I tried painting my whole face red with this cheap-o face paint. Don't. EVER. I'll be sneezing red goo out for a MONTH.
oOo
I was in the forest, like most of my dreams. A creek ran nearby, burbling effortlessly over shiny wet rocks. I knew this place; it was hard to miss its familiarity. Gale and I used to fish here. His nets would be tied up to these rocks here, and we'd check our snares a little ways off. But even though I knew where I was, at the same time I didn't.
All of the colors—greens on trees, light blue in the sky, mossy brown, red fish, golden sunlight—seemed to glow even brighter than before. Every hue was amplified and shone so brightly it almost hurt my head. Something about this seemed so…unreal.
I took a cautious step forwards and knelt by the stream to cup some of the rippling silver water in my hands. It gathered willingly upon my fingers and I drank. A wave of nausea gripped me and I spewed all the water back out. It tasted like sewage. Ugh. Still wiping the taste from my mouth, I turned around. The world before me had changed.
The details on the rich colors all around me suddenly stood out, screaming at me. The brilliant red robins perched in the trees were just sitting there, eye's slit and bodies frozen. They remained unmoving.
The glossy brown of the earth seemed to writhe around, pulling in and pulling out with every ragged breath Mother Nature took.
Almost afraid, I looked up at the sky. It was still blue, but more like someone had stretched a canvas over the heavens and splattered neon blue paint over it. Bumps and smears shone through the chloroform sun.
It was all I could do not to scream. My body twisted around frantically the opposite direction to run away, but instead, I ran face-first into someone. Rubbing my forehead and feeling the pounding of my heart, I opened my eyes to see Gale. His face was contorted and his eyes looked down at me. Like everything else, the shades of his body were augmented, too. But even past the jet-black hair and the flawless olive skin, the brilliant silver of his eyes spoke to me the most. But, like everything else, I saw through.
"What are you doing here, Katniss?" Gale said, and his voice sounded far away, maybe as if we were on opposite ends and speaking through a long plastic tube.
I swallowed. "It's just a dream." I reminded myself, taking a tiny step backwards. The ecstatic feeling in my gut from the sight of my dead best friend had vanished, now replaced with fear.
"Of course. Nothing can hurt you." Though the words seemed nice, Gale spoke them harshly at me and shifted his bow to point past me.
The arrow flew through the air like a dagger. It spun towards a hunched figure a ways off, as if in slow motion, and I only had time to cry out before a sickening thud echoed around us. I ran towards where the arrow had landed.
A tiny girl lay sprawled on the churning earth, motionless except for a trickle of red blood rolling down her lip. But instead of an arrow sticking grotesquely out of her heart, a single white butterfly sat on her breast, wings swaying slightly in the breeze.
"Why did you do that?" I demanded, turning back to Gale with rage in my chest. Though I didn't act as I would have if my best friend just shot an innocent little girl.
"One in the same." He said, bending down to gather the girl into his shoulder bag.
"B-But she had a life, a family! You can just pull her away from that!" I attempted to reach out for the bag, with intentions of maybe saving the girl. "You had no reason to kill a little girl!"
Gale stopped and turned to me, making sure he was a good distance away. His eyes sparkled with malice. "And you don't think anyone else did? All those people you killed, Katniss? The ones who got worse than killed?"
My heart was hammering soundlessly in my chest and I shook, but held my head bravely. "That wasn't my fault. Everything happened for a reason, and-and if anything had happened differently, thousands more would be dead." I just repeated what Peeta had told me, which, miraculously, I remembered.
"Better dead than torn apart." Gale hissed, dropping the bag to the ground with a sneer. "They had it lucky. It was quick. Maybe even painless."
I felt very small, and very afraid. "The doctors said your death was painless, too."
His black hair whipped around his head as he turned away from me. "Is a broken heart so much better than death? Does it bring comfort to you to know I finally got to get away from all that? Watching you, never being more than a monster to you?"
A shiver raked my body and I took another step back. "You were never a monster."
"Wasn't I?" Gale grimaced, spiteful, and cast his silver-chip eyes down at the bag laying on the forest floor. "You did that, you know. You killed her."
"I watched you shoot an arrow in her chest!" I protested. "I didn't even have a bow!"
"Did you see the arrow in her chest?" He tilted his chin up, much like a lion before its kill. "It was you, Katniss. You don't need a weapon to kill. Your words alone brought hundreds—thousands—to their death. We don't need physical proof to know you're dangerous. But still, we have it."
A sob raised in my throat. "I saved them. I saved everyone from a fate worse than death and you know it. Just because I chose Peeta—"
"Chose him?" Gale looked spitefully incredulous. "Chose him? No, Katniss. You didn't just choose him." He shook his head. "You shattered me. You threw away something good you had for a boys' charming smile. You gave into their little ploy and decided to fall in love with him. You chose to be with him. You trusted everything he said, everything that happened. You believed his words when he said he loved you. You let yourself believe he loves you. After all we've been through, you decide to betray me. You could say he taught you to love, that you learned to love him. Yet I've loved you for twice as long, and you turned your back on the best thing that could have happened. It's almost as if you wanted everyone to die. You aren't a savior. You're bad for humanity."
There was a moment of painful silence when I breathed in the air, which had grown sickly sweet.
"Every death that has happened happed because of you and your decisions. You never had to love him. I have known you and loved you for years, and this is how you repay me?" Gale picked up the bag and slung it over his shoulder. "Time to pay back what you had lost long ago, Katniss Everdeen. And only then you'll see what you had once you lost it."
Gale turned his back to me and walked away.
The world under me swayed, and I felt myself falling forwards into the earth, which swallowed me up into blackness.
I woke up gasping for air and drenched in sweat. My chest was heaving and my heart was hammering uncontrollably, but it took no time registering where I was. And it took no time throwing off the covers. I stood up hastily, but let out a scream of shock as something grazed my wrist. Whirling around, I saw Peeta. His hand was still outstretched.
"Katniss, what's the matter?" He said, voice slightly slurred with the leftover sleep.
I backed away hastily and found myself shrinking against a wall in fright. The words Gale had said repeated themselves over and over in my head, slicing into my every being. Sweat stuck my hair to the back of my neck as I stood there trembling like a leaf.
Peeta got up out of bed and made his way over to me, hand still outstretched. Again, I flinched away and avoided his touch by dropping onto the floor and scrambling away from him, eyes wide with fright. He didn't make a move to touch me again, though.
I jammed my fists in my eyes crying, trying to get rid of the words branded in the backs of my eyelids. Time to pay back what you had lost long ago, Katniss Everdeen. And only then you'll see what you had once you lost it. What did he mean?
A hand swept a strand of sticky hair away from my neck and I winced away. "D-Don't… I can't…" Tears poured down my face as I clutched my elbows to myself.
But still, he insisted on wrapping an arm around my waist. With a cry, I shot up and backed into the opposite wall.
Peeta stared at me helplessly. "What's the matter, Katniss? Please," He took a hesitant step towards me, holding out his hand. "Tell me."
"I can't…" I swallowed, tears never ceasing. "I can't keep hurting you. I have to…I have to go. I can't keep doing this." In a watery trance, I detached myself from the wall and began walking towards the door. But arms wrapped around me, halting my steps.
"Not before you tell me." Peeta held his gaze resolutely with my own.
Though I was still trembling, I managed to get it out around shaky tears. "Gale hates me, Peeta. He hates me not just for choosing you, but for trusting you and he said-he said that I am bad for everyone, and I need to pay back what I took from everyone when all those people died. He said it was because of me, and…and no one needs physical evidence of the harm I've done. My words are enough to kill of an entire country. And I almost did…"
"It was just a dream, Katniss." Peeta pulled me into his chest and cradled me there for a second. "It wasn't real, and that was a lie. Don't believe anything he said for a second."
I was quiet. "He said having a broken heart is worse than death. And he was glad to leave. I put him out of the misery I caused."
His mouth opened to say something, but I pulled away from him before he could.
"Don't. Just…don't. I should go home." Fighting back another surge of emotion, I tugged away from Peeta and walked out, not able to see the helpless, tortured face of Peeta as I left.
Well, tried to leave.
I only made it down to the living room before my legs gave way and I feel to my knees on the carpet, clutching my arms to my chest. Thankfully, Peeta had been following me, so he was right there beside me.
"You don't have to leave," He said into my hair when I huddled against him for the billionth time. "Please, Katniss, stay here. It's the middle of the night. Stay with me."
I rubbed my eyes, not crying, but just completely and utterly exhausted. "I have to…I have to talk to Primrose. And I need more clothes. Mine are covered in sweat from my nightmare."
"Prim's probably asleep. It's three in the morning. And I could lend you some of my clothes if you want." Peeta always had an answer, and was so gentleman-like about it. Sometimes it made me feel like a monster.
It's not like I didn't borrow his clothes very much. Just half the time he dresses me in them after one of my oh-so-often meltdowns. So I just got up, ignoring my shaky legs, and let Peeta lead me by the hand back up to his room.
I waited as he pulled a spare T-shirt and a pair of pants from his closet, and when he handed them to me, I was too tired to go into the bathroom to change. So I just stripped my sweaty shirt and trousers there.
It didn't matter, of course, that I undress in front of Peeta. It wasn't like we hadn't seen each other before. Heck, we've done a lot more than "see" each other, but that's an entirely different story I don't enjoy thinking about. But anyways, I pulled on the clean, worn clothes and sat on the bed. Peeta sat next to me and was silent for a minute.
"Those are some killer scars you have." He attempted casualness—and maybe even humor—but I could see through him. My special little talent…
"Yeah." It didn't bother me—oddly enough—that Peeta had been watching me. Well, it did a tiny bit, but not much. I rubbed my temples. "For the first few months it hurt like crazy. I couldn't use any of my abdomen muscles because if I did, the grafted skin would tear and I would bleed for hours. The scars…" I threw a crooked grimace in his direction.
Peeta just nodded, pensively gazing at me, but not actually aware.
I reached up to touch the grafted skin through my shirt and felt it rough through the cotton material. No matter how many years passed, I would never get use to it. It made me so changed, different from the girl I used to be. Frowning slightly, I leaned back on the headboard.
My fingers tugged up the edge of my shirt, running the tips along the jagged marks. I could feel them, like Braille on my skin, the raised surface of the marks. And, again like Braille, I was able to read it to an extent. I knew which ones had come about, which ones that had healed first and which ones took the longest to stop hurting. When you were stuck in the hospital for months at end, there wasn't much to do besides keep track of your wounds. I'm half-surprised I didn't name them.
To my surprised, when I paused my finger on a particularly nasty scar, a hand reached over to cover my own. When I looked up, Peeta had his eyes locked to mine with a sympathetic look on. He didn't say anything, though. I looked away from him, back down to my exposed, disfigured abdomen.
The scar ran thick and diagonally across my belly button. It was white and slightly more ragged than the others, and I knew why. The day I got it flooded into my mind. It wasn't one I liked to remember. I was being a little too raucous for my pregnant self to like, and I upset the unborn child in me, earning a one-way trip to the hospital to get knocked out and cut open. A day or two after I got out, the wound tore open again and Peeta himself patched it up; that's why it wasn't uniform and straight like most of the others.
Peeta seemed to have remembered that as well, because he touched the tip of his finger to the scar. Eyes shining with wetness, he leaned over and pressed his lips, very gently, to tip the mark. I didn't care. I was on the verge of crying as well.
When he pulled away, his eyes were still wet. Saying nothing at all, Peeta tugged my shirt down and settled in the covers next to me.
"'Night, Peeta." I twined my fingers with his and closed my eyes, having the weight of sleep pull my head onto Peeta's shoulder.
To the sounds of each others' breathing, we cried ourselves silently to sleep, too exhausted to do anything but.
oOo
Having a week off school had done good things for this story. I feel very constructive right now. This length for chapters is okay, right? It's like three times as long as the first 30 chapters of Lo and Behold. I think I'm staying in the 2,000-3,500 rang. It's good, right? Don't forget to review. :D