2

Peeta left soon after breakfast, saying something about Haymitch. I hadn't seen him since we got back. I didn't know if he was alive or not. For some reason I didn't want to find out. I didn't want Haymitch's sarcastic remarks to pierce through me. Not on a day where I was feeling so good. I knew it was selfish, but I don't think he would mind. I deserved to be a little selfish, and Peeta would take better care of him than I ever would.

I walked back up to my bedroom, curled up in my covers, and started to cry. I knew I had no reason to cry at the moment. I had already cried so much. But all my strength has seemed to leak straight out of me, and these days, it seemed like crying was the only thing I knew how to do.

I fell asleep curled in my bed, Buttercup by my side. I let the nightmares take over. I was back in my first Hunger Games. At first I couldn't figure out where, but then I recognized the cave where Peeta and I hid for so many nights. The only difference was that Peeta wasn't there. I walked out of our hiding place to go find him. Instead I walked straight into a mob. A mob of the dead. They were all speaking to me. Some were screaming, others were quietly talking. When I woke up, I was temporarily confused as to where I was. I was screaming and it was dark, and for a moment I was expecting to see all the dead people creeping towards me.

I realized I was safe. No, safe isn't there. I thought of Johanna. She knew that. She knew that as victors we would never be safe. There were only seven of us now. I didn't even know what happened to her. I didn't know what happened to most of them. As I laid there calming myself down, trying to bring down my heart rate, which seemed dangerously high, I decided that I would put some effort into finding out.

I walked out of my room, Buttercup following, not knowing what time it was or how long I have been asleep. All I knew at the moment was that I was hungry. I walked down stair, looking for food. Greasy Sae seemed to have already made dinner. It was a pot of one of her stews. It didn't seem as questionable as some of her others, but it was the only food in sight. It was cold, but still tasted pretty decent. I shoveled mouthful after mouthful, but no matter how much I ate I never seemed to be content.

I sat there, with the empty pot, wanting more and more. Buttercup sat at my feet. He never seemed to leave me alone anymore, and I didn't want him to. The sun rose a couple of hours later, but I still sat where I was, not moving and inch. I didn't want feel victim to the nightmares again. There was a time where I could face them, knowing Peeta would be there when I woke up. But now I could never expect him to do that for me. I had just gotten him to talk to me without freaking out. I couldn't be so selfish as to use him like that, no matter how much I needed him.

I needed him.

Those words triggered something in me. It made me think of Gale. I winced at the thought. "Katniss will pick whoever she thinks she can't survive without." He was wrong. He was wrong because I couldn't survive without either him or Peeta. At least at the time, I couldn't survive without him. But he wasn't coming back. My best friend, just like my mother, was not coming back. Maybe, I would never get to see him again. And something broke between us. I pushed myself to face reality. Things between us had been falling apart for a while. Now I can't think of him, without thinking about Prim's death. I will always go through life, wondering if it was his trap. One of the many traps that I relied on for so long, that I now hated. There is this sadness and darkness that has broke us apart. We aren't the same girl and boy that met so many years ago. Maybe we aren't even friends anymore. I would never find out.

Greasy Sae then walked into the room. She cooked breakfast as usual. I pushed my thoughts of Gale away. They hurt just like so many others. Instead, I shoveled the scolding hot food in my mouth, without caring if it burned me or not. I was the Girl on Fire. I have been burned plenty of times before.

I looked around the kitchen. The room I looked at for so many days without moving, barely alive. Then, this room seemed empty, and devoid of purpose. Now, I seemed to be chocking me, crushing me as it closed in on me. I needed to go, to run, to find a place where the dead ones won't haunt me. I quietly told Greasy Sae, that I was going. I knew, even before I realized it, where I going to. Buttercup quietly following me, I walked up the front porch steps to Haymitch's house. I partially knew I was hiding from him from the past couple of weeks, but now I needed the wakeup call he would give me.

I prepared myself for what I was going to see. The mess, the stink, Haymitch probably passed out from being so drunk. Instead I found him quite sober at his kitchen table. The house was a close to clean as it ever will be, and Haymitch seemed to be alive though his focus would not drift from the spot on the wall he was looking at. "Haymitch?" I said in a quiet voice.

He turned and looked at me. He didn't smile nor frown. He just merely said, "I was wondering when you would be stopping by."

"Didn't you say you were going to check up on me? Not the other way around," I accused.

A faint smile made it to his lips. He said with the same sarcasm in his voice as he used to have, "Now did you actually believe that?"

No. I answered mentally. I never really believed that. I knew he would be drunker than he ever was in his life. He didn't like 12. Didn't he once say that he couldn't face it without a drink? He came back, though. He came back for me. The only one who did. Peeta and I are the only ones he still cares about. He was still protecting us. Still being our mentor. "Thank you," I replied, as I sat down across from him.

"No problem, sweetheart."

It only took a couple more minutes for me to start wondering why he was sober. I think the only time he willingly became sober was during my two Hunger Games, so it had to be something else. "Why don't you have a drink?"

"There's no more," he merely replied, gesturing to the many empty bottles scattered around the room. How could I not have noticed them before? Maybe I was just losing my touch. I didn't really care.

"Haymitch," I said, "what happens now?"

He doesn't hesitate before answering, "We stay alive."

It was the only real advice he had ever given me. He has said it to me and Peeta before each Hunger Games. It was practically a joke now, but I knew it was the truth. I knew he meant it. Then I felt fear, just for a second. Not for me, but for all the others. The future generations, those who are already dead. "We can't let them forget what has happened. Never."

"Never," he agreed. And just through that one word. We made a pact. A pact to keep on going. A pact to never anybody forget. A pact to rebuild what was left into something better, something worth living for. I know I had already promised myself this, but it would be easier knowing that somebody else will be there for you, and along with Buttercup, who was curled at my feet, I knew we would succeed.

We continued talking, for what seemed like hours. I find out from him that Johanna went to District 2 just like Gale. They were working together to help form a better government. President Paylor was trying to build a republic. Enobaria went back to District 2 also, not that I really cared about her. Beetee stayed in District 3 with Plutarch, working on new technology. What really brought me to tears was hearing about Annie. I never knew how she took Finnick's death. I never got to find out. She went back to District 4. My mother agreed to take care of her. She was pregnant, and I couldn't feel happier for her or Finnick.

Soon enough, I found I was tired once again. I left Haymitch saying that I would come and check up on him again. Then we laughed because in all reality, he was sent here to take care of me. I went home and went to sleep. Instead of nightmares, I found myself dreaming of Annie and Finnick, together once again, holding their newborn child.