THE MAN IN THE HANGING TREE | Gale Hawthorne

FORTY SEVEN - Please Take Me Forever

YOUR POINT OF VIEW

It has been six months since everything happened. 

Six months since the end of the rebellion, six months since the Mockingjay saved us all, six months since I had been tortured and shot, six months since Katniss killed Coin, six months since I slaughtered Snow, six months since Gale left me.

Twelve has been almost completely restored to it's former glory at last, although there will always be evidence of the fires and bombs that tormented the town.  All the people who perished on the streets were moved by a bunch of the men who used to work in the mines, some of them were Gale's friends.

When they got to my house, the house of the former mayor of Twelve, the house of the Undersees, I was right there with them. I knew they were gone, but I had to see for myself. 

Sure enough, when they sifted through the burnt rubble, they found two bodies that appeared to be holding each other tightly. It was hard to tell who they were exactly, but I knew it was my mom and Jack, and I finally began to truly mourn them. 

I took solace in knowing they were with each other in their final moments, but every second in their absence still hurt-- especially when I didn't even get to give them a proper goodbye..

Every body recovered was buried in the meadow just outside of Twelve, the same meadow I had sung to Gale in so long ago. A memorial for all those lost was erected, a plaque with every name and a single phrase: we will remember forever.

I knew I always would remember forever.

My dad, Katniss, Peeta, and I were some of the first people back in Twelve after the events that transpired at the execution, and together had fallen into a routine. 

We are one weird family, one big broken family. We each have our own individual problems to deal with, but just being around each other helps. I live with my dad in his house in Victor's Village, and Katniss and Peeta share the one next door, though they didn't think we notice that they had moved in together yet. 

Primroses now grace our houses' front gardens, in memory of our own dear Primrose. Peeta had also planted forget-me-nots, which were my mother's favourites. I cried when he first brought them home.

The two secret love birds are over at most meal times, and every day Peeta brings over something he baked. Whether it be bread, cookies, or cakes, it is always delicious. Katniss still hunted for us too, even though we could afford buying fresh meat at the now legal market in town. 

Hunting and baking are their coping methods after all, I suppose it keeps them sane after everything.

My dad still drinks, but not nearly as heavily, in fact he too created a new method to deal with things-- raising some geese in our back yard, and tending a small vegetable garden. It's funny to see him in the morning out my window, feeding the animals gingerly with kind hands, plucking weeds diligently from his garden.

It makes me happy to see him better than ever though, perhaps this is my coping mechanism-- seeing others happy.

Delly Cartwright, mine and Peeta's best friend from childhood visits often too. She and I spend hours reminiscing about our simple childhoods, about anything to distract ourselves. On particularly hard days, we sit with each other and cry as we think about the boy we both used to love, Noah. He was lost with the rest of the Mellarks, all buried in the meadow with my family. 

Effie comes out to visit a lot too, and my suspicions were confirmed when her and my dad shared a kiss one afternoon. They both deserve each other, they have both come so far, I am so happy for them-- but it still stings a bit that everyone around me is happily coupled.