Chapter 24

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What if?

What if things will never go back to the way they were? What if Peeta can never forgive me for my lies? What if it will forever be like this? Me alone in my house, when Sophie is long gone... If she ever leaves to go to her real home.... What if I shall forever live in this isolation of depression, never to be freed by any happiness? Destined to die alone? What if there's no going back now? What if there is too much damage to repair?

What if? What if? What if..........

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I sit alone, in the silence of my house. A single creak in the floorboards sounds loud as it echoes down the empty hallway. The wind blows outside the window, slamming against the glass sand hoping to gain entry. The whole house has fallen into silence as if abandoned, like me. I am curled up beneath the stairs, knees to chest, head to the wall and fingers looking for something to clutch, something to help me desperately hold on to life itself. But the only thing beneath me is the marble tiles and behind me the wall. I've spent days here, so long I don't actually know how many days I've spent in this exact spot. Sophie is with Haymitch and Effie, since the beginning of the week. I had a mental breakdown. I begged them to take her away from the horrifying sight before her. So they did. I will go for her when I'm ready, ready to pull myself together.... If the time will ever come. The winter is rolling in, it's been 2 entire months since I last saw Peeta. I know it's time to accept the facts, he seems to have. I just can't bring myself toward the thought of him hating me forever, always seeing me for what I've been to him, a liar and a traitor. And I really really don't want that. But if that's the way its going to be then there is nothing I can do, I can't erase what I have done. It's time to pick myself up. If I allow myself to fall again then it won't be recovery I see but death. And if I die, then I'm letting Snow win. And I am not going to let that happen. So I push myself to my feet, despite the aching pain of my body that has been emptied of all energy. I go into the kitchen and make a fruit salad considering it's only 12 O'Clock. My stomach soon refuses it but I feel the restoration of some energy. I then grab a brush and go into the living room. I brush up the shards of broken glass in which I smashed a few days ago. I then make my way upstairs and into the bathroom. I peel off my sweaty clothed I've been wearing for the last week and throw them to the files before climbing into the shower. I close my eyes like always. Because I can't bear the sight of my own body. The scars that when the clothes are gone reveal themselves. I hate them, I hate the way they define myself, my life story. But I can't hide from them forever. I use my fingers to dig through the clumps and knots of hair, massaging the shampoo into my scalp. I climb out of the shower after washing the shampoo and conditioner out of my hair and wrap a towel around me. I use my free hand to wipe the steam from the mirror. I see myself. Dark under eyes, pale skin. But this is good for me, this is my usual look unfortunately. But I feel fresher and more alert. I comb my wet strands of hair once I'm dressed. They hang perfectly past my shoulders. I fashion it into a wet braid. And then look again. It feels wrong. It's part of my image. It's how people have known me in the games, in the rebellion. Katniss, with the braid, with the bow. I want to be me. No more being known from the rebellion or the games. I want to be me. And that's went my eyes catch them. The pair of scissors on the edge of the marble sink. I grab them, run my finger along the cold metal. I then put them back down, take out my braid and begin to cut...

 After that I walk out of the room, leaving a pile of my cut hair on the sink

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After that I walk out of the room, leaving a pile of my cut hair on the sink. I put on a coat before I begin to make my way to Haymitch's. To get my Sophie home.

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Peeta's POV

I sit on my stool and steady my hand holding the paint brush. I begin to stroke the brush along the canvas, asking myself what I'm going to paint. Katniss. The first word that registers in my mind. I shake my head immediately. Don't be stupid, I tell myself, it's about time I get over her. But as I try and try to remove it the name continues to repeat itself in my mind.
Katniss, Katniss, Katniss...
Then I lose it, flinging a fist full of paintbrushes from the jar in front of me at the wall. This isn't the first time I've done this, caused destruction. Since the incident my flashbacks have doubled, sleep has never came most nights and if it has it becomes a night of broken sleep. The paintbrushes hit the Windows, splattering paint across the glass. I put my head in my hands and sigh aggressively with frustration. I walk out of the room. I go into the kitchen and fumble in the cupboard until I find the little tub. I shake out 2 of the blue tablets onto my palm. I take a sip of water before knocking them back. I do this once a day. Dr. Aurelius gave them to me before I left the Capitol to prevent flashbacks. I take them daily now as at this time they have doubled. I walk over to the sink and begin to wash the dishes whilst gazing out the window before me. And that's when I see her. Exiting her house. With her hair cut up to her shoulders.....

What if?- A Mockingjay StoryWhere stories live. Discover now