"Run!" I screamed. The walls shook and vibrated; the ground buzzed beneath my feet. It felt like what I had always imagined the inside of a tracker jacker nest would be. Everything around me felt alive, and angry. Definitely angry.
"Run!" I screamed again. He was so close; he had to hear me. And yet, he felt so far away. Just out of reach. Always out of reach. I extended my arms toward him, trying in vain to bridge the gap between us. But my short arms weren't enough. They were never enough. And as I extended them toward him, the distance between us seemed to stretch, growing infinitely longer.
Just when I thought I could stretch out and touch him, just when I finally felt hope, the ground beneath me crumbled and collapsed. Fire erupted around me, engulfing everything in sight and consuming him as I dropped into darkness. The world felt bleak, hopeless, empty. I continued to scream but the thick, black dust of the coal began to fill my lungs. With every inhale of air to refill my lungs, I began to choke. My screams turned into coughing fits, and I felt through the darkness while gasping for air.
I landed on the ground with a thud. My mother and Prim stood beside me, Prim's face tucked into the security of my mother's skirts. My mother cried silently, but I tried again to scream. I could no longer see him as we waited for the elevator to reach this end of the shaft. I could still feel the heat on my skin. I already knew it was too late. But still, I reached out and called for him. Begged for him.
I awoke from the dream with a start, shooting up straight in bed and screaming the same, single syllable word. As I came to my senses, I settled back against the sweat soaked pillows. I felt the dampness of my hair at the nape of my neck. I turned automatically to Peeta for comfort, only to find the opposite side of the bed already vacated in the early morning rays.
Sinking back into the mattress, I forced myself to settle down. It had been a long while since I'd dreamt of my father. My nightmares usually featured more recent trials. Perhaps I had fallen asleep staring at the old family portrait on the nightstand again. I couldn't remember.
Even as time passed, the dream felt just as real. And I felt just as helpless to save him. To save any of them, no matter which nightmare I had.
I knew without checking the calendar, a somewhat ironic gift from Haymitch since none of us ever had anything to do on a schedule these days, that it was my weekly check in day with the doctor. I thought about trying to catch a few more minutes of sleep, but the thought quickly passed. Without Peeta's presence, I doubted I would be able to fall back asleep, and I knew the nightmares would strike again even if I did. So I resigned myself to the day, and my father remained in the back of my mind, especially as I prepared for the day's hunt.