*HUGE DISCLAIMER* I WROTE THIS WHEN I WAS 12YRS OLD, SO EXCUSE GRAMMAR AND CRINGINESS
What if.....?
Katniss has finally returned to District 12 both haunted and shattered by the past knowing the peace gained does not supply her with security and ha...
What if? What if he's says no? What if I say no? But what if I owe him this? Owe him some happiness? What if its my turn to give him happiness? What if? What if? What if? -- "What should I do?"
I say. Sophie is on my lap, holding her teddy and bouncing a little. Haymitch who is sitting on the other side of the table with Effie replies
"I don't know... I don't see how you could make it work. Unless you would consider a nanny or something"
A nanny? I shift uncomfortably on my seat. I couldn't imagine leaving Sophie with a stranger everyday. The guilt and worries would swallow me up. So in my eyes that's not an option. To say that I give a small moan and shake my head. Effie says
"Is it what you want, the job?"
I sigh
"I don't know"
I guess it really hasn't been about getting a job. It never was. It was Peeta wanting to spend more time with me, an accuse to spend more time with me. But if it's want I really want is something I don't know... Haymitch says
"Well I think first you need to decide where this is going. With him. Because you obviously realise where this will lead if you say yes. It's now your choice whether you take that step or not"
I sigh. The real question in my mind is Am I ready for the next step? ---
I walk through the woods on the bright Sunday morning. The air is cold making my breath a soft smoke like cloud. The snow from yesterday is melting away in the morning sun. My boots make a small crunching sound with each step as branches snap beneath them. My quiver sits across my shoulder, my bow clutched in hand but it still doesn't feel fully normal, fully like it used to be. And I know why. Because it's no longer what it used to be, hunting. It's a sport now, a pastime and a hobby. But before I would come here with my game bag, hoping to shoot what would be the thing to fill my family's stomachs. It was a method for survival. It's the first time I've been back here in weeks. Since Sophie came I have been preoccupied, unable to find the time to escape to the woods once more. Even though it's only been a couple of weeks since I've been here so much feels like it's changed. But the only real big thing that has changed since then is me. The fence has been removed, taken down to allow the woods to be freely open to anyone who would want to enter. It has been replaced with a much smaller wooden fence, not electric charged. Just a fence. I don't shoot animals any more, what's the point? Instead I shoot trees. the bark is my new target. I am walking through the trees after a while of shooting, making my way slowly to the meadow.
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I am coming to the opening, the flowers of the meadow in sight when I see him. Sitting upon a rock looking out over the hills of flowers before him with a sketch book in hand. I turn to walk away but a branch once again snaps beneath my boot again causing him to whip around. He looks at me and smiles. He says softly
"Hey"
"Hi"
I reply. He gestures me to sit beside him on the rock so I do. I look out at the meadow whilst asking him
"Do you come here often?"
Not taking his attention off his drawing he answers
"Every once in a while. It's a good place to draw. What about you? Are you here hunting?"
I take a moment before replying
"No I don't hunt any more"
He then looks up and asks me
"Do you come to the meadow?"
"Not much. I can't help but think it's a graveyard"
He nods and gives me a sad look before drawing once again. I continue
"I come here to..... how do I say it?"
He says putting his art things away into a bag by his feet
"Free yourself"
I look at him. He puts his hand to the back of my neck and pushes my head forward so my forehead touches his. His breath is warm on my face. I raise my eyes to look into his. He has a slightly pained as he says
"I can tell that's something's going on with you. And I just wish that you trusted me enough to tell me"
He sighs a little before whispering
"Why don't you trust me?"
Now's your chance, I tell myself. Now's your chance to open up to him, to tell him everything and for the first time be fully honest with him. But I can't. I say to him
"I do trust you Peeta, I do.... I just have a lot going on in my head that I need to sort out"
He looks down, disappointed and I can't blame him. He gets up silently and takes his stuff in his hand. He then turns back again, his face sad and says
"I just want you to be able to trust me no matter what"
He then walks away and I'm left alone on the rock with a horrible weight of guilt sitting on my shoulders. The only question on my mind now is
