CHAPTER FIVE
"Is that you?" I ask hoping to confirm my suspicion. My mother gives a slight apprehensive nod. What is she doing on there? I glance over and notice her clutching my dad's hand so hard that his fingers are turning blue. I have never seen her so overwrought before.
"Mommy why are you on the TV?" Asher is just as confused about the situation as I am. My mother stays quiet. I notice the image on the screen has changed. It now shows another teenager but this one is male and has curly blonde hair. His bright blue eyes are full of happiness and life but it all seems to be a cover up for his true feelings. Clearly this is a younger version of my dad. He is talking a man with colored hair and a blue suit, obviously a capitol citizen. They are discussing calling a cease fire. A cease fire to what? I look over at my dad just in time to notice his reaction. His pupils dilate and he begins to grip the arm of the couch so tight that his knuckles are white. My mother tries to help him snap out of what I like to call his episodes.
I hear a slight whimper to my left and turn to see Asher with tears streaming down his face. I rush over and pull him into an embrace. Asher always hates it when my dad does this. It tends to scare him which, I can understand, it scares me too. Thankfully he doesn't ask any questions because I wouldn't know how to answer them. I have no idea as to what causes my dad's episodes. My mother has never explained and every time I ask she ignores me or abruptly changes the subject.
I think about running to my room and taking Asher with me until they are finished, but end up going with the contrary. If something happens I want to be here to get help. My dad's episodes are always unpredictable and anything could go wrong. "It's okay Asher." I whisper into his ear. He doesn't reply but the tears continue to stream down his cheeks. I wipe them away gently with the back of my hand.
"Peeta are you okay?" My mother's voice is soft and merciful.
"I'm fine, thanks." he replies shakily then looks towards Asher and I. "Sorry." he says while making his way towards us. He gives us both a hug before picking up Asher, who clings to him like a small toddler.
My mother still looks a little unstable so I don't ask her any questions about the broadcasting when my dad leaves the room to put Asher to bed. She glances at me once and then walks over. I give her a questioning expression. "Soon." she mutters before kissing my forehead and starting off for bed. I later hear my parent's bedroom door shut.
I wait for my dad to return. Minutes pass and I am about to leave when I hear his footsteps on the stairs. "I'm sorry." He apologizes again while laying a comforting hand on my shoulder.
"It's okay, you couldn't help it." I say back, acting like it's no big deal which, it isn't, these things happen every now and then.
"Your right, I could not but, I am still sorry."
"For what?"
"For not providing you with any explanation." He catches my gaze. "I know that you question us Willow, and all we do is act like you never asked a thing and I am sorry for that. I promise, soon you will have answers." I look down at the floor.
"That's what mom said." My words are almost inaudible.
"It's true though." he reassures before pulling me into an embrace. He kisses the top of my head and together we walk to my room.
After I am tucked underneath the cool covers of my bed, I say good night to my dad. He is about to leave when he pauses. "Oh, and Willow?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you for comforting your brother." A grin makes its way onto my face.
"Your welcome." I reply.
"Good night, I love you."
"Love you too." I watch as he leaves the room. Right as the door closes my mind practically bursts with questions, confusion, and suspicion. Why in the world was my mother on the television? Were my parents famous at one point? Do they have something to do with the rebellion? I do a little math in my head. The rebellion was twenty-seven years ago and that subtracted from my parents' age now, would make them about seventeen around that time. A perfect age for the adolescents on the screen. The teenage version of my dad had been talking to the blue-haired guy about calling a cease fire, but to what, the rebellion? It all seems to fit. Obviously they did have something to do with such a vital time in Panem's history, though, what could that something be? I'll have to ask them in the morning. Wait though, whats the point? They will probably ignore me as usual. My dad said I would get an explanation soon but, apparently 'soon' isn't soon enough. I calm down for just a second and pinch the bridge of my nose, something my mother does when she's stressed. I can just feel a headache coming on. Great, I sound like one of those crazy workaholic people. I decide to clear my mind and at least attempt to get some rest. Right as my head makes contact with my soft, fluffy pillow, my eyes close and I almost immediately drift off into a deep sleep, or so I thought.