I hope you're liking the story so far! I want to thank everyone who chose to follow this story and specially to stjohn27 and Yuste who reviewed it!
I'm thinking of doing the next two chapters in Katniss' point of view!
Enjoy this next chapter! Catarina :)
"Dad, Where's mother?"
My question triggers a wave of nerves that affects all three of my family members and apparently disables their speaking abilities.
"What is it?" I ask after 5 minutes of total silence.
"Nothing son, she just… She stayed behind to clean the shop" I know he's lying, mother never cleans the shop, she has us doing it for her while she bosses us around. Something's wrong, I thought she would love to be here, amongst the district's elite… Something terrible must have happened to prevent her from being here.
I'm about to force the truth out of dad when Effie interrupts us. My father's tense posture immediately relaxes as he realizes he managed to dodge my questions.
"Hello, hello, you must be Peeta's brothers and father, so nice to make your acquaintance" She stops only to breathe and then unloads the rest.
"I'm sorry to cut your time short, but Peeta!" She turns to me "It's time to get you installed in your new home" Turning back to my family she adds "You are welcome to accompany us, if you'd like"
I can see my brothers are dying to see the house, Rhys will probably stay in the house he now shares with his wife, although there will be plenty of room for them there. But I expect my other brother and parents to come live with me. It will be a longer commute to the bakery than we all are accustomed, but we will have better conditions.
A car leads us, Effie and Haymitch to the victor's village. There, Haymitch says goodbye and retreats to his house. The 5 meters that separate the car door from the front of the house are overly documented by the dozen photographers and video cameras present. They film Effie giving me the key and me opening the door.
The inside is fully decorated and free of reporters. Effie guides us from what she calls the entrance hall to the living room, which is decorated with two sofas, a fireplace and a huge TV.
At home, at the bakery, we only have one TV and that's because it's mandatory. It seats on a small coffee table in the living room. In this house, nothing is small, every room we see is bigger or the same size as my house. There're even rooms I wouldn't dream existed in people's homes. There's a dining room, which is reserved for eating – in our home we just eat in the kitchen.
Oh, the kitchen is huge, far bigger then the bakery's one and also has a table and chairs reserved for "quick and simple meals" as Effie puts it, I don't have a clue what she's talking about – breakfast maybe?
There's a library, to keep me informed and educated now that I no longer have to go to school and an office, which I'll probably use for my painting or for dad to take care of the bakery's books.
The second floor is populated by bedrooms, there's enough for each of my family members to have their own and a spare for guests. All have their private bathroom with running cold and hot water.
Once the house tour is over, it's time for the reporters to come in. I have one last interview before all of them get piled up in the train and leave me alone for a few months.
My family sees the cameras as their excuse to leave, promising we'll take better tomorrow at the bakery.
Pictures are taken and more of the same questions made, quicker than I expected everyone is saying goodbye and soon I'm left all alone.
Knowing I won't be able to sleep I wander around getting to know my new house and assigning rooms to my brother and parents.
I leave the house at sunrise headed for the bakery. I've decided to keep my daily routine as unchanged as possible.
Now that I don't have to go to school anymore I can focus all my efforts in the bakery and help my parents all day.
Before I was "the victor of the 73rd annual hunger games" I would wake up before the sunrise, dress in a hurry and help my father making the first batch of bread. I would bake alongside him until my mother arrived, about an hour and a half later. She would them inspect my work, if it was good enough she would send me too school but if my work didn't match her standards she would beat me with whatever was closer.
Walking through the main street I think of how deserted it is now and how in a few hours it will be filled with my friends and colleagues making their way to school.
It will be hard not seeing my friends every day – not seeing her every day.
For me that will be the worst part. I grew accustomed to seeing her every day, watching her arrive at school in the morning, making sure her little sister arrives spotless and on time too her classroom. Watching her at lunch seating besides Madge, each focused on their food, never talking. How I wish I had the courage to seat beside them, I wouldn't need to talk to her, just seating would be enough.
"I have to find a way to continue to see her" I decide.
Walking into my childhood's garden I pass by the old oak tree. No other tree means as much to me as this one. This is where I first conquered my timidity and reached the unreachable, the feared Katniss Everdeen. Throwing her those loafs is, until today, my proudest accomplishment. To me it was like talking to her, knowing she, and her family, would have enough for the night filled me with pride and joy.
My father sees me the minute I walk into the kitchen.
"Peeta, my boy, what a great surprise!" he wipes his hands on his apron and walks forward to hug me.
"I'm here to help as usual dad, nothing has changed" I assure.
"Good. Glad to have you" dad takes my apron and passes it to me. I quickly put it on and join his side to help him work the dough.
We work fast and in silence, just as we used to. He prepares another batch of bread while I work the dough.
I make small loaf shape mounts and place them in a tray. Taking all prepared trays, I load them into the ovens and set the timers.
Then I go back to my father's side and join the necessary ingredients for the cookies.
Dad heats up some of yesterday's bread and fills two glasses with milk, being careful not to spill any. Milk is an expensive item around the district, we rarely have it but dad must have thought this to be a special occasion.
Eating our bread and milk, we make a small break.
"I'm so glad you're here son, I can't stop smiling and thanking the earth to be able to see you and hug you again" he says while caressing my cheek.
"I'm glad to be back too! And now that I am he get to live in that big house and have all the money that we need. You don't ever need to worry about food or supplies anymore. I got it covered from now on" I promise, but Instead of the warm familiar smile I'm expecting I find instead a shred of sadness in his eyes. He must be still thinking how close he was of losing me so I try to change the subject. I don't want anybody suffering because of me, much less my father.
"So, when do you want to move? I already went to the house's blueprint and assigned room, I hope you won't mind" I say but the sadness remains. I'm about to ask him about it when the timers go off.
"The bread is ready" dad says and turns to the ovens.
I help him unload them and place the loafs in their display out front. We then load the cookies in the oven and make two more small cakes. As they require lots of expensive ingredients, fillings and decoration we only ever make on demand. We always make them first thing and then display them in the bakery's windows to attract clients.
It's usually me who decorates the cakes and I intend to do an even better effort to make them look good. I secretly wish Katniss and Prim pass by our windows today to look at the cakes like the often do. I want to make something special for them… I wonder if Katniss would accept a cake made by me. Probably not, not even one for her beloved sister, she would see it as charity.
"Dad do you think I can make a cake for myself?" I ask anyway, thinking maybe there's a way I can give it to Prim.
"Of course, Son, go for it" he responds.
"Do you intend to pay for it?" My mother's voice irrupts through the kitchen.
"Yes, of course I do" I answer. I was expecting to do so anyway, I know how mother is with money.
"What is this ungrateful brat doing in our kitchen?" she asks as she enters the kitchen.
"Marjory, please" my father tries to calm her.
"No, he needs to know he's not welcome in this house anymore" I'm shocked to hear this.
"Why? What did I do? I came home alive? Is that it?" Never before did I answered my mother. Never did I questioned her, but her comment made me furious. What can I possibly have done except try to survive? Maybe that's it, maybe she would rather I'd died.
"No Peeta, no! We're all so, so glad you came back to us. So happy!" my father contradicts my thought.
"You disgraced this family. You insulted me on national television and for that affront you are no longer welcomed in this house and in this family" she says.
"What? For telling the truth?" How can she say that? Everything I said was the truth, everything I said helped me stay alive.
"Oh, you! I knew I should've never had you! You seam loving brat, go live with them if you love them so much" She shouts "Go, get out of here" She picks up the rolling pin and throws it at me so fast, I don't have time to duck and it hits me in the torso. I curve my body and instinctively protect my belly.
"Son please, I think it would be best if you left. I promise will come by your house later" My father holds me and helps me out the bakery.
He kisses me and makes me return to the victor's village. There, I lay on the couch and apply ice to the now bruised area.
I can't believe what just happened, not only did I almost died in the arena, I come back home to find I no longer have a family. I'm completely alone. Maybe if I apologize to my mother, maybe I shouldn't have said what I did, I knew what she thinks of Katniss and the seam folk…
I don't know what to do, I've never lived alone, much less in an enormous house.
I get so lost in thought I lose track of time and almost miss the low but firm knocks on my door.
Disorientated I jump from the couch "What time is it?" I ask out loud although there's no one else to answer.
I walk to the door thinking it's my father, he did say he would come by. I take my knife with me in case it's not him.
I open the door prepared to greet him, but it's not him who expects me on the other side.
No, it's someone I never expected to see on the other side of my door, but always secretly wished I would find every time I opened it.
Katniss Everdeen.