Begin Again [Wattys 2013 Finalist]

Chapter 3

Peeta's POV

Roll dough, frost cake, sketch, paint, wait, repeat. This is my life. It’s simple as that. Except the waiting, which is far from simple. I am completely consumed by waiting, no matter what I’m doing, no matter how I try to distract myself from everything.

In my dreams, I wait alone at the bakery for my family to return. They never will, and I wake knowing that the bakery no longer exists. Neither do they. Well, sometimes I know this. Sometimes, it's fuzzy. It seams surreal that I am completely alone in this world. Othertimes, it's more than fuzzy. What am I supposed to do? Cry about it? No, I’m stronger than that. Sometimes.

I wait to get better, to heal, to forget, to remember, but that may never happen.

I wait hopelessly clinging to whatever is near me for spontaneous flashbacks to subside.

Then, I wait for minutes, and sometimes unbearable days, for the headaches and pain that follow to go away.

I always wait for Katniss. I don’t know why, or what I’m waiting for. Maybe it’s just to see her walk out of her house. Maybe it’s for her to come back to me. Maybe it’s for her to sleep in my arms so I can finally get a good night's rest. Maybe it’s for her to heal too, because I know she’s broken. I want to fix her. But how can I, so broken myself? I can’t even trust myself to be around her without killing her. So I just won’t be around her. It breaks my heart and churns my stomach and takes everything that’s left of me to stay away, but even Haymitch tells me that it’s the right thing to do. But one day, she will find her way back to me, and me to her. If I know nothing else, I know that. We need each other or we will never be whole again. She is the fuel that my heart desperately needs to keep beating. But I force myself to stop thinking about her because just the thought of her name, Katniss, brings up too many different emotions. It does something different to me all the time. Sometimes it has a healing effect that warms my heart and makes me smile ear to ear. Sometimes it sends me into a flashback and turns me into the raging monster that the capitol created. I just never know. I want to love her, but sometimes, I don't know if i do. I was told I used to love her unconditionally, never questioning it. I want that feeling back. But I know I have to wait. So, I look out my window and notice that today, the sky is dark and wind blows and hits my house as if the souls of the people who’s lives I’ve cost try to break down the walls to tear me apart. But I sit by the fire in my bedroom where I can see directly into Katniss’ room. Just barely. She’s not in there now, but I imagine her face as I paint it over and over, never fully able to capture the beauty that she doesn’t know she possesses. Which I don't understand, considering my two year rivalry with Gale Hawthornw to win her affection. And what other reason would I still have to fight myself to be with her? Why do I keep trying? It's becasue she’s so beautiful, inside and out. It's not just the way she looks, the way her eyes, despite their grey color, seem to twinkle, the way her messy braid frames her face, the slight curve of her hips. It's her fight, her persistance, her toughness, her vulnerability, her capacity to love. It's all of these things wrapped in one. But she doesn’t know it. All she sees are the battle scares (also beautiful). Which is stupid. Suddenly, I jolt at the sound of a bang that came from somewhere on my street. I descend the stairs and go to the window in my kitchen from which I can see Haymitch’s house. And then I see Katniss, tears streaming down her face, running. At first I almost smile, just seeing her out and alive. But then I become concerned. I don’t know where she’s going in this storm, but she’s passed her house. And she’s sad. And it’s dangerous out. But I can’t help her. I can only hurt her. Without grabbing my jacket, I run to Haymitch’s and enter without knocking. He’s standing in his kitchen with his head in his hands. He set Katniss off.