The Nightmares Hidden in Dreams - A Hunger Games Fan Fiction

Friend?

A little boy with blond curls and gray eyes races around the Meadow, his laughs like those of bells, ringing high and clear.

I smile at the sight of him, letting him run further and further for the sake of whatever game he is playing.

Suddenly, I hear a loud noise behind me, like an explosion. It brings me back to the explosion that burned my sister alive, that left me covered in a myriad of scars. But nothing is there. Nothing but more grass and the sky.

Relieved, I turn back around, only to realize that I cannot see the boy. I quickly get to my feet, jerking my head back and forth in a panic. I call his name over and over, but he doesn't reappear. I can no longer hear his laughter. But I can hear something else.

Piercing, high-pitched screams begin, the sort that can only be produced by a young child.

I begin to run towards the woods. But these aren't my woods. Those are a refuge, but the branches of these trees loom towards me, grabbing me, puncturing me with deep wounds, trying to keep me from the boy who continues to scream within.

The foliage only gets thicker, becoming impossible to pass through without some sort of tool. I pound at the branches, as though this will get them to move, begging to get to the boy, to save my son.

The screams stop, but this doesn't calm me, instead doing the opposite. Because there's only one plausible reason for the unsettling quiet that now settles in the forest.

➳➳➳

I jolt up in bed, coated in a cold sweat. I press a hand to my chest, willing my heart to stop beating so fast.

"It was just a dream," I whisper, taking deep breaths. "Just a dream."

"Katniss?" A voice cuts through the darkness.

I turn to my left and can just make out Peeta's silhouette in the moonlight. His eyes are open, shining like a cat's.

"Nightmare?" he asks, and I nod in response. He sits up, the mattress creaking slightly under his shifting weight. It's only when his arms are around me, pulling me flush against him, that I realize that I've been shivering.

Peeta pulls the covers tighter around me, kissing my shoulder while whispering, It's okay, it was just a nightmare, but I can't shake the fear. The fear that no matter how careful I am, something awful will inevitably happen to my child.

➳➳➳

It takes me a long time to fall asleep again, and when sleep finally finds me, it's a restless one that leaves me more tired than before.

I wake in the early afternoon, when the sun is high up in the sky. The light streams in the window, and I blink blearily, wishing I could turn it off.

It's a struggle to get out of the bed, largely because of my exhaustion. I stretch, wincing at the twinge in my back. Pausing in front of the mirror, I cinch the back of my shirt and turn to the side. The slight roundness of my stomach comes as a surprise.

A phone call with my mother told me that I should now be through the first trimester, meaning no more nausea, thankfully. I knew that it was only a matter of time before I started showing, but it still comes as a sort of shock to find that it no longer looks like I'm merely bloating.

My steps feel heavier than usual, like I'm stomping down the stairs. But when I hear Peeta's voice downstairs, sounding somewhat agitated, I make a conscious effort to move a little quieter.

As I get closer, his words become more defined.

"No, I'm not looking to travel right now. I'm just looking for a better way of dealing with this."