-I do not own HG, all credit to Suzanne Collins. PLEASE R&R! I will write some more, but if I don't get feedback it'll be short. -
Katniss's POV:
Peeta left later that night; to be honest I scared myself. I now want to run. I opened myself to much, I let him hug me. Well, no I hugged him. That's worse! He comforted me and I to him, I suppose. But he left and I bundled up in a quilt as to hide myself from the world. I know I must go to bed but I don't want to be confronted by my reminders that I host so well. The fire sent a warm glow through out the room. It some how comforted me. Buttercup came into the living room and curled up by my feet. He whined for a moment then shut up rather fast when I glared at him. I fell into a slumber the moment I closed my eyes.
Colors…weird combinations of colors, odd shapes hosted the weird colors. They painted a distorted capital in an unknown yet very well known world of mine. Screams ignited my blood to rush through my ears. My face paled as I saw a cage in the middle of the distorted square. I heard the vague sounds of a chopper coming in, that's when it hit.'' No…NO, NO …NO!'' I scream. I then can not talk because I have been thrown onto the colorful ground by a extreme heat and force. The air knocked out of me. I am scratched and burned, I feel it so clearly. It does not bother me though, because I hear my name being called and there are two calling me. Both warm, one sweet and young the other handsome and caring. I feel so lost. The burning is so intense now I just want to die. I have no purpose anyway. Why does it matter, I will just lay here in pain and die; knowing that I am dying a horrible death and my pride not even caring. I am that far gone.
I some how realize that I am dreaming and force my eye lids open so I can wake up. It works and I notice the smell of bacon coming from the kitchen. I get up and walk over to the kitchen. I sit down and watch Greasy Sae cook breakfast. The front door opens and closes quickly. A familiar fresh warm smell enters the room as Peeta brings freshly baked bread to the table.
''Good morning'', he says to Greasy Sae and me. Greasy Sae smiles at him and I stare at him. It is not a friendly stare but it is not a glare. He seems to understand and sits down. He understands; he always understands. I don't know what we are now that I let him hug me with affection. Heck, I don't know what I am. But if anything I don't want to mess this up. He is right; Haymitch and he are all I really have. I have my mother but I won't let her in. She could come back, but I don't think I even want her to.
I notice that during my thoughts Peeta has started a conversation with Sae. Just the usual weather conversation or weekend plans, nothing with deep meaning. Peeta keeps looking at me, I think it is a habit of his anymore. We all eat while I am in my world and them in continuous discussion. Later after they cleaned up Sae spoke to me.
''Katniss, I am going to go out for a while, pick some stuff up for you and Peeta. Peeta offered to stay and keep you company.'' She said this with no real urgency, more matter of factly. I nodded, and with that she left. Peeta finished cleaning up while I walked into the living room and curled up in my protective cocoon. Peeta soon followed me in and started the fire again. I watched him and how gentle he was. I wonder if he still paints. I go out on a limb and ask.
''Peeta, do still paint?''
''Sometimes, it was part of my therapy. Now that I am back I would like to become more serious and maybe display them around town. You know, have something on display that brings joy.''
I do know; stuff like that is almost like a ray of sun. It brightens everywhere it goes. Peeta's hands can do that to. Peeta can do that, just by walking into a room. I watched his arms finish and then watched his legs left him up. He moves around very well on his prosthetic. I am in such deep thought about his body and how it moves so beautifully, I don't realize he is watching me watch him. I look up at him determine to not let him get satisfaction. But he smiles and sits next to me. I want to lean on him but I refrain.
''Do you want to talk?'', he asks.
''That depends on what you want to talk about.'' I say flatly.
-What did you think? Seriously I can't become a better writer if no one tells me what they think. Even if you don't have critism tell me what you thought of it in general.
As a writer I want to reach my audience. When you read from Katniss's POV I want you to feel her pain and tiredness of living, when you read Peeta's POV I want you to feel remorse and love for Katniss.
If you are a big HG fan and you like this story, please go to my profile and vote on my poll. It is for what I should write next, this story is one of them so don't get confused, but they are mostly HG related.
PLEASE tell me what you think! Thanks! -