The Hunger games - I'm still breathing (Everlark)

Chapter 6

The morning sun streaming through the window is what wakes me the next day. I turn my head to look at Peeta and see that he is still asleep. His eyes have dark circles beneath them, either from the lack of sleep or the strain of having another flashback. I slowly untangle myself from him so as not to wake him and walk over to the window.
I open it slightly and feel the cool breeze on my face. The birds sing as if they haven't got a care in the world. What I wouldn't give to trade places. The smell of smoke still lingers in the air, a constant reminder of the destruction that took place in District 12. The destruction that I caused. I close the window, shutting down my thoughts.
I walk out into the landing and stand there for a few minutes, taking deep breaths, trying to stop the despair I feel inside from devouring me. I find myself wandering down the hall and hovering outside Prim's bedroom. I haven't been in her room since I got back to the house. Everything inside will be a reminder of my beautiful sister who isn't here anymore.
Nonetheless, I feel myself turning the handle and walking inside, driven by the craving I have to feel her around me. Her smell hits my nose instantly, a mixture of baby powder and vanilla. It isn't suffocating like I thought it would be though, if anything it feels reassuring.
I walk over to her desk, taking in the objects that lay on top of it. A basket of ribbons for her hair, a music box, a framed picture of our father and a schoolbook lying open. I stare at the opened page, at the sentence she never got to finish. This must have been where she was when the bombs were dropped and she had to flee. I turn away from the book, feeling the unfinished sentence to close to a metaphor for Prim's unfinished life.
I make my way over to her cream, wooden wardrobe. We picked this out together when I got back from my first Hunger games. I'd had a bad night, dreams filled with the death of the other 22 tributes. I'd gone and got into Prim's bed with her, wanting to make sure she was safe. The next day she suggested that we go shopping to try and take my mind off things. I agreed and we walked into town together. We went into her favourite sweet shop and brought some of the shimmery pinks sweets that we could never afford before. Just as we were leaving, we walked by the carpenter's shop. Prim stopped and gazed into the window, looking at the intricate pattern engraved into the wood of the wardrobe.
"You like it?" I asked her.
She nodded her head not for one moment taking her eyes of the wardrobe.
"Well come on then, let's go get it," I said, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the shop with me.
"But it'll cost a lot of money, Katniss," she protested.
"So, we have more than enough money now Prim, let me spoil you for once!" I said, tickling her under the chin. She giggled and shoved my hand away. Times like these were the only times I felt good about winning the games.
We paid for the wardrobe and had to hire a cart to get it back to the house with us. We spent the rest of the day manoeuvring the wardrobe up the stairs, with the help of my mother and trying it in various positions in Prim's room until it was perfect for her.
This memory causes a sadness to come over me. Instead of remembering all the good times with my sister, I have been blocking her out trying to forget that she isn't here anymore. This feels like the worst type of betrayal, I should have been keeping her alive in my memory not casting her off like she meant nothing to me.
I open her wardrobe doors and run my hands along the dresses hanging up in there. Each dress holds a different memory. I climb inside, pulling some of the dresses down on top of me, seeking comfort from them.
"Prim? Are you there?" I whisper, desperately wanting a reply, wanting to hear my little sister's happy voice again. No reply comes.
I wait and I wait. I eventually doze off, my cheeks wet from the thought that my little duck never got to come home.