A/N: Every time I watch the films, new heartbreaking ideas come to me :( This started out as a poem (see Ch 2) and like all great things, I decided that I would yet again get inside Katniss's head and expand it. Written in 2020 and finally ready to publish x) It's been a long while since I've read any fandom stories here so as usual, if this looks familiar, I am sorry!
Warning: mentions of blood, gore, and Prim's death
Also, I was a little wishy-washy with the present and past tense :/ I tried to clean it up as best I could (what I felt would fit the story best), but fair warning that they do change and proceed with caution if that's a pet peeve of yours :(
I was falling and I couldn't catch myself. I couldn't stop myself from striking the surface. I couldn't hear, not really - things were fuzzy. I felt submerged like my head was underwater, a terrible pressure on my chest. It was a weight much heavier than water…
Guilt.
My eyes open-
Prim.
"Primrose Everdeen," Effie Trinket announced to District 12.
The face of a frightened girl-
-another person who deserved so much more than what fate had granted… than what I gave her.
"Tuck in your tail, little duck."
Her soft smile, her eyes holding the fear of what was to be that day- the reaping. My words grounding her, assuring her that the odds were in her favor, that there was no way her name was to be called-
You promise, Katniss?
I promise - I said before the day and our life went to hell. I had promised. And I had failed. The terrified look in her eyes still haunts me- the day I parted from her for the 74th Hunger Games. I vowed to return, and I did.
That was the only promise I was able to keep.
The weight on my chest grew and I threw back the covers. Blindly - as if I had forgotten the layout of the house I had lived in for the past ten years - I stumbled through. Knocking into the wall and chairs and a table, reminding myself of Haymitch in the years before the first Games. But I couldn't spend another second in a dark room, unlike him, I needed the air. The open air. A place where I can finally rip this weight from my chest.
I manage to pry or yank the door open. Things are fuzzy around me- Then I hear the birds chirping and I can feel myself begin to calm. I feel the cool breeze of autumn on my skin. The acid smell of the remnants of the city still linger in the air - not as potent but still there. In a cruel way, it is home. I stumble down the steps. I don't pay any heed to the gravel digging into the soles of my bare feet. I stagger down the lane - an end in sight.
Without permission, my mind wanders - the unconscious pain from the rocks beneath my feet pulling me deeper into my waking nightmare-
Rue.
A sob tears from my throat and my legs give out. I fall to the ground, the gravel stinging my palms. I know my hands are bloodied but I can't find it in me to retreat to the house. I clench my hand, digging a few shards further into my skin. I have to get rid of these images- I cannot go back into darkness with the image of-
Rue dying. The wake I gave her. Them taking her away.
Seeing footage of the uprising- the unrest, the revolution.
All it took was a spark…
I shut my eyes tightly and shake my head - desperate to find a way out of the memories that haunt me. My chest tightens - I couldn't save Rue. The one good and pure being in the Games. And I held her as she took her last breath, unafraid to leave this world, forgiving as I had been the one to cause her death. It seemed she knew the sacrifice of the Game better than I.
Sacrifice.
I shakily rise to my feet, carelessly brushing my palms on my shorts. I wince as the gravel dislodges from my skin, but the pain isn't enough to tear me from my reverie. I keep stumbling down the lane. I try to get that word out of my head for I will be damned again if I relive what I did.
Sacrifice.
I scratch at my chest, trying to peel away the guilted weight. My throat feels like it's closing and I gasp for air. I stagger and then fall to the grass, writhing as I am under the mercy of the nightmare.
I wanted her to live on- I wanted her to be the better Everdeen. To be the one who lives a long and fulfilling life, leaving her broken sister behind. Her broken sister who, by God, should have never been saved. So many people before her should have lived-
Rue, Finnick, Peeta… oh, so Peeta.
But Prim - she grew to be so hardened and strong as I returned weakened and frail from the Games. She held power and I could only watch. She was not destined to grow damaged and dark like me. No, she grew to be a warrior and a savior and-
Fire.
"N-n-o-o-o," I cried, clawing at my throat. "No! Prim! Prim, run! Run!" I shut my eyes and saw the diverging flames and my ears rattled with the deafening boom. I manage onto my stomach and wretch out what little bile exists in my empty belly. Then I collapse onto my side and weakly pull at the weeds. "Prim…" I cried weakly. "Run."
I wanted her to rise above- I wanted her to survive the destruction the Capitol caused… but I was naive. And because I was so blind, I-
My eyes open and I see the red-orange sky. Fear jolts me and I scramble backwards until my back struck a tree. The breath knocked from my lungs.
I heard her scream-
Katniss!
It wasn't fair! My hands fist in my hair. I had fought the evil in this world for the life of my sister! And how did I repay her?
Yet, some days, I still close my eyes and I can feel her brush away the hair from my face. I can see her smile. I can see her forgiveness-
To forgive you would mean you are at fault, she spoke softly. And you are not, Katniss. You are not.
Tears spill from my eyes and down my cheeks. A broken and agonized sound is yanked from my throat and I curl in on myself, holding my arms. I scream as loud as I can, as loud as the pain feels in my skull, in my soul.
I thought we promised not to lie to each other.
I feel my body twitch at the sound of the scaly voice. The guilted weight has returned, this time as a wrenching feeling in my gut.
Katniss, I hear her voice. It is faint like she is walking away.
I reach towards the last sound. I open my eyes and I see her. Standing in the garden, in that dress- the one she always admired when I wore it. The one Mom had worn long ago. I don't know how I manage, but I am there.
"Prim," I whisper. I can feel my throat is raw. I don't think I could speak normally if I tried. "Prim."
She smiles and frames my face with her hands. Her eyes are meaningful and grateful… and sad. Katniss, she whispers.
I let out a shaky breath and blink away the tears that pool in my eyes. "I'm sorry," I manage. "You deserved the world, and- and I could not give you it. I could not save you-" I swallow back the bile I feel rise in my throat again as I unconsciously remember that fateful day again. "Prim-"
But she smiles.
I feel my breath taken from me - a good feeling, hollow, but good.
I'm safe, Katniss, she says. Her hands brush my hair away again. I'm safe.
I close my eyes and struggle to hear her words. I lick my dry and cracked lips. "Prim…"
Safe, she repeated, also keen to sear it into my brain. Just like you promised.
Like I promised.
I promised.
Prim.
I opened my eyes in time to see her smile, her image fade into the morning breeze. My chest heaves and my shoulders begin to shake. I curl my fingers into something soft and moist. But I cannot bring myself to care...
I flinch when a stranger's warm hands cover mine. Then I blink and realize it's Peeta, kneeling in front of me, tugging my hands out of the soil… out of the bed of primroses. The sight of him - the recognition of him brings a new cry from my throat. I let go of the flower remnants and grip him tightly.
He lets me climb my way from his forearms to his shoulders. He catches me when I feel my strength give out just before my words.
"I promised Prim. I promised everything would be okay. I promised her," I cried, clinging onto his clothes. "And now she's- she's-"
He didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything. What was there to say after all this time? He just held me closer and tighter.
A/N: Thank you for reading! If you're interested in reading the poem, check out Chapter 2!