CHAPTER FOURTEEN
My mother quickly locks an arrow into her bowstring and points in towards the owner of the voice. I do the same, but stay low. I turn my head and almost gasp in recognition. It's the man from the woods a while back.
He turns up his palms. "I mean no harm Katniss." he says, using that kind voice he used on me.
"What are you doing here Gale?" asks my mother. I forgot that she knew him.
"May I ask the same about you?"
"No." she retorts. Her hand gradually appears behind her back, forming a signal for me to stay down. I do as told. Apparently it's better for him to be unaware of my presence. "Why are you here?" she repeats.
Gale smirks. "I decided to take a break from two."
"Sure." I mutter under my breath.
My mother doesn't find it amusing. "And?" she asks clearly not satisfied.
"And what Catnip? Can I not visit my home district? I do have family here after all." I suddenly thick of Hazel and her dad.
She's quiet for a second before saying, "Don't call me that."
Gale just simply sighs. "Who's the girl?" I slowly rise. He recognizes me as soon as he lays eyes upon my face. "Oh, it's the kid who fell out of the tree. What are you doing here?" He stares at us questioningly.
I am about to respond, when his eyes widen. Gee, something must have clicked! "She's your..." he trails off hesitantly.
"Yes Gale, my daughter." The tension in the air is almost as thick as the silence.
"But the eyes... Oh. Bread Boy." My mother nods. I completely despise how they talk about me as if I am not even here. "Name?"
"Willow." she replies. Again, I could have answered that.
"I thought you never wanted kids." speaks Gale, slight venom dripping from his words.
This particular statement captures my attention. Did she really? I listen intently for the words to follow.
But they never come. My mother remains wordless. Whether it's for my sake or for her own, is unknown.
"Well, it looks like you have a lot of explaining to do, so why don't you sit down?" he suggests, gesturing to the area surrounding him.
I can almost feel the anger radiate off of her skin. As expected, she refuses. "I have absolutely no explaining to do! Your the one who needs to talk! I mean, come on Gale. You disappear in District Two for, what? Twenty-seven years, and then decide to just randomly show up without any given notice!" She is yelling now. I can just sense the game rapidly scuttling away from the cacophony within a 2-mile radius.
"I'm the one who hasn't been in contact? You are the one who has not said a word. And why? Because you automatically accused me of killing Prim!" He shouts back. "Seriously, Katniss. I come back only to find you having kids with a guy you were forced to love." Forced to love? What? " And Prim's death was indirect! We didn't even know if it was our bombs. Even if it was, I wouldn't have suggested it if I had known it would have killed her!"
My now enraged mother practically ignores the last part. "It's not an accusation Gale, it's a fact!" She grasps my unoccupied hand as if about to leave but Gale stops her.
"Listen, Katniss," his voice turns surprisingly calm for someone who is so irascible. "I didn't come here to argue." He seems genuinely sincere, like what he has to say is important. I almost want to stop and listen.
"Neither did I. Goodbye Gale." She begins to walk away, her hand still grabbing mine.
So many questions are buzzing inside my head. I never thought that my aunt's death was caused by Gale, nor was I informed of my mother's negative desire for children.
We are halfway through the woods when my mother's grip loosens; and I am thankful for it too – my fingers were beginning to lose circulation. "I am sorry Willow." she apologizes, ending her excessive inaudible mutters.
"It's okay." I reply apathetically.
She is quick to protest. "No it's not." I never really know how to respond to sentences like these, so I stay quiet.
When we reach the meadow, I notice the sun lies straight above our heads – signifying noon. The air is increasingly warmer, and all the dew that was previously there, is long gone. There are no clouds in the sky – a perfect day in my eyes. I only wish I could stay here longer, but my dad is probably waiting.
My feet are throbbing by the time we reach our house in Victor's Village. As we enter, I take note of the unusual normality to everyone... and trust me, my family is far from normal.
I don't bother locking my bow up just yet, for, all I want to do right now is sit down. Of course my actions will be frowned upon, even though Asher has long grown out of his 'ooh that looks interesting so I am going to chew on it' stage.
After taking a seat on the suddenly comfortable couch cushions, I decide to try and get some answers out of the kid. I sneak up on him,. "So, do you have an explanation for all this abnormal/normal behavior?" At first, Asher tries to disregard me by continuing to fiddle with his dough, but I stare at him – eyes boring intently into his back – waiting for a reply.
"I'm not suppose to tell you." He almost mumbles.
I laugh. "Oh really, and why not?" He scowls at my further attempt. I admit, he looks quite a bit like my mother right now. "Fine," I mutter. "You win." Asher presents me with his best victory smile before return to his work.
A while later, I hear his voice. "Happy birthday." Asher places a cylindrical blob of dough into my hands. It sort of looks like the cake I ordered for Everest and Leah.
"Thanks!" I say with a grin while taking it. He just beams.
"Willow! Asher!" we hear from the kitchen. I gently set my dough cake on the wooden side table before trailing behind the now running Asher. I eventually catch up to him and we simultaneously burst through the doorway.
I gasp at the site in front of me. There, sitting on the kitchen table is the most gorgeous cake that I have ever laid eyes on. It is a rich cream color with eccentric frosted willow branches patterned along the sides. On the rim of each layer (thankfully there is only two) is a string of delicate, soft green flowers. I wordlessly walk over to where it sits and gently trace my finger over its beautiful design. A bit of frosting finds its way on to my index finger in the making. I glance over in my dad's direction. He just nods, knowing exactly what I am about to ask. A grin breaks out across my face and I quickly pop my finger into my mouth. The icing is vanilla heaven. My mouth begins to water, and it takes all my willpower not to dig into the cake's contents.
"Can we have some?" asks Asher, practically reading my mind. My dad laughs, already walking over with a cutting knife.
I wince as the blade comes in contact with the cake. It almost feels illegal to damage such a pretty thing.
My dad cuts seven slices, one for each of us (Annie and Everest included) and one left over. I am about to ask him why the extra piece, when Haymitch suddenly comes barging in – answering my question. "You didn't really think I would miss your daughter's birthday, did you sweetheart?" he asks my mother. Well, at least he is somewhat sober.
"We could only hope – " she begins to mumble but my father interrupts her.
"Of course not Haymitch." My mother's eyes widen at him as if the say, "So it was you who invited the drunkard!" I try my hardest to muffle my giggles.
My dad passes a slice of cake out to everybody. We begin to eat, everyone complementing him on how delicious the cake is. Annie even claims it tastes better than her and Finnick's wedding cake – something I never though t I would hear come out of her mouth, since memories can be so painful.
My dad turns toward me. "Happy birth – " He is cut off by the same shrill beeping from last night.
My parents dash into the other room, with Annie, Everest, Asher and I trailing shortly behind. Haymitch believes that it is just something stupid, so he remains in his seat around the kitchen table.
The same reporter appears in the once black image. "Citizens of Panem," she begins. "I bring with me breaking news – at exactly 4:17 this morning, we received an anonymous tip stating that there have been some suspicious activity on the outskirts of District 2. Went in some investigators and sure enough, they uncovered President Lacey Paylor's deceased body. It is suspected that her cause of death was loss of air to the lungs. An autopsy report should be in soon, but stay turned for the emergency reelection results." And with that last comment, the image fades to black.
I stare at the television wide-eyed and open mouthed. What does she mean 'loss of air to the lungs'? Then, like plunging deep into the lake, reality washes over me... she was strangled.
A few silent minutes later, the screen lights up again. I hear the anthem play and through all the shock, make out the image of the country's seal.
The music finishes and the image changes to that of in The Capitol. The camera zooms in one a woman in her early thirties. She has blonde hair and green snake-like eyes. Something about her just makes my skin crawl.
The woman is standing on a podium, trying to calm down the rambunctious crowd. She attempts at introducing herself. "Hello people of Panem," The crowd screams and only then do I seem to notice that not all the screams are that of excitement and zeal, some are of entire disagreement. "My name is Calina Snow."Snow. Where have I heard that name before? "And I am your new president."