Maybe It Can Be Real

Chapter 67

Ending of last chapter:

"You should try to get some sleep. I know you're more tired than you're letting on because of Willow," he says. I start to protest but he holds up a hand. "I'll get her if she starts crying. I can handle her a bit better than you can," he tells me pointedly, knowing that I understand he's joking, with some truth mixed in.

Closing my eyes, I murmur, "I love you, Peeta." I want to say, Thank you for putting me back together, but I'm already asleep by the time he reciprocates I love you.

****

I fall into step with the soldiers clothed in black next to me, guns swinging from our hands and boots stirring up the dirt on the path we walk on. My bow and quiver are also strapped to my back, but all my arrows are missing.

All shot straight through people's hearts.

I slowly, methodically wipe my hand off on my pants leg to rid it of the blood that stains it. My steps are in sync with those next to me. I breathe in, out. In, out. Everything now has to be done with a rhythm, without thought, because I know that I wouldn't be able to focus otherwise. I wouldn't be able to control the maelstrom of emotions I'm trying so hard to keep at bay inside me.

Get your task done, deal with the emotions later. That's the only way to survive. The only way to finally kill Snow.

Up ahead, all of the soldiers stop in their tracks, some of them turning back to look at me with concern filling their eyes. I give them a look as I pass. They know the mission - they're the ones who agreed that this needed to happen. It's too late for them to regret their decisions.

I plant my feet on the ground in front of Snow, switching the safety in my gun off. If only I had one arrow left. Just one - how perfect that would have been to close this circle that opened the moment I had to start hunting for our own food.

I roll my eyes, scoffing, when I see that Snow has the nerve to be frightened and begging for his own life, when he had no qualms about taking all of those innocent lives. "Death isn't a bad enough punishment for you. But nothing will ever make up for taking all of those innocent lives away from scared and starving children."

"Katniss, I don't know what you're talking about. Please, I didn't kill all those people! I'm not Snow!", Snow yells, trying to come closer to me. Too bad his hands are tied above him to the pole. "Please, I didn't kill-"

But he doesn't finish his sentence, because I pull the trigger before he does. And when the bullet hits him, he sags down, pulling at the ropes holding him up.

And that's when I see that it's Peeta dead in front of me, not Snow.

****

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!", I scream, jolting myself awake. The bedsheets are twisted all around my legs, and sweat is plastering my clothes and hair to my skin. My scream continues, a loud guttural and animal sound, because I can still see Peeta's dead body in front of me. Dead because of me.

"Katniss, hey! Hey, hey hey!", Peeta yells, gripping my wrists and pulling my shaky hands away from my hair. He holds them both in one hand while the other grips my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Katniss, you are o-kay," he says with emphasis. "It is not real, whatever you're seeing. It's just a nightmare. It can't hurt you."