I posted this a little bit ago but this is the revised edition and the other version has been deleted
All the wrongs we've done,
all the rights we've wished,
they have led somehow led us,
to this exact moment,
asking us now
"Are you sure that was the best idea?"
=+=+=
I've often thought how my life would have been if I had made different choices, if certain events hadn't happened, if the world was better.
What would life be like if my father hadn't died? My mother wouldn't have been sucked in by depression and left Prim and I to fend for ourselves for years. I wouldn't have been forced to start hunting illegally at such a young age. Prim would maybe have had a full belly after a meal. I wouldn't have had to accept the tesserae.
What if Prim's name hadn't been chosen? I wouldn't have been a tribute in the Games. I would still be home in District Twelve, hunting with Gale. Prim would have still had a sister. I might have ended up with Gale. My little duck wouldn't have to grow up so quickly. My family wouldn't have to pack up and move underground to Thirteen. I would know that, although hungry, we would be safe. I never would've been the Girl on Fire. I would never have fallen in love with Peeta.
What if Peeta hadn't been reaped? I would've been thrown into the arena with no allies, no sponsors, and the personality of a dead slug. There would have been no star-crossed lovers. No boy with the bread. Peeta might have watched the Games to watch over me. He might have even helped gather donations to send down silver parachutes. But after I had died, he would move on. Look after his father's bakery, settle down with a rich Merchant girl like Delly, and start a family. He would completely forget about me.
What if I hadn't threatened to eat the nightlock? The Capitol wouldn't hate me. I'd still be a nobody in the poorest District in Panem. Peeta and the other Victors wouldn't have been thrown back into the Games in the Quarter Quell. I wouldn't be the Mockingjay. There wouldn't a rebellion. So many wouldn't be dead because of me.
What if I hadn't destroyed the arena? What if Peeta had been saved instead of me? What if I was the one that was taken, not him? What if we had both been rescued? What if Thirteen had been ruined? What if there was no rebellion?
What if Prim was still alive? I would still have my little duck. I wouldn't be harbouring such a strong loathing towards Gale. I wouldn't have lost the only person I'm sure I love.
What if, what if, what if. These questions are running around in my mind, making sleeping even more difficult. I don't know how they expect me to be the face of the rebellion. I'm not a leader. I won't be remembered as Katniss Everdeen, the girl from the Seam, but as Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire, the Mockingjay.
Our lives are made of events, and we make a choice everyday on how to live our life. We can't imagine anything but out life now, but it could have turned out completely different if just one thing hadn't happened. It's crazy how much rests on just one decision.
=+=+=
No matter how much I dwell on the past, it's never going to change. I don't have my father, I don't have Finnick, or Mags, or Wiress, or Rue. But I do have Peeta. I haven't lost the boy with the bread. He's still here beside me despite the Capitol's torture.
And now I have the man responsible for all of this death in front of me, facing his own end. I'm supposed to kill him. I will kill him. He's the main reason behind all of this.
And yet, my weapon is pointing to Coin, the arrow piercing her heart and killing her instantly. The crowd watching the live execution stays quiet as she tumbles to the ground as Snow cackles. I look over at Peeta, and he smiles back at me, his eyes flashing in the pale sunshine. I must have done the right thing. I did do the right thing. Killing her was the right thing to do. She was no better that Snow. Peeta has reassured me. I did the right thing.
And just like that, it all went wrong.
=+=+=
I look over at Katniss, the utter confusion on her face soothing me.
She killed my family. And now I will kill her. I point the gun in her direction and place my finger on the trigger to kill their precious Mockingjay. Just as I let the bullet go, memories consume me.
The arena imploding. The Capitol locking me up. The guards injecting me with tracker jacker venom. Snow convincing me Katniss was the enemy. Katniss singing in assembly, Katniss wearing two braids, Katniss bringing home her sister to the bakery, Katniss trading in her game, Katniss volunteering for her sister, Katniss being reaped again, Katniss kissing me.
Katniss, Katniss, Katniss, Katniss, Katniss. Over and over all I see is her.
And then it stops.
And I'm too late.
I've just killed Katniss Everdeen, the girl I've loved since I was five. I shot a bullet through her chest and made her crumple to the ground. She looks at me one last time with those beautiful grey eyes before they gloss over. And then I know how it feels to have a bullet in the chest almost instantly after because there was one in my heart. Haymitch had shot me. No not me, not Peeta Mellark the baker, one half of the Star-Crossed Lovers, but hijacked me. Snow did this. He ruined everything I've ever known and could've had and killed all of my loved ones. He hangs dead from the pole they tied him to, blood dripping from his mouth, his snake-like eyes staring down at the ground.
Bright crimson blood seeps through my grey shirt and I collapse.
The last thing I see is Katniss' lifeless body being rocked back and forth by Gale as he sobs over her death. The only person I ever intentionally killed was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
I never asked for this.
She didn't deserve this.
None of us did, but especially not her.
Not her.
