Begin Again [Wattys 2013 Finalist]

Chapter 1

I smell Greasy Sae’s hot soup as its aromas fill my house, but I don’t budge. I sit, unblinking, unmoving, staring at the fire. Sometimes I wonder if I’m even breathing. I shouldn’t be. It would be better if I weren’t. Its been about a month since Peeta came home and I haven’t left my house since that day when he planted the Primroses. I cried myself to sleep that night, curled in a ball on my living room sofa. I really don’t have a reason or desire to be a part of the outside world again. I've done enough damage. And I do NOT want to run into him again. Or do I? Why am I avoiding him? Does a part of me want to run over to his house and break down his door just to see him? No. Definitely not. My head starts spinning just thinking about him. I hate him. I hate him for planting the primroses in my garden, and I don’t want to see him ever again. We're no good for each other. I don't need him. He doesn't need me. He doesn't want me. Do I want him? As I consider this, my thoughts become blurry with the next headache that comes on.

Peeta

His name echoes in my head.

“STOP THINKING ABOUT IT,” I yell to myself. But Sae turns around and shoots me a look so I’m guessing that it was out loud. Another reason why I will never leave my house again. I've developed a habit of talking to myself. Well, mostly yelling, considering I hate myself. I'm a killer, an assasin, manipulative, distrustful, violent, deadly. Why am I not dead? I should be dead. Sae calls me in to eat dinner, but I’m not hungry. I pretend like I don’t hear her and drag myself upstairs to my room and lie down in my bed. My eyelids start to droop, but I know I won’t sleep.

~

My eyes flick back and forth, scanning my surroundings. This scene is familiar to me. I’m in my mockingjay suit, bow live in my hand, people everywhere. I lock my focus on my target, the man I swore I’d kill if it were the last thing I’d ever do. He did all of this to me, after all. He made into this demon. I aim for the rose positioned on Snow’s jacket. But, alas, my scattered mind will not allow me to complete the task at hand, so I switch my sights to Coin, standing high above the crowd on a balcony. I raise my bow, but before I can release the arrow, I see an identical arrow flying at me out of the corner of my eye. I spin around and fire the arrow towards the threat, but again, an arrow comes flying at me from the other side. I shoot again. I get shot again. I’m firing arrows in every direction, but every time I let one fly, I get hit. My arrows are flying back at me, as if they’re bouncing off of a force field.

You’re doing this to yourself, I think, waking myself up with a scream.

~

As I pull myself out of the dream, I hug my knees to my chest and try to resist crying. As usual, I cannot resist. I am weak. I look out the window into the darkness. I subconsciously wish for Peeta’s arms to be around me, fighting off the endless nightmares of Prim and Rue and Finnick and the horror that is my life. I have to remind myself that I don’t want that, that I hate him. Or do I? I don’t know what I feel. And that’s the reason why I won’t see him again. I feel the headache coming on. They always manifest themselves when I think too hard. I try to control the desire that I feel right now, but I can't. More than anything, I want to be protected by strong arms, to feel loved and needed, to smell flour and sugar every time I'm near him. I exert too much energy reminding myself that the person my subconscious mind longs for no longer exists. The boy with the bread is gone, and Peeta and I are not on speaking terms. I force myself to think that this is good, that it's what I want, but the thoughts are too painful and I pass out becasue I don't even have the strength to think. The next day, nothing changes. Nothing has. Nothing will. I sit unmoving, unblinking, staring at the fire. As if by some miracle this fire will ignite the one that used to burn bright in me. Greasy Sae demands that I come eat breakfast for the third time this morning. I'm in a mood from my confusing progression of thoughts last night, and, of course, I take out my anger on Sae. She's the only one around. I don't even know why I'm angry. I know that I shouldn't be, but I can't help myself.

“NO! I’m not eating. I’m not hungry. I’m gonna sit here until I die! I don’t even know why you bother with me!”

I know that I sound like a child, and I know that I sound harsh, but I don’t care. This isn’t the first time I’ve yelled at her and it won’t be the last. Not until she stops feeding me and lets me die. I wait for the lecture that will follow, about how it’s her job to do this for me. How she wants to do this for me. I still think that the government is paying her. Why does she like me? The rest of Pamen hates me. This time though, her lecture is different.

“You know Katniss, nothing that I can do is gonna give you the will to go on. No matter how hard I try, you have to do this on your own.”

I stand and try to yell back, but immediately sit back down because I’m lightheaded.

Sae continues, “I know you don’t want to be alive. I know you would rather your sister, or anyone else who you think you’ve killed, be here instead. But they’re not. You are. And you can’t change that. Do you think Prim would want you to live like this? Broken, no, shattered to bits, forever! She wouldn’t Katniss!"

Sae throws her hands up in the air. I don’t reply. I just cry. Prim would know how to light my internal fire again. Prim. The only person I know I love. Loved. Because she’s dead. More tears come.

Sae chimes in again, “Oh Katniss, I’m sorry. I know you miss her dearly. I know you think that she would be able to pick up the pieces and put them back together. But she’s not the only one who could do it.”

I know what she’s about to say. And then she goes and says it. I try to block it out, but I can’t. I try. I can’t.

“There are other people who can help you. If you want. And someone who can do for you what you know Prim could do might be more broken than you are right now.”

I knew she would mention him sooner or later. She’s always loved him. I know she doesn’t mean Gale. He’s far from broken. He’s living happily ever after in District 2. I know she doesn’t mean Haymitch. He certainly cannot pick up the pieces of my shattered soul. Only one person could fill the hole in my heart. Peeta. But I hate him. And like Sae said, he’s even more broken than I am. Why would I want to deal with that? The slamming door is the last thing I hear before I walk to my kitchen and bite into a hot biscuit. The first bite of food I’ve taken willingly in months. But I’m not doing it for myself. No, I don’t deserve to live, and I’m not even sure if I will. I’m doing it for Prim, the only person I’m sure I love. Loved. I eat half the biscuits on the plate. They’re so good. Almost as good as Peeta’s cheese buns. I guess that’s another thing I’ll have to live without. I think that today, I will try to go back to the woods. Not to hunt, I don’t want a repeat of last time when Thom had to cart me home. No, I just want to see if it helps. Gale always said that I only smile in the woods, so maybe if I could get there, it’ll give me a little more motivation to heal. Greasy Sae was wrong about one thing. I don’t need Peeta to put me back together. I’ll do it myself. But how? I should be dead. But I’m not. Prim is. Which is why I need to make good of this life. I push myself up from the table and spin around to grab my father’s hunting jacket, which now lives in the closet between my living room and kitchen. As I’m about to leave the door, I get a terrible feeling in my stomach that I can’t ignore. I immediately run to the bathroom. I was just in time too, because I throw up there right away for about five minutes before deciding that I’m not going out today. My stomach is not exactly used to heavy food, and I shouldn’t have used so much butter on the biscuits either. I groggily walk to my room and lay down, clutching my stomach. My eyes feel heavy and I drift off to sleep again. I start to feel a dream coming on, and I get a glimpse of it before I’m totally sleeping. Right before I fall into a deep sleep, an image of dandelions flashes in my mind.

~

As I wake, I feel breath on my neck. It’s warm. I like it.

“Peeta,” I whisper, not fully awake or aware. I reach over and try to grab his strong arms, but instead I feel a ball of fluff. This startles me and I jerk up, kicking and punching. It’s Buttercup. It’s just the cat. That damn stupid cat. Did I dream of Peeta? Did I actually want him to be lying here next to me in bed? I did. I want him to fight the nightmares away for me again. Selfish. Mid thought, I realize that my stomach feels better and I get out of bed as I hear the door open. I go downstairs and, right on time; it’s Greasy Sae for dinner. But this time, she brought he granddaughter.