When the Fire Ceased

Chapter 39 - Wounded

CHAPTER 39

Wounded

"Stop", Haymitch says. "Let him be".

I hesitate and then give up, I go to sit on the table next to Haymitch, he offers me from his bottle. I take it and drink a sip. The alcohol burns my throat, and it tastes awful, I give the bottle back to Haymitch with a disgusted face.

"This is my fault", I say. "I keep ruining it-", before I finish I throw my head to my hands, and stay there.

The sound of the paparazzi approaching outside the house is grwoing louder.

"I won't reject that", says Haymitch.

"You're not helping". I say.

I feel a rock forming on my throat, but I push it away, I can't cry, not now. I have to think of something.

I hear them just on the porch now. They are screaming my name and Peeta's, begging for us to come out.

After a while, I decide to go upstairs and find Peeta, maybe he'll think of something, if he even talks to me.

I knock on the door. "Peeta?".

"Peeta?", I say louder.

But nothing happens, I try to open the door, but it's locked. "Peeta, please let me in", I say.

I keep repeating that, but the door doesn't open. Before I think of something to do with the situation downstairs, I have the idea to to write him a letter, maybe he'll read it.

I take ten minutes or so, when I'm done, I fold the paper in two and slide it underneath the door.

From the window I look at the paparazzi, they must be a dozen, they have cameras and they are demanding to see us. "Katniss! Katniss! Katniss!", they keep screaming.

"Come on, guys! Show your faces!"

"The Star-Crossed Lovers from District 12 are back!".

I begin to go down the stairs, with the shouts of the people outside.

I'm walking towards Haymitch when I hear, "How are you dealing with your sister's death, Katniss?", someone says. "Is it true you've lost your mind?".

I explode, rage consumes me, all the hatred and anger takes over my arms, legs, and body.

As if by an instinct, I immeadiately grab my bow and arrows, and start for the door. I already feel the tears about to leave my eyes.

But before I can get to the door, Haymitch throws himself over me.

"Let me go!", I bark.

I kick and twist, but Haymitch's grip is stronger on me. He holds my hands above my head like he did when I found out that the rebels didn't rescue Peeta, and it was a syringe and me against the Capitol.

"What are you thinking?", he says loudly. "You can't go out there and begin shooting those people, God are you crazy or what?".

I begin to stop fighting, and the rage begins to fade too, and I just feel numb. Maybe I am. Maybe I'm crazy.

Haymitch's right, what was I thinking? I can't kill that person, I've already taken more lives away than I can count, and I know the people outside are just doing their work, even as awful as it is.