Broken Wings

Chapter 31

"And how in hell would that help huh?"

I sigh and put my face in my hands in frustration. How can he not get it? I have told Haymitch my plans for a sudden exit twice now. The first time he was drunk and told me to come back the next day, so I have, and yet he won't be serious about it. "I've told you." I say hoping to get through to him. "I don't belong in his life. You said yourself that I don't deserve him." Looking up, I see him nodding his head in agreement.

"True, but at the same time, considering the hell he has been through, he deserves anything he wants." The logic is true and even though I know he is trying to talk me out of the right thing I find myself believing him. "And let's face it sweetheart, for better or worse that kid wants you. Always has always will. So..." Haymitch beats his chest, belches then continues "it's time to drop the act and admit that you are the problem not him," How could I be the problem, I'm trying to protect him surely that makes me the solution? Haymitch must see my confusion because he elaborates more. "You're not helping him by running away, you're only running because you are scared... like you always do." He finishes with a roll of his eyes, but I'm to roped up in thought to care. I know he's right but I'm not sure how. "what am I scared of?" I asks with a broken voice "Pfft, like I know. That's for you to figure out, now get out I want a drink and I want it alone." This is said with accusatory eyes, probably due to his missing bottles and a tipsy neighbour two days ago. I was in a bad way due to waking up in prims room after a nightmare, and not have the usual remedy of a hot chocolate and Peeta's company. Since then, Haymitch has locked his doors at night.

Reaching my house fills me with dread, because I don't have anyone or anything that makes it feel like home, even my stupid cat thinks so. I know this because on the second night that he had left Buttercup tried desperately to calm me after my usual nightmares, but with no avail. The rest of the night he tried to get me to follow him, and eventually I did, but I wish I hadn't, because Buttercup had led me to the door of his house. Even the cat knows how useless I am without that boy. As I crumbled to my knees crying, he rubbed himself all over my face purring and trying to help and since that night I have once again given up on sleeping. Once again, I walk with the complexion of the dead. It funny how suitable it is for me, for whenever he leaves, I feel dead inside. So, here I sit in my lounge, that has become on of the most used rooms in my house, due to the cold whether and my laziness in not wanting to maintain the fire upstairs as well as down. The only reason I go upstairs these days is to bathe and dress.

Peeta has been gone for four days and I haven't heard from him after his call to tell me he'll be home on Monday. I miss him, that much I know, but part of me wonders if staying there will be good. He could build a bakery there and make a killing, I know for sure many will be dying to say they had a Mellark cake for their wedding. The thought is awful because I can't imagen much worse than loosing Peeta, let alone to losing him the Capital. Oh, how I wish I could just figure out what's wrong with me. If I could figure that out, then maybe I wouldn't constantly be fighting myself about letting good be a part of my life. The good that is Peeta makes me nothing but happy, but I can never seem to let myself enjoy it. Maybe Haymitch is right maybe I am just running from my problems, but what else can I do. I've tried just being friends but I some how messed that up again, I've even unintentionally tried cutting him out completely up until Johanna came. Nothing works either im bitterly depressed and melt back into the mess my sister left me in, or I give in too much and risk the feeling of his touch and the sensation of his lips on my head. I know I should stop wanting it but deep down I can't and even when he isn't around, I find myself thinking about if we where more than friends, or how I can't actually see my future with the notorious Peeta Mellark.

As I sit on the coach the wind starts howling outside the window, a sound that is added to by the sound of a set of paws prancing towards me. As Buttercup jumps onto my lap, I turn my gaze to the window and see that we are getting a light dusking of snow and I know that any plans to up and run to the woods would be pre-mature and have high risks that won't be there in a month or so. I search myself for emotions about my foiled plans, all I come up with is the feeling of relief. Maybe that makes me a coward, but I guess I truly don't want to leave. This is my home too, and if Peeta can return after his lose which is greater than mine, then I owe it to the people here to stay and continue to help out the community as best I can. I think of Philip whose wife has returned with a healthy newborn boy. I think about Deli and her training at our new medical centre. And I think about Greasy Sea and how her new soup kitchen is serving not only as food for the workers, but a developing charity where people give what they can in hopes that others less fortunate have a place to sleep and some hearty stew to settle their stomach. Even though the war is over many still struggle and some go without, but Sea has made it her mission to try and fill every stomach she can. Yes, this is defiantly a home I can be proud of and leaving would mean cutting out more people then just Peeta. Id be leaving friends and some like Sea and Haymitch would make it feel like leaving family as well.

I don't know what's come over me but suddenly I'm reach for the phone and dialling the number that Peeta called on last. It too late though, because on the first ring he picks up. "Any news?" is the first thing he says in a worried voice. News? What news? "No...?"

He lets out a sigh with a mixture of relief and frustration "Oh, it's you." There is an edge in his voice that I don't like, like he is being interrupted. "Have I interrupted something?" I ask a little defensively, but he doesn't answer, and I can here from his breath that he isn't focusing on the phone. "Peeta?"

"Ah..., yes. Yes actually." He says more snottily than he usually. Im about to call him out no it when I hear a sing song voice of a younger woman calling him. I slam the phone down so fast, as if it had burned me. All of a sudden, I feel as though a knife has been plunged into my chest as twisted into a more permanent position. What was she doing there? Maybe she was the reason he didn't want to talk to me, the reason I have not been called to check that the line didn't just go dead. I can just images it now, him kissing her with passion and then my call interrupting. The thought makes my stomach churn and I feel everything that comes with betrayal. Hurt, anger, remorse and guilt. Guilt because this I what I have been routing for, or so I thought. Now that it is actually happening, I feel as though Peeta has cut me deep. It's ridiculous the amount of pain I feel, he doesn't owe me anything, but it still hurts. To know that I am replaceable. To know he is moving on. And... to know that my Peeta is being claimed by another. I'm crying so hard you'd think that I had been stabbed, even Buttercup howls with me as if he can feel my pain. That's how I spend the rest of my night, crying myself to sleep and hoping that I'm misjudging a situation.

When I do open my puffy eyes it's because there is a banging on my door so hard it may come off its hinges. Half awake o go to the door and swing it open meaning to scream at Haymitch for coming to bug me in my misery, but when I open the door im met with a much taller, younger version of the steely eyed seam look. I just glare with a look that could kill before a venomous word escapes my mouth.

"Gale."