I hadn't eaten in several days. I couldn't. Not with my mind in such a state of disarray. My ribs began to protrude and my weight steadily dropped over the course of those days. The will to fight and continue on gradually started to decline as my mind was in a desultory state. I had not left my room since my talk with Finnick and worry began to spread through the facility. The time of day and date were lost and began to be meaningless to me, as only one thing repeated in my head.
I can't lose him.
A dull knock at the door broke me out of the inner turmoils of my thoughts.
"Leave me alone!" I hollered through dry, chapped lips.
Haymitchs' voice rang out softly from the other side of the door. "It's me sweetheart. Please let me in."
"How's Peeta?" I rebutted.
"He's still under and being monitored thoroughly."
If there was no new news, then there was no reason for him to be here.
I relaxed my body back onto the lumpy mattress and covered my head with the old blanket that occupied me on the bed. "Come back when he comes too."
"That's what we need to discuss."
At the hearing of those words, my body jolted up. I swung the blanket off briskly and began to make my way to my feet. "What do you mean?" I asked as the pounding of my heart grew more intense.
"Just let me in please," Haymitch says, beginning to finger-tap on the door.
I struggle to the door, as the numerous days without food or water have drastically taken their toll on my body. Pulling the door open, Haymitchs' eyes immediately meet mine and he lets off that signature half-smile. He opens his arms for a hug but with a shake of my head, he frowns and lowers them.
"May I?" He asks, as I was unaware that I had been blocking the entrance to the room.
"Depends," I reply. "Are you all going to continue to lie to me?"
"No. No more lying. This time you get nothing but the truth from me."
I sniffed the air for the usual miasma of stale alcohol that would emerge from his breath, hanging around him like marsh gas. Instead, I was met by the bitter stench of coffee. At that, I knew one thing.
He was serious.
I took a step back and swung my arm in a welcoming gesture, granting him entry.
"Thank you," he says as he slides in, surveying the room with a single raised eyebrow. "When was the last time you've eaten?" His eyes fixate on the mess of various, untouched plates of food that litter the floor.
I ignored his comment and folded my arms. "You came to talk, so talk."
He sits on one edge of the bed and gestures for me to sit next to him. I oblige and sit on the other end, my back to the entrance of the room.
"Everyone has woken up," Haymitch begins.
A flicker of hope fills my body like a warm ember. My eyes widen and I begin to make my way to the door, a new sense of vitality entering me at the thought of seeing Peeta awake and safe. Haymitch, seeing my advance, quickly gets up from the bed and blocks it with his body.
"Everyone except Peeta," he says.
"What do you mean?" I replied. "How can everyone wake up before Peeta!" My hands began to tremble as the tears developing in my eyes made my vision blurry.
Haymitch motions me to the edge of the bed once more, noticing my quivering. "Please sweetheart, sit down."
"No!" I exclaim. "Explain now!"
Haymitch signs and runs his fingers through his greasy, blonde hair.
"I will," he starts. "But I need you to sit." There's a little more force in his voice this time, possibly due to his growing frustration. Whether it be from my actions, or from Peeta's situation was unknown to me however. Haymitch remains at the door as I slowly make my way back to my bedside. I take a seat and he sighs once more.
"Finnick told me about you guys little talk," he says. "So I know that you know more than you're putting out."
"And?" I replied back.
"Good point," he says with a slight chuckle.
"So they've managed to rid everyone of the tracker-jacker concoction that ran through their blood. Everyone, that is, except for Peeta. He's been given over 3 times the amount of everyone else, so the medical team is struggling with his case to say the least."
My mind immediately went to worst case scenario mode. "Is he going to die?"
He turns his eyes away from mine, and my throat tightens slightly.
"Is he going to die Haymitch!" I yell, tears now falling freely.
"We don't know!" he answers back, his voice booming loudly. "No one does."
I bit my tongue, expecting him to say more, but only quiet overtook the room. The truth had finally been spilled. And I couldn't bear it any further. With two simple words, I broke the silence.
"Get out."
"I know this isn't what you might have wanted Katniss, but after you took that arrow to the sky during the Games, you filled people with something that they have not had or felt in years. Hope. That's why we grabbed you when given the opportunity. We knew you were our MockingJay. We knew you would be the one to lead us through these dark times and help bring down the Capitol."
My blood begins to boil at the reminder that I was saved that day and Peeta was taken.
"This could've all been avoided if you grabbed him you know!" I shouted.
"If given the choice to save you or him," Haymitch starts. "I'd pick you every time. You have a purpose Katniss!"
"And Peeta doesn't?!" Anger was fueling my body now and I felt it pulsing through my body.
"That's not what I'm saying! None of us want him to pass. But god forbid he does, we need to know that you will still be our Mockingjay."
"Screw your Mockingjay!" I explode and grab a tray of day-old food from the floor, hurling it at Haymitch. He ducks it effortlessly and continues.
"The Capitol is the true enemy! They're the ones that did this to Peeta! All this fire and anger should be pointed at them! They must be stopped once and for all! And we finally have what's necessary to do it!"
I pick up another tray and heave it in his direction. He calmly bats it away, spraying food across the walls behind him.
"You will be our Mockingjay Katniss. Regardless of Peeta's outcome!" he yells and points a finger forward at me. He began to advance toward me, his face twisted in rage. Grabbing another tray off the ground, I hurl it at him with so much force my arm goes numb. He couldn't react fast enough to this one and the metallic tray strikes him in the temple, sending a loud clink throughout the room. Through my angry haze, I could see Haymitch clutching his head where the tray made contact. Blood began to seep through his fingers as his face grimaced in pain. Upon seeing this, all the anger disappeared and was instead overtaken by guilt.
"I'm sorry," I said before my brain could register anything else. I hurt one of the only people holding me together.
With a loud grunt, Haymitch turns and begins to let himself out.
"Please Haymitch, I'm sorry," I pleaded as I tried to catch up behind him, but all the adrenaline in my body had been exhausted, so my weak body wouldn't allow me to run. I collapsed onto my hands and knees and began sobbing loudly. His footsteps suddenly stop and I look up to see his signature smirk.
"I've said it once and I'll say it again sweetheart. Remember who the real enemy is."
And with that, he turns away and continues on walking, his footsteps trailing off into the distance.
The wave of guilt in me began to make me feel nauseous. Using my remaining strength, I get to my feet and sluggishly make my way to my bed. Leaping into it, I began to weep uncontrollably as the thought of losing Peeta dawned on me.
There is no rebellion without me, but there is no me without him.