Last»reviews
Trouble arises on Mount Olympus when a "Goddess" shows up. It only gets worse when she abducts Percy and his friends and makes them play a game. The catch? Only one lives. Percabeth. On hiatus until June 30th.
Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rated: T - English - Suspense/Romance - Chapters: 3 - Words: 4,702 - Reviews: 51 - Updated: 3-21-13 - Published: 3-12-13 - Annabeth C. & Percy J.
12. All's Fair in Love and Warreviews
"Wait," Rachel said backtracking. "Did you just call me a hooker?" Octavian looked confused as she leaned up against the statue of Jupiter and giggled." He hated her. He despised her. So why was he finding it so hard not to stare into those green eyes of hers? She hated him. She despised him. Yet for some reason, he amused her to no end.
Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rated: T - English - Humor/Romance - Chapters: 1 - Words: 1,671 - Reviews: 10 - Published: 3-8-13 - Octavian & Rachel D. - Complete
13. The Little Mockingjayreviews
"On the last moment, I rub the pin back and forth in between my fingertips feeling the warmth from it. The warmth from the little Mockingjay." Prim's perspective during the reaping, with a kiss on the cheek, comfort, and her thoughts about the capitol and the little glass bowl full of slips, she despises. Rated T for Angst and depressing words.
Hunger Games - Rated: T - English - Angst/Hurt/Comfort - Chapters: 1 - Words: 972 - Reviews: 13 - Published: 2-24-13 - Prim E. - Complete
14. Lovereviews
"Do you love, Annabeth?" Tyson questioned, as I spit out my drink. "What?" Tyson asks Percy if he loves Annabeth, and other very personal questions about their relationships. Set in TBOL, One-shot. Percabeth.
Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rated: T - English - Romance/Humor - Chapters: 1 - Words: 887 - Reviews: 20 - Published: 2-20-13 - Annabeth C. & Percy J. - Complete
15. It was Herreviews
After Beckendorf's death, Percy and Annabeth have a meaningful talk about his death, the prophecy, the war and about a certain red-head. "It wasn't your fault." "I can't loose you." "You won't." "You don't have to be jealous of her." One shot.
Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rated: T - English - Romance/Hurt/Comfort - Chapters: 1 - Words: 1,586 - Reviews: 20 - Published: 2-19-13 - Annabeth C. & Percy J. - Complete