The Hunger games - I'm still breathing (Everlark)

Chapter 26

Prim stands alone in an un-dug grave. Her eyes look helplessly up into mine. Fear, terror, desperation. They are all written into her expression but she doesn't say anything. Tears roll down her porcelain cheeks. It's like she is frozen in time, nothing moves apart from her blinking eye-lids.

President Snow and President Coin stand on either side of the hole, a shovel in their hands. Wicked smiles are plastered on to their faces.

"Sit back and enjoy the show, miss Everdeen," they say in union together.

They begin to fill in the hole, causing the soil to rain down on my baby sister. They're burying her alive.

Everything in me is screaming to move forward, to help her, to just do something. But I, too, am frozen to the spot. My limbs won't co-operate with my mind, who is telling them to reach down and pull her out. I am nothing but dead weight. I can't even speak, my voice is paralysed.

I try to push against whatever unnatural force is holding me back. My sister's distraught face is all I need to power me on. My muscles burn with the effort but I can feel it working. My fierce determination is driving a wedge through the air, I'm getting closer to her. There seems to be a tear for every second that I waste staining my cheeks. I'm so close.

Then I fall. Down into the grave, face-first. I spit a mouthful of dirt out while I clamber on to my feet. Relief and hope flood through me. I can move again. I can save Prim. I turn in her direction, expecting her to fall into my arms. But she's not there. I'm alone.

"You left me, Katniss."

I turn my head upwards, towards the voice that gives me a new feeling of dread. Prim stands above me, her innocent face looking tormented.

"You left me in Coin's hands, you were supposed to protect me," she cries.

"I'm sorry, Prim! I tried to protect you, I thought you would be safe in District 13," I shout back up at her, a lump forming in my throat. "I'm here now though, help me out and I'll make sure nothing happens to you again."

"It's too late," she says, shaking her head. She's turning away from me, she's walking away.

"Prim no! I'm sorry, Prim! Please don't leave me!" I sob, attempting to climb up the muddy walls. It crumbles beneath me though, sending me tumbling to the floor again.

At some point the soil starts to come flying down on me. Covering my feet, my knees, my waist. It's my turn to be buried alive, my turn to die. All the while I keep calling Prim's name, calling her back to me. She never comes.

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"Katniss, it's okay! Prim's in a better place, she's safe, it's okay!" Peeta is trying to console me, trying to pull me into him but I can't do it.

  I push him away from me and perch myself on the edge of the bed. Everything she said was true, I couldn't protect her and I didn't look after her. I press the palms of my hands into my eyes, so hard that all I can see is bright spots dancing in my vision.  It doesn't stop the tears that run through the gaps between my fingers and splash down into my lap.  

Peeta has his arm wrapped around my shoulders, whispering the same words over and over again.

"It's okay, it will all be okay."

"No!" I suddenly shout, wrenching myself out of his grasp and striding across to the other side of the room. I lean against the windowsill, giving my shaking legs some support, before turning back to face him. 

"Why are we pretending that everything is okay? Everything is not okay, it will never be okay!" I'm screaming and yelling at him like a crazy person and I don't know why.

I am so angry, so angry that our lives could never be ours to live. That even though things are better now, we will never be the same. We won't ever be able to forget the things we've seen and done. I'm not angry with Peeta but he's the only one who's here in my self-destructive warpath and if I go down, I know that he will go down with me.

Peeta gives up trying to calm me after a few attempts and takes my previous position on the edge of the bed. I continue to cry and to rant everything that is wrong in the world to him. I tell him it's not him that I'm mad at, that it is the games that make me mad. How children were forced to fight and die for 75 years. How they've left people broken beyond repair. He says nothing, just stares at me with his big blue eyes. He knows nothing he says will shut me up now, he's just going to have to wait it out.

"I can't do this," I say when I'm done.

I get up from the windowsill and make my way to Prim's bedroom. I curl up into a ball on her bed, holding one of her pillows close to me. It still smells like her. If I close my eyes, I can make myself believe that she is really here in my arms.

"I'm so sorry, Prim, please forgive me," I sob. I bury my head into her pillow, trying to spare the empty houses in the victor's village the sound of grief cutting me to the core.

I hear Prim's door creaking open and I sluggishly lift my head up to meet Peeta's concerned gaze. He holds his arms up to me but doesn't move. His gesture is asking for my permission to let him be there for me again. He's giving me the choice. I nod my head slowly before crumpling into a blubbering mess again. He's by my side without hesitation, rocking me back and forth.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean the things I said to you," I say into his shirt.

"I know, it doesn't matter, you don't have anything to be sorry for. I understand what it's like and you're right, it's not okay. Nothing that happened was okay," he says, his chin resting on the top of my head.

"I'm selfish, I'm so wrapped up in my own screwed up mind that I'm not there for you when I know that you've lost people too! I'm sorry," I say, getting myself more worked up.

"Hey, just stop. I've already told you you don't need to be sorry. We've both lost people, we both grieve in our own ways. You've never not been there for me," he says, stroking my hair back.

"I wish things could have been different," I mumble.

"Me too," he says.

I lay down again, pulling Peeta behind me. His arm slinks around my waist and his hand grips on to mine, tightly.

"We'll get through tomorrow together, I promise," Peeta whispers.

"Please don't break that promise," I say, snuggling even closer into him.