Thank you so much for the initial interest in this story! The topic is one that I hold very near to my heart. I feel kindred to Katniss and have drawn a lot of my own experiences into these chapters. You will notice that the first paragraph of this second chapter is the same as the first paragraph in the first chapter...and it was intentional. The feeling she has on this particular day is always the same, her reaction to those feelings are what is different.
Enjoy this next installment! I'm still so incredibly nervous about sharing my writing with everyone. All mistakes are my own!
When the second anniversary of her death is thrust upon her she is absolutely destroyed by the feeling of her heart breaking apart in her chest all over again. The burn inside of her is so extreme that every piece of her feels dead, like her...and every part of her wishes it was actually true. So quickly her breaking point had been reached and slowly every bit of resolve she had managed to build up in the previous 730 days shattered somewhere deep inside of her, in a place she hadn't even known existed prior to that moment…and she knew she would never be whole again. There was no possible way she could be; after all that had happened within the span of those brief terrifying moments she…she didn't want to think about what had happened, but she couldn't help it. It consumed her, defined her…ruined her.
She is up and out of bed before the sun, unable to further withstand that agony that came with her dreams, and though he stirs when she slips from his embrace she doesn't wake him. She just needed…space. Space and an opportunity to get away from everything and everyone that reminded her of what she'd lost. As she wandered aimlessly around their home, her nervous energy being all that propelled her despite her exhaustion, rage bubbled deep in her stomach. Her anger burned through every rational feeling she may have had and she found herself trembling.
It didn't seem fair. She'd been left behind to deal with the mess of emotions that comes with knowing you played a part in the death of your loved one. She wished they'd just killed her, too. That's all she really wanted. To be put out of her misery…to put an end to the pain and suffering she'd been so cruelly forced to endure. Why hadn't they just killed her, too? What did she have to do to make them see…a life without her, was hardly a life at all. Every peaceful moment she'd had in the past two years, with him by her side continuing to love her in spite of her many shortcomings, meant nothing because she couldn't share them with her little sister. Just being in her home drove her beyond the point of sanity. She could hardly stand it.
Bursting out the front door she momentarily relished in the pain that came with walking barefoot on the ground. She welcomed the burn the cold morning air blowing through her thin nightgown brought. If they were forcing her to stay alive she needed that physical pain. Pain to remind her every single day of what she'd lost. Rounding the house she fell to her knees before the primrose bushes he'd planted with a loving hand. She didn't want them, they weren't her sister. Her sister was dead…the bushes should be dead, too. Ignoring the sharp dig of the gravel in her bare knees she dug her hands into the soil, using every ounce of remaining strength she had left to rip the bushes from the ground.
"I don't need this," she muttered to herself, using the back of a dirty hand to wipe the sweat from her brow. With each tug she killed a little bit more of the bushes that had been planted in remembrance of her sister. With each tug the bushes became more and more like her sister…dead, gone, and at her hands. Tossing each and every victim behind her before plunging her hands back into the earth she felt more and more like herself…cold, heartless, a murderer.
"I don't want this…" her voice was louder than before and she cried out with every yank, her rage finally surfacing as her fingers began to bleed. "Just like…Prim. Dead! Die! Leave!"
As the final words fall from her mouth she is realizes she is screaming. Let them hear, let everyone in 12 hear how crazy she'd become. Let them judge her and cast their pity filled eyes on her. She'd given up every piece of herself to give them their freedom, she'd paid the ultimate price, and she didn't care what they thought. She would be Crazy Katniss for the rest of her life, it was time she started living up to the moniker.
"No!" she screamed loudly as strong familiar hands pulled her away from the destruction she was causing.
"Stop Katniss," his voice breaks through her screams as he falls down beside her, effectively covering himself in the dirt she'd pulled from the ground.
"No, let me go," she demanded as she pressed her bleeding hands into his chest and pushed him back before turning back to the mess she'd made.
"Stop it!" he insisted, his hold on her tighter than before.
"Why did you even plant these?" she yelled out to him as she grabs fistfuls of the destroyed bushes and throws them in his direction. "Why did you do this? To torture me? To keep her alive? She's not alive, she's not…she won't ever be again."
"But you are," he reminds her as he grabs her wrists, stilling her trembling hands. "You're alive, Katniss."
"No!" she argued with a shake of her head as she lunges at him, her nails clawing at his chest in an attempt to escape his hold. "Let me go!" she screams.
"No," his voice is stern as he drops her wrists and reaches out to take her face in his hands. "I'm not letting go."
"Why?" she cried out, attempting to force his hands away. "Why can't you just let me die, too?" her anger gives way to sobs as she falls forward, pressing her face into his chest and clawing at his arms with her dirty, wounded, hands. "Please!"
"I can't," his confession is a quiet one as his fingers to get lost in her knotted hair. "I need you."
"Please," she pleaded as she lifts her head, meeting his eyes. "Please let me die. Please, Peeta…let me die."
"Katniss…" his own voice breaks as she continues to plead with him. The worst part of all this is her eyes, once so alive with an internal fire she'd been the face of an uprising, had dulled considerably. Eyes so tired from crying, from existing, that they'd grown sullen and, just by looking into them for a split second, you could tell she'd given up. "I love you too much to let that happen. Let me help you. We help each other, remember? Let me help."
"It hurts to get up," she sobbed gently as she clawed at her face. "If I could just lie down forever I know...I know I would be with her again. Would she want me to stay down, Peeta? What would she want me to do? I need her to tell me what she would want me to do. "
"Shhh…" he whispered stilling her hands. "Let me help you. We can figure out what Prim would have wanted together."
"I hate this day…" her voice breaks as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her against chest. "I feel like nothing will ever be okay again."
"I know," he whispered his understanding as he kissed her face softly. "I wish I could bring her back…maybe if she were here instead of me…"
"No!" she interrupted frantically cupping his face in her hands. "I need you, too. I need you. Please, don't go away…I love you." As the words pass through her lips she presses her mouth to his and he can taste her tears but he relishes in them. As long as she's crying, she's still alive, in his arms. As long as she's crying, there's hope for her…for them.
"I need you, Peeta," she insisted again as her tortured eyes caught his own. "If you go now…if you go now I won't get through this…"
"I'm not going," he breathed as he brushed her hair from her face. "I can't."
"If you go now, I don't have a chance," her hands trembling as she runs them over his chest. "If you go now…if you go…"
"I came back for you," his reminder is a quiet one as he palmed her face in his hands and continued to cover her face with gentle, soothing, kisses. "I love you."
"Look what I did to what you did for her," she choked out sadly as her trembling hands begin picking up the piece of the plants she'd pulled from the ground.
"It's okay," he insisted quietly as he took the flowers from her hands. "We'll replant them. We'll do it together."
"I'm sorry," she whispered as she looked into his eyes. "I don't like being this way. I know she would hate me this way…"
"She would love you no matter what," he argued as he began examining her wounded hands. "Just like I do."
"I don't want to be like this anymore," she breathed as she curled against into his chest. "I don't want to feel anymore."
"It's okay to feel," he declared gently. "It means you're still living."
She nods slightly as he wraps his arms around her, his embrace shielding her from the early morning chill. Still, she trembles uncontrollably and wants nothing more than to disappear into him, where nobody would be able to find her. Everything would be better if she could just disappear and the extreme need to do just that overwhelms her, and scares even her. As his words echo in her ears, and his warm hands rub soothing circles into her back, she can't stop the confession from passing through her quivering lips.
"I don't want to live."