I'm super upper duper sorry! I know it's been a long wait and I won't bore you with excuses. Thank you to all that reviewed and PM'ed me, you guys are so awesome and I just love you all! OK I hope you like Gale's POV, and as always Enjoy :D
DISCLAIMER: I OWN ZIP/NADA/NOTHING
Chapter 5
She's screaming. Loud, terrified, tortured screams that sound like dying children and booming canons. She's on her knees with her hands on top of head and her fingers grabbing fistfuls of her golden hair. Her eyes are shut tight as the awful sound continues to come from her open mouth.
I'm frozen as I watch her, and my mind clouds as my eyes fervently search the area.
Where are they? Where are they waiting to attack us? What monster has the Capitol unleashed on us now, ready to tear our skin from our flesh?
I want to yell at her like I did before, when she frantically called my name only to tell me that the stream was dry. I will muscles to move, to go to her. I want to go to her, I want to scoop her up and race away with her, to take her back to the cave where she will be safe, where I can protect her. I want to go to her, but he does first.
The Mellark boy is unfazed as he kneels down beside her, stopping her screams by untangling her fingers from her hair.
"It's alright," he tells her, speaking more softly and gently than I ever thought anyone could. "Open your eyes, Madgie. Look at me. It's okay, it's okay now. Look at me."
Her eyes flutter open, looking up at him with the utmost trust.
"She was there," she says, her voice so broken and scared that it startles me. "I saw her."
"I know, I know you did. She's alright now, Madgie. She's in a better place. She's okay."
"She's okay." She repeats, staring up at him with wide eyes.
"You're okay." He says, cupping his hand on her cheek.
"I'm okay?" She asks, looking at him as if she's a child, waiting for his confirmation. He nods his head, giving her a tiny reassuring smile. "I'm okay. I-I'm okay," she says, eyes fluttering rapidly before they roll back and her body goes limp into Mellark's awaiting arms.
"Madge!" Rory cries out, running to her unconscious body.
"She's fine," Mellark tells him, picking her up into his arms bridal style as he gets to his feet.
It irks me to no end to see her like that, limp in his arms. She's too fragile, too delicate from him to be allowed to carry her. If he drops her, she could be seriously injured.
"Are you sure?" My brother asks the baker's son, looking at Madge with tears in his eyes.
"I'm certain of it," he says to Rory, smiling down at him. He looks up at us for a moment, his gaze lingering for just a moment before he turns away, carrying Madge off with him.
Before I know what I'm doing I take Posy off my shoulders, thrusting her towards Katniss. "Tell your mother to go Madge's house. And make sure they get home alright."
She nods her head once, situating Posy onto her hip as she takes hold of Vick's hand.
She looks past me for a second, focusing on Mellark's retreating figure before she turns away from me, heading quickly to her house in the Seam.
I follow Mellark back to the Victor's Village, mindful to keep a few feet of distance between us. It's not that I think he'll tell me off for following them -even if he did, it's not as if I would listen. It would just feel odd, walking next to him as he carries her. Even now as I walk behind them it feels strange. It feels wrong.
She ran past me yesterday, slamming right into me as she sprinted as if she was running for her life. She barely looked at me, just mumbled an apology before scampering off again. I didn't think anything of it before, but now I can't help but wonder if what happened yesterday and at the school right now are somehow related.
Mellark opens the door to Madge's house without much difficulty, leaving the door wide open as he walks into the house. I pause for a moment before following inside.
Just like the outside of the house, her house and mine are nearly identical in every aspect. The carpet, the brightly colored sofa, and the grand piano only are one of the few things that distinguish it from mine.
Mellark lays her down on the sofa, and it's only then that I notice how her body is not completely still, her whole body twitching and shaking slightly. The baker boy kneels down next to her, brushing her hair back off her face. His face is dangerously close to hers, his eyes studying her entire face with a look unfamiliar to me.
My hands clench into two balled up fists as I watch him loom over her. If he thinks he can try any funny business with her while she's unconscious he has another thing coming.
"Will you go get Haymitch?" he asks, his voice annoyingly polite as he continues to watch Madge. When I don't respond he looks up at me, his face hardening only slightly. "He knows what to do."
That drunk? What could he possibly know?
Madge lets out a low whimper, her brow scrunching up as her body continues to shake. Mellark rubs his hand up and down her arm, looking down at her once more with concern etched on his face.
His head snaps up, his eyes hardening as he realizes I have not moved an inch. "I will not ask you again, Gale. Go. Get. Haymitch."
My eyes widen, taken aback at the strength in his voice. I glower at him, but he holds his gaze steady, unwavering as he waits for me to comply. Another whimper comes out of Madge and Mellark averts his gaze back to her, murmuring things meant to comfort her.
I watch them for another second before I turn away, stalking out of the house.
I am by no way a man that likes to do as I am ordered to, and I hate to admit it… but the way that Mellark spoke to me was impressive. Not many would think talking like that to a Victor was a good idea. And even less would think talking to me like that. He is stronger then I gave him credit for. And if he sincerely believes that the old drunk can help Madge…then I guess I have no choice but to take his word for it.
I pound my fist on the closed door, "Haymitch! Open the door!"
I rap on the door once more, hitting louder this time. I raise my fist to knock again but Haymitch throws open the door, the smell of liquor and neglect filling my nostrils.
"What the hell are you knocking like that for?! What's the damn emergency that you had to pound on my door like you're some godforsaken Peaceke-"
"It's Madge," I cut him off, crossing my eyes at my old mentor.
He stares at me, unmoving for just a second before he's pushing me off his porch, running in the direction of her house.
I trail after him, surprised that he could move so fast at his age and with that much liquor in him. I walk in the door to see him and Mellark standing over Madge, the merchant explaining what happened to the town drunk.
"And when Prim started to walk away her sister called out to her again. She called her 'Little Duck'."
Haymitch curses under his breath muttering obscenities as he crouches down besides Madge. I look at the scene in front of me in confusion.
Little Duck? What does that have to do with anything? I replay the event in my mind as I try to understand what happened.
Madge handed Prim a cupcake. Katniss called her but Prim first hugged Madge and Mellark. Then Katniss called her again and that's when she started heading towards us. But she stopped to wave at them, and that's when Katniss told her to come on. She said 'Come on, Little Duck'.
I look down at Madge's slumped body, whimpers still coming from her mouth. She said she was there, that she saw her. And Mellark, he said she was okay that she was in a better place now.
Suddenly I'm bombarded with the image of a little smart, brave, raven-haired girl who swung through the trees. A little girl was my ally, who was Madge's ally. Who Madge nicknamed Little Bird.
So Prim's nickname reminded Madge of Rue? But why would she react like that? Why she fall to the ground screaming?
"What's wrong with her?" I ask aloud, looking at Haymitch.
The middle age mentor scowls at me, opening his mouth to respond but Mellark jumps in before he has the chance.
"There is nothing wrong with her," he says, surprising me once again as he stares me down. "She's been through a traumatic experience to say the least." Yes to say the very least. "They're flashbacks, memories, vivid ones. They're mostly of the tributes' deaths. Something that reminds her of the Games can send one of these episodes off."
"This has happened before?" I ask, looking accusingly at Haymitch.
He nods, "The first one was the day the cameras left. They were frequent the first week home, two to three times a day. But they've started to slow down since then. She hasn't had one in four days."
"And you never thought to inform me of this!?" I say through clenched teeth, glaring at my mentor.
Haymitch matches my glare with one of his own, "You were a little too busy ignoring her existence, if you recall."
My hands ball into fists again and I ready myself for the fight we should have had weeks ago when a small voice interrupts my thoughts.
"Peeta?" We all turn towards the girl on the couch, her eyes opening and closing slowly.
Mellark kneels down beside her, smiling with that annoying grin of his. "Hey there, Madgie. How you feeling?"
She shakes her head slowly, wincing at the movement. When she speaks, she sounds so quiet and disappointed. "It happened again, didn't it?"
Peeta nods slowly, his hand stroking her hair. Again. "Yeah, it happened again."
Madge stares at him for a moment before she collapses.
I lunge forward out of instinct, ready to catch her, but Mellark holds her secure in his arms. At first I thought that maybe she fainted again, but now I can hear her sobbing quietly. She wraps her arms tightly around Mellark's neck, as if he is her lifeline. He picks her completely off the couch before sitting down where she was just laying. She curls up in his lap, crying into his shirt as he rubs her back in circular motions.
"I saw her again, Peeta. Rue, getting hit with that sp-spear. One second it was Prim and she just… she just transformed into Rue. I could sworn-n it was h-her. I really thought it was her."
"Shh, I know, Madge. I know you did. It's okay."
"I thought I was better!" she cries out, burying her face into Mellark's shirt.
It's as I watch her cling to him that I'm reminded of all the cold terrifying nights where we never thought we'd make it out alive, when we'd cling to each other in the darkness of the cave, seaking refugee and comfort. I can't help but notice how relaxed she looks in Mellark's arms, and I suddenly miss the warmth of her body nestled against mine, her warm breathe tickling my neck as she sleeps.
"You are getting better," Haymitch says, kneeling down next to the couch, rubbing her arm in a paternal manner I didn't know he was capable of. "You're making so much progress, sweetheart."
"I'm crazy! I have flashbacks and nightmares and moments where I can barely breathe." She protests, her body begins to shake with her sobs.
I swallow thickly as I watch her tremble. I had no idea. No idea at all.
"So many victors go through that, Madge," Haymitch tell her, "hell all the victors go through it. Why do you think I sleep with a knife?"
I resist the urge to groan at Haymitch. I doubt telling her that it's likely she'll still be suffering two decades from now is helpful information.
"Not like this," she responds. "You think the victors in Two have a flashback just by opening the knife drawer? What about the victors in One or Five? What about you? What about Gale?"
I stiffen as she says my name, my whole body frozen as she lets out a laugh that sounds nothing like any of her laughs I've heard before. She sounds sarcastic, almost bitter.
"That'd be a hoot- as if anything fazes him. He walked in and out of that arena as the same man. Are you going to tell me that he wakes up at night screaming?"
Haymitch eyes me warily, as if he's wondering about making my presence known. I shake my head, glaring at him. He smirks at me before shaking his head and turning his attention back top Madge.
Our little exchange does not go unnoticed by Mellark, and he looks up at me as he says, "Madge, I'm sure that Gale Hawthorne has his own set of demons."
She doesn't respond, she just cries into Mellark's shirt as he continues to rub her back in circles. After a few minutes her sobs quiet down, and Mellark gently untangles her limbs from his, laying her down on the couch.
"She usually falls asleep after these things," he tells me, pulling a blanket out of a desk drawer and draping it over her. "It's exhausting for her."
He turns and goes into the kitchen, opening the pantry and taking out two bags of tea. "Chamomile, Haymitch?" he asks, filling the kettle up with water.
He shakes his head, sitting on one of the bar stools placed around the countertop. "I'm good. I like my drinks with a little more of a kick than what chamomile can offer."
Mellark smiles at the joke, placing the tea bags in the kettle before turning the stove on. "What about you, Gale? Chamomile tea?"
My eyes narrow at the merchant, and my voice coming out hard as stone when I say, "How exactly are you involved in this?"
But even I can detect something else in my voice, something other then just the coldness I'm trying to give off. Jealousy. He's never went through the Games. Not like I did. Not like Madge or even Haymitch did. He has no idea what we've been through and yet he think he can help her?
Mellark raises an eyebrow at me questioningly as he deadpans, "Well, Madge is actually the one that bought the teabags and the kettle, so I just fill the kettle up with water-"
I slam my fist down on the countertop, enjoying how the Townie's eyes widen for a split second. "You know damn well what I'm talking about!"
Haymitch grabs my arm, twisting me around to face him. He practically spits venom into my face. His mouth reeks of alcohol and some spittle lands on my face. "You have no right to ask those types of questions, boy. You've been ignoring her since the incident on the train."
"Oh, the incident when I found out that you lied to me?" I raise my voice, speaking sardonically. "She wasn't supposed to love me!"
It wasn't supposed to be real. Nothing real could emerge from something as superficial as the Games.
"Well, she does!" Mellark says matter of factly, still loud enough for me to take my attention away from Haymitch to glare at the baker's son.
He doesn't cower like I expect him to instead he seems unfazed as he prepares the tea.
"She loves you. And it doesn't matter if she wasn't supposed to or if it wasn't the plan. She loves you, and there is nothing she can do about it, so stop acting as if there is. Because believe me, Gale, if she could turn off her feelings, she would."
He stops what he's doing to look me in the eye, his gaze unwavering. "I'm her friend. One of the only she has. I've known her since before she had all her baby teeth. And I know she deserves better than this from you. You don't have to love her; she wouldn't want you to if it was forced. But you shouldn't treat her as she's still the Mayor's daughter and you're the Seam hunter. Things have changed, and I am greatly aware of that. Just like I'm aware that I will never ever know how it feels to be in either of your shoes. But whatever you're going through, you're making it worse by acting as if nothing happened."
The kettle begins to whistle, and he slowly pours the boiling tea into two ceramic cups. "She deserves better from you, Gale. And you know it."
He extends one of the cups out to me, and I take it from him before I can stop myself. I scowl at him even though his back is now turned and he can't see it. Before I can make a snarky remark on Mellark's speech, there is a knock on the door.
Mellark and Haymitch look at each other, clearly surprised to have a visitor. Mellark goes and answers the door, opening it slowly.
"Hello, Mrs. Everdeen." He says with a polite smile intact.
"Hello, Peeta, I heard Madge had a bit of an accident. Mind if I give her a check over?"
I walk back into the living room to see Mrs. Everdeen standing in the doorway.
But she's not the only visitor. Both Prim and Katniss stand behind, the younger girl bouncing anxiously on the balls of her feet while the Katniss looks down at her feet, her fingers pulling on the end of her braid.
Mellark continues to stand in the way of the Everdeens for a second longer before his smile returns, and he gestures for them to come in. Mrs. Everdeen tips her head at him, and Prim gives him a quick hug before following her mother inside. Katniss, however, stays put, her eyes still glued to the floor.
"Come on in, Katniss. No need to catch a cold standing on the porch," Mellark says.
I hold back a snort at his antics. The sun hasn't even begun to set yet. What a complete Townie, thinking he could go after two girls within the span of one hour.
Still ,she doesn't move until he turns away from her, walking back into the living room and leaving the door open for her. She walks quickly into the room then, closing the door behind her.
Her gaze locks with mine as I come into view.
I smile at her, but she doesn't return it, instead her gaze falls on Madge, still asleep on the couch.
"Do you have to wake her?" Mellark asks, looking at Mrs. Everdeen with concern.
"I'm afraid so," she says sympathetically. Mellark nods his head, stepping away so that Mrs. Everdeen can stand in front of Madge. She rubs her arm gently, "Madge? Madge? Madge dear, I need you to wake up."
Madge groans loudly, stretching her arms above her head, making her back crack. I'm immediately filled with half a dozen images of her waking like that, yawning and stretching like a cat.
Did she love me then? In the cave while we slept so close to each other, reveling in the warmth of each other to battle the bitter cold outside?
I'm snapped back to the present as Madge sleepily asks what's going on. Mrs. Everdeen explains to her that she heard about what happened at the school and is here to make sure everything is alright.
As the women talk ,I slip silently into the kitchen, resting on a bar stool pulled farther away from the living room so as no one can see me.
I should leave now, I know what happened to her and I know she's in good hands. But I can't. I can't bring myself to leave her alone, even if she is with all these people.
I close my eyes, resting my head in my hands as I listen to the soothing voice of Madge explaining to Mrs. Everdeen about the nightmares and the flashbacks. Every now and then Mellark will cut in with an annoying observation or suggestion. Can't he ever leave anything alone?
Katniss finds her way next into the kitchen as well, standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen. She never used to be awkward around me. But ever since I've returned from the Arena…things have changed between us.
The time ticks by slower than I thought it would, Katniss and I seeking refuge in the kitchen while the everyone else talks idly in the living room.
Finally I hear Mrs. Everdeen say, "Well, I think that you're just fine. I'm going to suggest you take some sleeping syrup before bed- just a little each night. It will allow you to get some very good rest and presumably will help keep the nightmares at bay. And getting a better nights rest will probably help with the flashbacks as well."
"Sleeping syrup?" Madge says, her voice laced with skepticism and worry. "Isn't that highly addictive? I mean my mother she- well you obviously know that she, um, she…"
Madge sighs in frustration and I can imagine her biting down on her bottom lip like she always does when she flustered. "You see, I have a family history with addiction to pain killers and medication."
"I know, but I truly doubt that that will happen to you. Sleeping syrup is addictive when it's misused, but taking a little every day before bed is perfectly fine. And once the nightmares have subsided for good, it will be fairly easy to stop taking it. Most patients I suggest it to have no complaints of withdrawals or anything of the sort."
I hear Madge sigh again before agreeing to taking the sleeping syrup every other day. "That way the likeliness of me becoming addictive to it is even less," she says in that stubborn tone of hers. I almost smile, remembering her obstinacy towards me that had always been entertaining when not infuriating.
Mrs. Everdeen complies and begins to say her goodbyes. Katniss looks over at me, and I know she wants to tell me something, but she instead quickly nods her head in a form of a goodbye. She steps back into the living room to join her family. I step into the doorway, partially hidden behind the refrigerator as I peer out.
Madge is still on the couch but now she is sitting in the upright position. Mellark is seated next to her and Haymitch stands by the door, saying his goodbye to Mrs. Everdeen. Mellark has his arm draped over Madge's shoulders, but both of them have their eyes locked on Katniss. From the surprise on Madge's face, I doubt she even knew she was here.
Katniss looks at the blondes for a moment, her gaze lingering too long on Mellark.
Of course, I know what went on during the Games between them. My buddy Thom made sure to fill me in on how Katniss had finally taken interest in a boy. Thom never thought me and Katniss would be good together.
"It'd be like dating your twin. You two are way too alike," he'd always tell me. But he approved of Katniss and Mellark, saying they "complimented each other nicely", whatever the hell that means.
But it was over between them before the train left the Capitol. I never asked Katniss about him, and she never brought him up. It's obvious he was into her far more then she was him, if she was at all. Which she wasn't. At all. Because, this is Katniss Everdeen, we're talking about here.
But that still doesn't explain why her gaze still lingers on his face before she makes a hasty retreat out the door, not saying a word to either of them. Prim is the last one to leave, giving Madge one last hug before she leaves, closing the door behind her.
Once all the Everdeens are gone, Madge slumps down into Peeta's side, her face etched with exhaustion. And pain.
"She didn't even say hello to me. She came into my house and didn't even bother to acknowledge me." She rubs her hand over her face, and I wince as I remember that not too long ago Madge considered Katniss a friend. But I guess all that's changed now. Everything's changed now. "Thank you, the both of you. And you know I don't mean to be rude but-"
"You want us out so that you can knock back on the couch." Haymitch finishes for her. "You got to give up that polite bullshit, sweetheart, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth."
She laughs and I revel in the fact that it sounds just like it always has. Like honey and summertime winds and the chiming of wind bells. At least that's back to normal.
"I'll have to keep that in mind," she says, getting slowly to her feet. She wobbles slightly, grasping onto Mellark for support.
"I hate this vertigo nonsense, it just makes everything that much more annoying," she grumbles to herself. Haymitch moves to help her, but she shoos his hand away. "I got it, just trying to get to my room. I need to get out of this dress."
"I'll help you," My blood boils at Mellark's words, and I quickly try to decide what the best way to kill him would be. What a pervert, trying to take advantage of her weak state to try to undress her!
He scoops her up into his arms yet again, and I feel my face turn hot as I watch her wrap her arms around his neck. He could certainly be useful for target practice. Too bad he's never stepped foot into the woods.
Mellark walks up the stairs with her, and she laughs at something he said that I could not hear.
Once they disappear up the stairs I stalk into the living room, growling at Haymitch. "How could you let him take her up there?"
He smirks at me, "I certainly wasn't about to help her put of that dress." A low snarl escapes from my mouth, and he laughs in my face, clearly amused. "He's just helping her up the stairs, her legs get all wobbly and dizzy after a flashback. And look, sure enough, here he comes now."
I turn to see Mellark descending the stairs, this time alone. "You know that was a very poor choice of wording," I tell him through my locked jaw, willing myself to calm down.
If he came down any later, I would've given in and gone up there just to punch the daylights out of him. It turns out he's not a pervert. Just an idiot Townie who decided to make my blood boil. That in itself should be enough of a reason to hit him.
He cocks his head to the side, looking at me with utter innocence and confusion, "What wording?"
The only response I dignify him with is an exasperated 'humph'. I turn to Haymitch, narrowing my eyes at him. "Next time this happens, you inform me."
It's not a request or a suggestion, but he simply shrugs his shoulders at me. I'll take that as compliance.
I glance up the stairs once before I remember I wanted to ask Mellark something. "Hey, were you with her yesterday afternoon?"
He stiffens at my question and I study his face as he nods once, "Yes, I was. Why?"
"She ran past me yesterday. Bumped right into me and then took off again unfazed. Was it a flashback?"
Mellark shakes his head, his eyes hardening as he stands up straighter. "No, she just saw something she didn't want to see."
Before I can ask what exactly she saw to make her take off like a bat out of hell, Mellark heads back into the kitchen, saying something about making a sandwich.
Haymitch follows him into the kitchen. I think about staying just awhile longer to get a real answer out of Mellark, but I don't want to press my luck on Madge not knowing I'm here so I slip out the front door, making sure I don't slam it when I close it.
I cut across Madge's front lawn to reach my front door, wiping the dirt off my feet on the mat outside. In the Seam, we never wiped the dirt off our shoes, and, if we did, we just stomped around the porch for a minute. We didn't have frivolous mats whose only purpose was to insure that a limited amount of dirt got tracked into the house.
The second I open the door, my little siblings rush as usual. But instead of begging me to throw them up in the air or to spin them around, they only have one thing on their minds. Madge.
"Is she okay? What happened to her?" Rory asks frantically.
"Did she hurt herself? Is that why she was screaming?" Vick inquires.
"Gaaaaale, did the pretty girl die?" Posy asks, shaking my arm with as much force as she can muster. Which truthfully isn't much.
"No, she didn't die, no, she didn't hurt herself, and yes, she's fine," I tell them, shaking them off me as I walk upstairs to my room. The master bedroom that my mother insisted I have, that is nearly the size of our entire old house.
I kick my boots off, before I slump down in my bed, the bed that is far too soft to be comfortable, but at least I can lay on it without my feet hanging off the mattress.
There's a small knock on my door, and I groan, rolling onto my stomach. "Go away, Rory."
"It's not Rory," my mother says, opening and closing the door behind her.
I sigh loudly, sitting up. "What is it, Ma?"
My mother has never been a woman to beat around the bush, something I inherited from her. So it doesn't take me by the least bit of surprise when she says very straight forwardly, "I think it's wrong how you've been treating that poor girl."
I suppress another groan, rubbing the heel of my hand against my eye tiredly. "Aw come on, Ma-"
"I'm not finished, Gale. You and I both know that I made a point not to get involved in your personal business, but this has gone too far. I don't know what went on in that arena, but what I do know is that there is a girl right next door who is hurting. She's a good girl, Gale, and she's in pain. Now, I'm not saying to go and profess your love for her just to make her feel better. But what I am saying is that you two went through a very traumatic experience together. You have a shared history that no one, not even Katniss, can understand."
I open my mouth, ready to object but she holds her hand out, forcing me to pause. "Now, you know I love Katniss, and I am not saying that what you two share is inferior to what you have with Madge. Or vice versa. All I am saying is that you need to stop acting like that child's ruining your life. Because without her, you wouldn't be here with us today. She needs a friend Gale. She needs an ally. And so do you."
My mother pauses before she gently kisses the top of my head like she used to do when I was young. "Dinner will be ready in an hour," she says, turning and leaving my room.
I put my head in my hands for the second time in one day. I know my mom's right, hell she always is. Even that Townie Mellark is right. It's easier to blame her, to put this whole mess on her.
"If she hadn't picked those berries," I mummer aloud to my empty room, "if she hadn't opened her hand…" You'd be dead, a small and annoyingly accurate voice tells me.
The Capitol would have sent in mutts to choose the victor. And it would have been her; they would have chosen the beautiful and charming Mayor's daughter. And even if they didn't choose her, if I had been the one that survived, I don't think I could have gone through that, seeing her mutilated and killed before my very eyes. The mere idea of it makes me want to throw and break things.
It's not right, the way I've been acting. As if I'm still some Seam rat and she's the untouchable princess of the District. It's wrong but what other choice do I have? I don't want to linger on the Games, I want to move on, to forget all about them, to act as if they never existed and have my old life back. But I can't have both. I can't go back to how things were and still be with her, still have her in my life.
It wasn't supposed to be real. She wasn't supposed to really love me. How could she? We barely knew each other. We were strangers. And she knew Katniss, they were friends. She must have seen us together, must have been under the same impression the entire District was under. Me and Madge, we didn't know each other, we still don't know each other. Not really at least. Not in the way you know someone you're in love with. There are still so many things that I don't know about her, that I can't comprehend.
But me and Katniss, we know each other. We know everything about each other. We would work, the two of us. We're fighters, hunters, brave and fearless. We could survive. It would just, make sense. It's what I always thought, but now things are different. There are moments like the one in the kitchen of awkward silence that was never there before. It's not as easy, as simple as it was.
I know it's partially because of what happened between me and Madge during the Games, and while I know she was not the only one partaking in the kissing and caresses, it's still easier to place my frustration onto her. She's the only thing propelling me forward, the only thing that when I look at, forces me to remember, forces me to live with the things I've done.I don't want to move forward, I don't want to continue on the path that's now laid out for me. I want to stay in the past, forget about and avoid the burdens that come with surviving the Games.
But whenever I picture a future now, the future I always pictured, with Katniss and me married and raising our children in a tiny house in the Seam just like we grew up, it doesn't make sense like it used to. It feels wrong and tainted and whenever I try to picture Katniss as my wife, a certain golden hared girl pops into my mind, her warm and gentle blue eyes watching me.
I feel those eyes on me, judging me, seeing me for what I truly am, a lesser person than who she's always envisioned. I see her tear stained face. I hear her sobs as I bang on the door, begging her to let me in after I told her that it was not real.
It's guilt. I know that rationally. It's not real feelings, not really, it's just me feeling guilty because we went through hell together and then I went and caused her pain. Which I didn't mean to do. Did I?
A part of me had been so surprised at her acting skills. She had even fooled me in some moments, moments where I thought maybe the façade was true. There were seconds were her face would light up when I walked into the cave, just like my mother's always used to when my father came home. But I never believed that she loved me. I never thought Haymitch would lie.
An hour comes and goes and I'm stilling laying down in my bed. I would have never thought about skipping a meal when food was so scarce. Even now there's a pang in my chest as I hear my family eating dinner downstairs. But I can't face them right now, can't go through another round of questioning about Madge. Besides, any leftovers will surely be saved for tomorrow.
The sound of music fills my room, and I smile as I get up from my bed, opening my window the rest of the way. It's the window that faces her house and with it now wide open, I can hear each note clearly.
She plays different songs every night, sometimes she even plays all night long. She's a beautiful player, at least as far as I'm concerned though I'm far from an expert.
It's not as easy as my mother claims, just to waltz over there and become her friend. We were never friends before, why would we be friends now?
I wrote off being her friend on the train, when we first pulled into the station and I squeezed her hand. It was our thing, our little message to one another that whatever happens, it'll be okay. But she didn't squeeze back, instead her whole face turned bright red like it does when she's angry.
And I knew right then that we couldn't be friends. How can I be friends with her if she hates me? If the mere act of my squeezing her hand infuriates her? Maybe hate is the wrong word… I doubt Madge can hate anyone. But she certainly doesn't want me around.
No, it's better this way, with us going about our separate lives like we always have before. It's better like this, for everyone.
I lay back down in my bed, dreading the moment when my eyes close and I drift off into sleep. Madge is wrong about that; I wake up screaming just as many times as she does.
The song she was playing ends, and the notes hang in the night air. I can picture her, scrambling around and searching for something to play amidst the sheet music scattered all over the place. But when the music begins again it's not what I expected. It takes me only the first few notes to place the tune, to figure out why it make my blood run cold and my heart stop beating. It's Rue's song.
I close my eyes as I hear Madge's clear voice sing to the dying girl.
There is a castle on a cloud. I like to go there in my sleep. There no one ever weeps. Not in my castle on a cloud.
Images of spears and blood and wildflowers dance across my mind, and I lunge out of bed, slamming the window shut.
I was never a fan of piano music anyway.
Okay what do you think? Now that you can see alittle of what is going inside that beautiful head of his does it all make a tad bit more sense? I know allot of people have been hating Gale, which is good he has been a jerk face, but I hope this cleared it up that he's not completely heartless and uncaring towards her. So please review, next chapter goes back to being in Madge's POV. I have four finals coming up next week but I promise I will update way more regularly once my schedule even out again. REVIEW PLEASE! Kisses from Peeta/Haymitch/Gale since now that you might not hate him as much anymore ;)