Post Mockingjay Story Cuz I Need This

He's Done.

*WARNING FOR SELF HARM*\

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I haven't laughed since...I'm not even sure. I haven't smiled since...I don't know either. But as I finish my cheese buns I realize and appreciate how wonderful it feels. How wonderful it feels just to be happy.

You don't deserve to be happy.

You shouldn't be alive.

You should just-

The voices are cut off though. They're cut off when I look at Peeta. His smile is so genuine. One that consists of perfect teeth and dimples. To see him so happy makes me even happier and it shuts up the voices in my head. We're both smiling and laughing. I can't hear my own laughs. I'm that out of it. But I can hear Peeta's. His are loud and warm making me feel joy course through my veins that had been temporarily drained dry of the feeling.

Here we are. Sitting, smiling, laughing, enjoying ourselves over our plates of heaven thanks to Peeta.

Thanks to Peeta.

Thanks to Peeta I was able to get out of bed today, even if he had to be the one to carry me. Thanks to Peeta I was able to smile and laugh without having to feel guilty about it completely. Thanks to Peeta I am still standing here. What would I do without him?

But what would I do without him? The thought hits me harder than any of my self-harmful thoughts. I remember this feeling in the cave when I had thought that exact same thing and I had gotten that exact same feeling and answer. I don't want to keep thinking about it but my mind has other ideas.

I rethink scenes in my nightmares of him being tortured. Him being killed right in front of me by Snow's hand or Coin's for that matter.

But before I can keep thinking of such terrible things we hear a crash. Peeta and I rush to the window and see Haymitch stumbling out crying and yelling things we can't tell from his drunken and teary state.

We ran out there and came to his aid. When he looks at us he freezes and wears a look of horror.

"No, no, no. I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! PLEASE!!!!" Haymitch's knees give out on him and he falls to the ground, now yelling. "I'M SORRY!!! IT'S ALL MY FAULT!!! I'M SORRY!!!" Haymitch fumbles around for something in his robe and pulls out one of the things I had hoped I would never see again in my whole life.

A gun.

He takes it and aims it towards his head, pointing it right in front of his forehead. He begins to talk again but now in a whisper only Peeta and I can hear.

"I'm so sorry I failed at protecting you both. My beautiful, kind boy. My beautiful, stubborn girl. I'm so sorry at fucking up like I always do."

And then he pulls the trigger.