Healing dandelions (an everlark fanfic)

Chapter one: Reaping day

               Buttercup the cat was my alarm clock that day. I found herself in a contorted position in the chair. The letter is on the floor and so is about everything that would be on a chair except my body. The cat wouldnt stop hissing at her for some reason. "Stupid cat Katniss" I say herself. But then I realized something.I didn't have a nightmare that night. She slept soundly. This was a grand feat when it comes to my sanity. I decided a grand award would be going to the woods for the day. I looked outside the dirty window. This place hasnt been inhabited for quite a while so of course it has aconmulated a fine layer of dirt. The sky looks fine. A coating of gray mush is over above today. I was going to go the closet thinking that I smelled fine until I realized I smellled like I haven't bathed in ages. Which in reality, was true. I walk to the bathroom and fill the tub with warm water. I still, to this day, am not used to showering without a bucket. But whatever, it's not like I can reconstruct the lost and untouchable past. It's, literally, ashes right now both in the warfield in my mind and harsh reality, which is the same thing but worst.

                   The water engulfs me in its warm embrace. The heat brings a certain calmness to my body and mind. Like tea and fireplaces. I don't fit completely in this tub so I bring myself to a more upright position, hugging my legs. I look at my legs. Scars decorate it and line it like decor. Lacing it to form my damaged body. It's funny how I could get so hurt so quickly, the makeovers given before the games and naturally any visit from my stylists would remove any trace and disorder on my skin. I personally, favor my scars. The angle of the light coming through the various windows here indicate that I should get a move on.

                  I climb out of the bath and dry myself way too extravagent towels that feels like artificial perfection. I go to the closet and put on my hunting clothes. They feel like a luxury that no district can manufacture. They feel like home. I was on my way out the door but then I find myself looking at the letters all scatered on the floor. I stand there for a while. The thought of reading the letters pull my hair until my hands reach for the wrinkled papers. I should say novel. It's huge. Gosh. I wonder how much free time Gale had on his hands. I stuff it in my bag and open the door outside. The sky emits a gentle silver glow. It gives a sense of calm to my eyes. A plain color scheme to digest. All the house's lights are off except for Peeta's. It's mystery draws me in but my presence in front is a deadly lottery in which I'd rather not play. I make my way cutting through yards and destroyed property making my way to where the fence was. It is strange this liberty. Not having to slide under the hole in the fence. The forest looks more inviting then forbidden this way. All these changes are too much to digest but what can I do. There's no stopping it. I must learn to evolve with the world and blend in to the hellish reality of the world.   I walk slowly in to the foliage. For some reason, I find myself checking all of our old snares and traps. They're all empty. Like the animals of the forest now know they are not needed anymore. It's a bitter feeling. I somehow navigated myself to the lake and sit on where the door of the aging cabin would be. I look at the lake. The last time I was here, the victory tour was amidst and everything was enevenly insane. Nothing much has changed really, just the circumstances. I look to my bag and remember the pile of papers in there. I take them out of my leather bag. My hands look for the next page of this "manly diary" When I found the paper, my eyes go straight to the date. The reaping in which Prim's name was called. It starts with this:

                           When I heard Prim's name I felt as if I died and went to a place worse than hell. When you volunteered I was positive I was there. Cruel. Just Cruel. You barely had any tesseare registered and Prim didn't even register at all. Odds and odds and more odds. There is better odds of me getting reaped, and winning then this. Stricking gold has better odds. Hell, mining my way all the way to the scrorching had better oods than any of this. I feel like I'm drowning in disbelif. Prim, your mom and my family haven't stopped crying. Condolonces are given but don't help whatsoever since we all know they in reality are just relived it wasn't thier child going of to a certain death sentance. I haven't cried, I'm just blank. Emotionless. I can't bring myself to do anything except staring. I'm lost. I drift back and forth from reality and I come back to a limbo. I don't know why I'm writing this but I just hope this makes things easier.

                                 Woah. That was quite emotional. I almost feel sympathy for him. Almost. I decide I feel uncomforable in this position so I stand up. The sky is painted with different shades of white and gray. And the woods around me were a master piece. Nothing needed. It was outstanding. I decide it's time to eat since I havent eaten since, well, yesterday's breakfast. I really need to better my habits. I need to get to normal. Not for Peeta. Not for Prim. For me. I start my trek back to the district. The wind danced with the leaves. Danced to the tune of a mockingjay. I almost could have missed it. It blended in to the sky perfectly, with thier matching grey and white coloring, they looked identical. I decide to whistle rue's tune. And it sang bad with grace. It kept chirping until it made its own version of the melody. And then other birds came in to what was an orchestra. The forest was lively with mockingjays. The outskirts of district 12 were anything but barren.

                                    I come home and I see buttercup with a dead rat at its paws. The cat is good for something I guess. I checked the traps, because lets face it, as long as I go in the woods, I check the traps. It almost comes like instinct. And I see big rabit. It has alot of fat on it, it would make a good meal. But it's when I start cooking it I figure out, it's way too much for me alone. So I decide to bring some for Peeta, thinking he has been surviving on a diet of solely pastries. I knock on his door.

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A/N: BET YOU THOUGHT I WAS NEVER GONNA UPDATE HAHAHHA. So I just recently got on summer break and now i have so much more time to write!!! YAY. OH YEAH and sorry It took me forever to update! I was so busy! (JK I WAS LAZY AS FUCK) And thank you so much for such a good feedback! I'm guessing you guys liked it! Thats awesome cause PREPARE FOR EMOTIONS BITCHES. I'll update as soon as I can!

-Author.