Stay • Everlark (REVAMPING)

1. peeta (revamped)

Katniss:
There's something about the pain in the pit of my stomach that I'll never get used to. In the days since I've come home, it's consumed me. I haven't moved in months and I don't care to. I'm wearing the same clothes since I got back, haven't showered and have halved in body weight.

People come in and out, Haymitch, Greasy Sae and her dreamy granddaughter. They've told me that Gale ran away to District 2, working to keep security and I assume he's probably kissing another pair of lips. My Mother, I know, will never be able to come back here because of the pain. She's working in District 4 in the new hospital and I can almost picture her working overtime and sleeping on chairs all to try and forget. But me? I've been reliving that day every day for the last 6 months, it's there every time I close my eyes.

If I was doing this alone, I'd be dead. Sae forces food down my throat every chance she gets and Haymitch won't let me have some peace. I'm so exhausted every day and when I sleep there's no relief in waking up. I just get on with it, living the same self loathe cycle forever.

As if right on time, Haymitch bursts through the door and sits on the arm of the chair opposite me. I'm tempted to pull the shawl over my head and ignoring it until it goes away, but I could do without the constant headache.

"Sweetheart, why am I not surprised that you're in the same position as you were three days ago?" He complains, looking at me with blatant disapproval. He's visibly hungover, and he reeks of white liquor. The liquor store has stopped selling to Haymitch and the supply of alcohol is limited, but on the night it comes, it's all gone the next day.

With my ounce of strength, I pull myself into a sitting position and rub my eyes. "I'm surprised you remember it. That's 3 years in Haymitch time." I croak, the first words I've said for three days.

"You'll never lose the attitude, no matter how depressed you are. Look, I get it, you're depressed and you have every right to be. But you can't lie here moping around till it kills you." Haymitch says, a sense of urgency in his voice, almost worry.

"It's what I'm counting on." I reply, which is only half true. My wish to die isn't as strong as it was when I was on trial for murder, but the offer to join my sister doesn't avoid me.

"You know what? We can have this conversation another day because that's not why I'm here. It's been six months, but I'd thought you'd want to know that Peeta has been cleared to come home. He was getting treatment from the Capitol doctors so I'd like to think he's not entirely hijacked anymore." Haymitch tells me.

I don't react. I've pushed his name so far down into my bottomless pit that I haven't thought about him in weeks, like he doesn't exist. Like I haven't sobbed over the fact that he's not here to tell me that it'll all be okay. That his arms aren't here to hold me. You never think about human contact and how important it is. You don't learn until you don't have it.

Peeta hasn't been with me for a long, long time. I still find it disturbing that  I can almost see him doing the most basic things he always does. I see him cutting bread in the kitchen, I see him painting a sunset, I feel his hands tying knots in my hair next to that sunset. The thought alone is enough to bring a sob up into my throat, which is exactly why I don't think about him. Because he's everywhere with her. Peeta and Prim are everywhere.

I can feel myself starting to erupt. "Leave." I mumble only loud enough so Haymitch can hear me.

"Katniss, just listen." He interferes.

"LEAVE!" I scream at him, grabbing a glass and throwing it in his direction.

"I can't face him, don't make me do this." I scream again, almost to myself.

Haymitch puts his hands in front of his body and runs out of the door. Usually when I'm like this, he'll hold me down and let me cry and thrash. When it's to do with Peeta, he knows that I'm unreachable.

I clench my fists and rub the hot tears coming from my eyes raw, persuaded that it'll take the pain away. My breathing quickens and my body shakes, the usual signs of a breakdown. Until I hear a noise in the corner.

I whip my head around to see what it is and a ginger body slithers it's way through the window. Buttercup - my sisters cat - has come back at the most convenient time. I grab the shawl and weakly hold it around my frame, walking towards the cat.

"Prim is gone." I tell him, that's all he's here for. Prim, the sweet owner that gave him enough love to last a lifetime.

He just meows and cocks his head to the side.

"Prim is gone!" I shout again, the anger turning into plain upset.

"Prim is gone, you stupid cat, she's not coming back." I whimper, taking Buttercup into my arms and scratching his chin. He stays because he sympathises with the one he hated. This is because the only thing we had in common has been taken away, leaving us both to the confides of each other's misery.

I let out a new noise that's half crying and half sobbing and I let myself fall apart into the fur of this cat that who I've despised my whole life.

The realisation that Peeta is coming back hits me like a truck, he's probably forgotten all about me but I almost smile as I'll know where he is. He'll be safe. That's all that matter to me. It is quickly replaced by disappointment. It's been six months, Peeta won't be the person that I'm hoping he will. A whole new life he's built for himself that doesn't include me. I suppose it's payback for taking advantage of him for such a long time, after all, I don't think karma could back to me enough for all I've done.

My name is Katniss Everdeen. I've just turned eighteen years old. My home is District 12. I was in the hunger games. I'm the Mockingjay. I survived. Peeta... Peeta is somewhere, no idea about me. It's probably better that way. It's definitely better that way. For him.