I don't know how long it's been. Since I died, I mean. The fire...I shudder just thinking about it.
I've already visited Gale in District Two. Posy, Vick, and Hazelle all live with him. I don't know where Rory is. I'd rather not. It'll make all of this easier. I wouldn't be able to handle it.
I- literally- walk through Katniss and Peeta's front door. Their house was fairly easy to find, especially since there's a little girl and a little boy playing tag in the front yard.
So. Katniss is a mother. That means I'd be an aunt, if I was still alive. I walk into the kitchen, where Katniss is cooking what looks like a stew that we used to eat all the time, and Peeta is baking bread. "Is Rory coming?"
"Yeah," Peeta smiles, "He should be here any minute." My heart drops and hits the floor. Just then the door opens, and the house is filled with the sounds of a man's laughter and two children squealing "Uncle Rory!" again and again.
Then he walks into the kitchen, smiling at Katniss and Peeta. I immediately smooth down my blonde hair, until I remember that he can't see me, that no one can.
He looks more like Gale, now that he's older. Dark hair that hits his eyebrows. Olive skin. Gray eyes. He's just as...handsome as when we were younger. Well, when he was younger. I'm stuck at thirteen.
"Hey Kat." He gives her a lopsided smile. I look into the hall, wondering where his wife or girlfriend is. It takes me a minute to realize that he doesn't have one.
"Okay kids, wash up." Katniss says and hugs Rory. Once they're gone, she looks at him curiously. "How are you?" she asks.
Rory sits on one of the wooden stiools. "Same as I was almost fifteen years ago." He sighs.
"So you've been counting." Peeta observes.
"What else can I do? She's gone." He looks ready to cry. They all fall silent.
"We all loved Prim." Katniss says finally. Her voice is thick with sadness, and she stares out the kitchen window by the sink, gripping the counter tightly.
"Not like I did." Rory replies. The way he says it makes my heart break. My sister opens her mouth to say something back, but gets cut off by the kids running into the room.
"Okay, dinner time!" Peeta shouts, easily slipping back into the role of the happy, carefree father.
They all go into the dining room and start to eat. I watch them for a minute, memorizing every detail. I find it odd, how quickly the mood had shifted from somber to joyful.
I will always remember them this way: happy, but weighed down by grief. I turn away from them, looking at the white light that has appeared in the kitchen. I wonder, for a moment, if every tribute that has died in the Hunger Games has felt this way.
"I'll be waiting for you." I whisper before taking a deep breath and stepping into the light. At first, there is nothing. Then I'm gone.
