The Children Who Play In The Meadow

CHAPTER FOUR.

Peeta and I are walking toward Haymitch's house, with Willow in Peeta's arms. My palms start to sweat, even though the air is crisp outside. I don't know how Haymitch is going to react, I would be pretty pissed off if I were him as well. I open the door, half-expecting to hear empty bottles clanking together as we trapes through them, but instead there is nothing. It is completely spotless. Wow, Hazelle must be doing an amazing job with the place.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is! Good to see you're not dead, sweetheart. How long has it been now? Five, six weeks?" Haymitch calls sarcasticly from the other room.

"Oh, don't be so hypocritical, Haymitch. If you really wanted to see us you could've. Or have you been too drunk?" I spit back at him. That shuts him up. Instead of answering, he takes Willow from Peeta and gives her a hug. "Well, hello sweetie. How ya' doing?" They make baby noises at each other until Haymitch snaps back into reality.

Before he can say anything insulting, I shove the letter Gale gave me at his chest. "Here. Read this." Haymitch opens the letter and reads it, muttering to himself.

He looks back up, pain in his eyes. "what's wrong, Haymitch?" I ask. I can tell that he's worried about something. "Take a seat, sweetheart." He orders, softer with me than usual.

I do as he asks, Peeta follows. "Effie called. Said that there was an emergency. I asked her what it was but she just started blubbering, and i couldn't get her to calm down. When I finally did, she told me that there was a memorial that we all have to attend," Haymitch looks down at his hands. A memorial? Who for?

"Who is the memorial for?" Peeta asks. When Haymitch looks back up, his eyes look dark. "Plutarch-" Haymitch can't finish. He was close to Plutarch. I can't believe it. He couldn't have died. How? 

"What happe- How did this- It couldn't have." I stumble over my own words, baffled and saddened all at once. Me. This must have been my fault. Another name to throw into the large pool of people i killed.. 

"He overdosed on some drug they use in the Capitol. You take it once, and then I guess you're hooked. Fatal." Haymitch has to leave the room. I've never seen him like this. 

"When is it? The memorial?" Peeta calls to Haymitch. We get no answer. Wait, who will look after Willow? My mother isn't exactly in the most stable condition at the moment. We can't take her. 

I look up to see Peeta leave the room, probably to go talk to Haymitch. When he returns, he tells me that the memorial will be held in four days. ".. we need to take Willow. He'd like that. Plutarch would." In a way, I get his point, but this comment infuriates me. There is no way in hell that I am letting my baby into the Capitol. Not. Going. To. Happen. 

"What?! You'd even consider that for our baby?!-" I can feel myself heating up. Of all people, Peeta. He knows up front what they can be like. "Katniss, nothing will happen to Willow. She will be safe with us the entire time. We'll go to the memorial, say hello to a few people, then come straight back." Peeta says. I know, deep down, that Willow will most likely be fine.

The war is over I tell myself it's over. There is no more Snow. No more Coin. No more Hunger Games. I find myself panicking, for no particular reason. But, like always, Peeta is there to comfort me. Of course, we both know he can't stop it. The flashbacks. But we can be there for each other. My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am thirty two years old. I was in The Hunger Games. I escaped. The Capitol hated me. I was the Mockingjay. The face of the rebellion. Snow is dead. I killed Coin. I killed Finnick. I killed Prim. Why did I let that happen? I start sobbing. I can't control it. Haymitch is in the room now, obviously concerned. But he can't help me. No one can. Peeta is the only person I want, or need right now. I start thinking of all of the nice things i've seen people do the past week. It helps, kind of. The last thing I remember before I black out is Peeta kissing the top of my head. 

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A/N! SOSOSOSOSOSOSO SORRY I HAVENT POSTED, in like, a year whoops. 

I'm not going to say that I was busy, bc I wasn't. I mean, like at all. I just forgotttttt.

again, i'm sorry! Ill update more

xoxox ily.

R.I.P PHILIP SEYMOUR HOFFMAN. 

-Chloe