[Years later …]
[GPOV]
I never heard from her. Every letter I sent, my hope that she would respond somehow, grew; only to fall the next time I looked in my mailbox.
I'm an old man now. Okay, that's a bit of a lie: I'm not that old. I'm in my mid-forties now, living alone, ostracizing myself from society, clutching a fading picture of a girl I once loved then lost.
Her hair's in a braid; her face stern, but her lips seem to want to twitch up into a slight smile; her eyes timeless, still like the girl I saw in the woods all those years ago. I get lost in the picture, reminiscing, thinking when I hear a slight knock on the door.
I grumble as I get up to answer it, and find two teenagers staring at me.
"Um, excuse us, are you Mr. Hawthorne?" The girl asks.
"Yes," I reply curtly.
"May we come in?"
I move to one side to let them through and they sit down. I take a bit of time to actually examine the two in front of me and am shocked at what I see.
"Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Hawthorne—" the girl speaks up.
"—Call me Gale," I interrupt.
"Um, Gale," she continues, "We're Katniss's children."
"Thought so," I scoff slightly, "You look like your mother."
She beams up at me, "My name's Prim."
"Prim …" I let the name stay in my mouth longer than it should, "Primrose, like the flower."
She nods, gives me a small smile, and nudges the boy beside her.
The boy who resembles him in so many ways looks up at me, and the hatred I first had when I saw him disappears when I notice his eyes: silver, like his mother.
"My name's Gale," he whispers.
I give him the slightest movement of my head and he understands.
"Our mother never forgot about you," Prim says, "She always told us about her time in the woods with you. They were the majority of my bedtime stories."
"She wrote this a few years back, but she never sent it." Gale hands me a letter, "Said it was for you."
"How is she?" I ask, suppressing my eagerness.
"She, um …"
"She's dead." Prim answers. "Cancer."
My eyes are glassy as I give them a nod. I envision the girl who survived everything lying on a bed, her life ticking away. I gulp as the weight of the letter in my hands suddenly feels so heavy.
"We're sorry to barge in here." Prim looks at me, "We'll leave now."
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Hawthorne," Gale stands up and shakes my hand.
Then they leave out the door while I sit on the couch, waiting until I can finally open the letter. Then the moment comes, and I open it slowly as I read her very last words to me.
Dear Gale,
I hope you know that I've read all your letters. I've thought about answering all of them, but I couldn't. But now, I decided to.
District 12 is getting better: Haymitch is an ass, as usual, but he's slowly warming up to me, I guess. Peeta hasn't freaked out on me yet, and other than that, he's good to me and he makes me happy. It feels weird here: probably because you're not here.
I know that you feel that Prim's death was because of you. But let's just say that I know she doesn't blame you. I don't blame you either.
A few days ago, I took a walk in the woods, and I remembered our times in the woods. I think about them all the time, too, and I plan on telling my children about them. They'll grow up knowing and loving the woods. Just like you and me.
My preference to the weather hasn't really changed. It's still kind of the same, but with a few differences: You're right, I like sunsets now. But I love those mornings all the same.
You once said that you came to the realization that you didn't know me anymore. I would like to change that. So, we need to see each other soon. I miss you.
I'm not really sure what else to say here, so I guess I'll just end it here. Don't be a stranger: call me, write me, whatever, okay?
I love you, too … you're my best friend.
Catnip
Her signing Catnip was the trigger. After reading it, my weak attempts at trying to silence my cries weren't working and you could hear my cries from a mile away.
I didn't see her before she died. I didn't get to hunt one last time with her. I didn't get to feel her lips on mine for the last time.
The reality of her death had sunk in, but I couldn't accept it. I couldn't think that Katniss, Katniss who survived everything from two Games to her father dying in a mine explosion, hadn't survived cancer.
To this day, I still cry. I try not to, but in the end, I always do. Sometimes, I have those days where everything doesn't seem real. I have those days where I question if Catnip and Gale really existed.
So I read the letter. It reminds me that they did:
Catnip and Gale once were best friends…
Gale once fell in love with Catnip…
Gale once lost Catnip to a Merchant boy…
I miss her every single day. Other than my family, she was the only thing that kept me alive. I like to think the same from her. But of course, I'll never know.
Sometimes, when I sleep, I feel her presence with me. Sometimes, when I'm out at work, I'll see something: a braid, an arrow, something that reminds me of her, and I feel her with me.
Once, Gale left Catnip for a job in District 2.
But then he wrote her letters and she responded with one back, and Gale came back to Catnip, even though she had to leave.
Gale won't ever leave Catnip, just like Catnip never left Gale.
Sucked, didn't it? Sorry for that. But I decided to upload it since I finished it anyway.
Anyway, look out for an update of WDGF!
If you'd like to scream at me for how much this sucked, you may in the reviews.
loveyouguys;
-S