An Unfinished Battle (The Hunger Games FanFiction)

Chapter 16

The tendrils of sleep pull me under, farther and farther into unconsciousness. It's the most peaceful I've felt going to bed in a long time; tucked beneath Peeta's arm, pressed against his body, a whisper of a kiss left lingering on my lips, and the most comforting of all, the promise of our love wrapped infinitely around my finger.

It overcomes me all at once. I'm pulled all the way into a deep, nightmare-free slumber.

-

When I awaken the sun shines high in the sky, indicating that it's way past morning. I sit up and pull my frazzled hair out of my eyes, and glance over at the clock.

11:15?! How did I sleep I so late? I never sleep this late, not even when I'm up all night. I can't complain though, it was the most peaceful nights rest I had had in a long time and my dreams were happy. I roll over in the bed and stretch, finding the other side of the mattress unmistakably cold-- unmistakably bare.

My heart imediatly sinks to my stomach and a horrid flashback of the night at the hotel slips into my mind, but I force myself to calm down. It's really late in the morning, I'm sure that Peeta rose early. He's probably downstairs fixing lunch or something.

I groan as I roll out of bed. My body is stiff from staying still for so long. I stretch and straighten out my T-shirt. I stuff my feet into the fleece slippers that rest a the foot of the bed and shuffle my way down stairs.

The smell of bacon wafts through the air. I smile, Peeta must be up hard at work cooking me a breakfast. God, he gets better and better everyday. I contemplate on going back to bed, and wait for him to serve me breakfast in bed like he does every so often, but I can't wait that long to see him.

"Good Morning," I chirk as I make my way through the dining room towards the kitchen.

"Good morning, Katniss," a voice replies.

I stop in my tracks, that is not Peeta's voice. It's my mother's. My happiness slips a little farther away from me, as I force my self further into the kitchen. "What are you making?" I ask, trying not to let my disappointment of Peeta's absence shine through.

"Oh, I'm just fixing up some breakfast for you, I figured the smell would wake you up," she laughs, "We ate hours ago, you slept for ages, Girly! What's gotten into you? You've never slept that long, not even when you were just a tiny thing."

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to hold in my anger. I try not to be mad at my mom, I really do. I mean, we just made up and all, and I'm trying not to ruin it. I want her to stop pretending like she knows me, because she doesn't. She wouldn't know how late or how early I sleep these days, she hasn't been apart of my life in years. She knows who I used to be, not who I am now. "Thanks," I reply, forcing a slight smile.

There's a brief moment of awkward slience as my mother slaves away over the stove. I glance around the house, "So," I say, "Umm, Where's Peeta?"

My mother stop scrambling the eggs in the frying pan and purses her lips. She wrings her bony hands on her apron as her eyes nervously flutter around.

My stomach coils into a knot, "Mom?"

"He's gone," she sighs, "He left early this morning, we thought it would be the best decision for the both of you if he just left. He left you a note if you want to read it." She gestures towards the counter.Sure enough, there's a little paper square sitting next the the kitchen sink.

I'm speechless. I knew this was coming, but I didn't want it to be so soon. I wanted time, just one more day-- One more day with Peeta. I wanted to say goodbye, but maybe that's we he left. Maybe it was too hard to say goodbye. Sometimes it's easier just to get the hardships in life over with rather than to just sugarcoat them.