GONE (The Hunger Games)

Epilogue

Aaaaand it's finally here, the last chapter! I would just like to say a massive massive thank you to everyone, and the 1000 reads I have right now! I love you all so much. 

The gentle breeze swirls around us as we sit on the soft grass of the graveyard. Katniss and I, with our son and daughter. We came here about an hour ago. It's been 20 years. 20 years since Snow was finally taken down.  20 years ago since Prim and so many other people died. 

A few meters away there is a simple headstone. By it lay a bundle of Primroses that we put there when we came. Katniss's face is set into a hard line, yet I can still the slight redness in her eyes from unshed tears. She seems so invested in her own little world as she stares at our children, a far away look in her eyes. I take in a deep breath of the cool and clear air, staring at the setting sun. I soon realise the sun isn't want I want to see, so instead I look over at our son. His grey eyes- just like Katniss's- are so bright with pure fun and innocence as he toddles around after his older sister. I'd much rather look at our family -alive and happy, despite everything that's happened in the past- rather than any sun, any star. 

Everything is just starting to settle down in Panem, yet Katniss and I are still the "brave heroes" who are praised and talked about in every street, shop and school.  We always put on a smile, thank the praisers, and hold onto our kids' hands a little tighter, getting home the new priority. The kids rush over to go play with their toys as Katniss and I go to the garden on the roof. Hearts heavy from the constant reminders of everything we went through, along with pained eyes and swallowed sobs, we comfort each other with gentle hugs and soft words of reassurance that all the hell truly has finished. Most of the times it works- it's our little routine now. We can and will cope, especially with our own little bubble of happy we've made.   

So when I hear Katniss lightly starting to hum Deep in the Meadow under her breath, I know that despite all we do to bury the feeling and memories of all that happened to us, it'll come back to is in small little bits. The lullaby Katniss hums right now, the Mockingjay pin that rests on our bedroom mantel, the Rues and Primroses planted in our garden- they're all little symbols of the Games and Revolution that are a daily presence in our lives. The emotions they stir inside of us are not of weakness, but of acceptance and the truth of what really happened. So if we manage to see these everyday without having our fragile resiliences snap or shatter to pieces, I know that we'll be good, Katniss and I... we'll be just fine.