Justice, the 4th hunger games book, the story after mockingjay

Chapter forty-eight

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If you haven't got anything more constructive to say please don't bother.

It really makes me angry and if i get another person telling me more! or update! I won't write anymore.

Chapter forty-eight

“She looks so peaceful when she sleeps doesn’t she?” It’s Marc talking. I must have dosed off, I’m just so comfortable that I don’t want to let me awake state known just yet.

“She only seems to be able to sleep properly when I am around.” He is consciously trying to keep his voice low to reduce the risk of me waking.

“Why?”

“We need each other. Having been through so much we are the only other person, besides Haymitch, who truly understands. The nightmares are the worst thing. The constant reminders everytime you close your eyes, with everything you see. There is always something the will remind you of someone you killed or saw die. We have spent most of our adult lives protecting each other. It’s what we do. We can only truly sleep when we know the other is safe and the only way we know the other is safe is when we are touching. It’s like a subconscious thing. The games really mess with you, no one ever truly wins them. Sometimes I wonder if it would have all been better if we had both just died in the first games. I think they get the better end of the deal. The only reason I didn’t die was because of her. I vowed to stay alive for her, like she did for me. We keep each other going.”

“You truly believe there are no real victors?” Asks Marc.

“Yes. I have spoken to my fair share over the years.”

“But I remember Finnick Odair, he always seemed larger than life, happy to please. A Capitol favourite.”

“That’s what the Capitol wanted you to see. Finnick was forced into a lot of things. He was sold by the Capitol. Yes he was given riches but he was never free. He was forced to spend time with the highest bidder. The Capitol threatened the ones he loved. They would get hurt if he didn’t comply. It was the same with every victor. We were all just Capitol puppets, fearful for our loved ones lives.”

“So you would have rather died in your first games?”

“No. Though I think Katniss and myself are the only victors who would say that. I know what happened and I know what we all went through was truly the worst thing imaginable. Being forced to fight to the death at the age of sixteen but I wouldn’t change anything for the world.”

“Why?”

“Easy. I wouldn’t have the life we all have now if it wasn’t for the games. I wouldn’t have Katniss.”

“You both must live. You both must make it out alive.”

“What about you?”

“Like you said, there are no winners and I believe you. My winning will be knowing that I have done all I can to make sure you both make it out alive because I do truly believe that the both of you are two of the strongest people I have ever known. Panem needs you and I believe you are a couple of the only people who can live with the games.”

I decide it is time to wake myself up and I begin to wriggle in Peeta’s arms.

“Hey.” He whispers smiling down at me in his arms.

“Hey.”

“How’d you sleep?” I frown. I didn’t think I had been out that long.

“You have been asleep for a couple of hours. It’s just nearing nightfall, not that you would be able to tell. The blizzard is still bad out there. If it keeps this up I don’t know how anyone is going to be able to reach the cornucopia tomorrow. The snow is already covering half the door.” Peeta fills me in.

“Have you eaten?” I ask stretching out I notice that I only have one of the sleeping bags round me. Marc has the other which I am slightly glad about I would have felt bad if I had stolen all of the warming supplies.  

“No, we wanted to wait for you to wake up.”

“We also weren’t too sure what to do with the food.” Adds Marc.

“Marc also scoped out upstairs and the roof while you were sleeping by the way. We are going to need to keep shifts to keep a path clear to the roof though. Since the snow is so deep I would suggest that we move up to the second floor.” Peeta fills me in.

“I think you’re right, though I think that we should try and melt some snow and eat down here where it’s going to be slightly warmer and the light of the fire we can make won’t be seen due to the weather and the warmth might help us all that little bit.” I add.

Quickly agreeing on what we are going to do we set about piling the small amount of kindling we have into one of the parachute containers and Peeta sets about lighting it while Marc fills the other one with snow. We decide to melt the snow and use the warm water to warm us up slightly as well as quench some of our thirst.

“Here.” Says Marc as he hands e a canister full of snow.

“Thanks.” Using my gloves to protect my fingers from the warmth of the fire I hold the metal canister above the fire which is now slowly burning.

“Let me do it. Bakers fingers, remember?” Peeta says as me moves to take the canister from my hands.

“Right.” I mutter as I now make myself busy with the dehydrated food.

Within no time we have warm food and warm water heating us up significantly. We all force ourselves to eat all the dehydrated food even though we are all exceedingly full after only a couple of bites. Conversation is minimal as we tuck into our feast, all of us trying our best to warm up and then stay warm. I have a sleeping bag round my feet as does Marc and Peeta has the spare Jacket. As soon as we have finished we put out the fire ensure our belongings are all packed and remove any signs of us ever being on this lower floor.

“I’ll take first watch.” I say

“I’ll stay up with you; I’m not going to be able to sleep any time soon.” Replies Peeta.

“Guess I’ll get a couple of hours in then.” Remarks Marc as he tries to make himself as comfortable as possible in the corner. One good thing about moving up to the second floor is the heat from the small fire and our body heat seems to have warmed the room slightly.