Aloe Mellark: The Hunger Games Epilogue

The Mockingjay: Epilogue

They play in the meadow. The dancing girl with the dark hair and blue eyes. The boy with blonde curls anf grey eyes, struggling to keep up with her on his chubby toddler legs. It took five, ten, fifteen years for me to agree. But Peeta wanted them so badly. When I first felt her stirring inside me, I was consumed with terror that felt as old as life itself. Carrying him was a little easier, but not much.
The questions are just beginning. The arenas have been completely destroyed, the memorials built, there are no more Hunger Games. But they teach about them at school, and the girl knows we played a role in them. The boy will know in a few years. How do I tell them about that world without frightening them to death? My children, who take the words of the song for granted:

Deep in the meadow, under the willow
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow
Lay down your head, and rest your sleepy eyes
And when again they open, the sun will rise.

Here it's safe, here it's warm
Here the dashes guard you from every harm

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you.

My children, who don't know they play on a graveyard.
Peeta says it will be okay. We have each other. And the book. We can make them understand in a way that will make them braver. But one day I'll have to explain about my nightmares. Why they came. Why they'll never go away.
I'll tell them how I survive it . I'll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything becouse I'm afraid it could be taken away. That's when I make a list in my head of every good active seen someone do. It's like a game. Repetitive. Even little tedious after more than twenty years. But there are much worse games to play.