now or never ~ future everlark

1-After

It's been 10 years since the Great War. Since the mockingjay, since prim, coin, Finnick and since I lost my mother. She's the only one who didn't physically leave, just mentally.

I haven't seen my own mother once since prims death, it's like what she did when my father died, but worse and like she's in a coma. She sits in a rocking chair in her house day in day out with no gaps for food. I miss her greatly and I miss prim even more. When I lost prim it was like I not only lost my sister but also my mother, my bestfriend and even a large fragment of myself.

I vowed to peeta that I would never leave twelve after prims death and he was reluctant at first but did cut all un-needed ties with the outside world.

We have been living in my house in 12 for 7 years now but I am starting to agree with peeta on the front of moving. I see prim everywhere in that house, I see her on the sofa with that stupid cat. I see her at the dressing table in my bedroom. I see gale on that ridiculous table in the kitchen, covered in ice. The thought of gale brings a storm of anger across my face. I hate him. I hate him so much.

I bring myself back to the room when I hear peetas voice echoing my name from across the hall and all of a sudden a smile paints itself over my face.

Even though it's hard, I try my best to keep my worries to myself. Peeta has enough to worry about. He has to live with the flashbacks of his hijacking, his home burning down and taking his family with it, trying to rebuild the bakery and manage the nightmares. I have nightmares too, and he's always there to help and that makes another thing onto his worry list. Me.

The nightmares are beginning to fade, that or I'm just used to them and to be frank, I'm bargaining on the second option. Dr muller - my mothers old friend - prescribed us with these comforting pills to help us sleep. Peeta lives by them but I just can't bring myself to do it. Prims cat loves them though so it's okay.

I crush them up in that strange marble bowl that prim bought just before the hob was burned down. I slip them into buttercups milk. Without sounding strange the dreams in some sort of way comfort me. They remind me of prims face, rues whistle, finnicks charm, thresh's kindness. It's a bitter sweet symphony. Thats until I see the replays, the mutts, the spear, the bomb. Thats when I scream. When I need peeta most, and he's always there.