The Hunger Games: Extended Epilogue

Chapter 23: Porch Light

A cold hand touches my back and I flinch, only to meet eyes with the woman who was reading to the children under the tree.
"Hello, Katniss." She says, though I have never seen here nor talked to her. But I don't think much of it, being the girl on fire involuntarily threw me into the lime light years ago.
She is older, maybe her 60s? To me, I see Mags in her smile.
"It's so great for you to visit us, I have heard so much about you."
I smile back, "Its amazing that you read to the children, are you their teacher?"
"Yes, until the school rebuilds and are able to take in more students, I solely make sure they are provided with at least some education."
There was a pause in the conversation, I'm horrible at small talk.
"How are you doing? Peeta tells me that you are slowly getting back to your feet."
Peeta says how he does frequently delivers his extras, but I never knew he talked about me. I'm not sure if I feel proud or violated.
"Yes, it's been hard. Though I have been trying to move on. With Peetas help of course."
Move on isn't the right word choice, I will never be able to move on. It's just how I can pretend to be okay with it all.
"I know it isn't my business, but Peeta truly loves you Katniss. It seems every time he visits, he can't help but talk about you. And when someone else asks how you are, his face beams with emotion."
I look up to her eyes and smile, "thank you. And, what you are doing here with the children is quite amazing."
The rest of the past quickly. Peeta played with the children a while, while I sat and talked with the teacher.
I later found out that her some was chosen to be in the Hunger Games when he was 17, I was only 12 that year. She told me how grateful she was for what Peeta and I have done. Now she live in piece to know that her grandchildren will never be at risk like her son was.
It was dusk when we left, and only got home with minor visibility.
At the end of the street, at the last home standing before the fallen ones, was a light on at the porch and again in the upstairs window.
I thought we were alone in this street so the visitor must be a victor.
Haymitch.