A Dandelion In The Sun {Watty Awards 2012}

A Dandelion In The Sun

I stared at the ashes of my little sister, horrified beyond any sense of normality as the scream built in intensity. It lodged in my throat, and I was unable to let it loose. I ran toward the ashes, wanting to hold on to any vestige left of Prim.

The muttations from my first Hunger Games advanced on me, not allowing me to pass to get to her. I desperately needed to get to her.

I grabbed an arrow and set it arcing straight into the eye of the mutt closest to me and when it fell with a horrid growl it was Rue. "No!" I choked, letting loose more arrows in anger and grief at the other mutts, but they all turned into someone I had come to care for.

Rue. Cinna. Finnick. Darius. Madge.

Sobbing at the sight of my dead friends' I still tried to run to Prim, but her ashes fluttered in the breeze and blew away before I could reach them.

The scream that was lodged in my throat broke free and the piercing shrieks rent the air.

My body jackknifed upward, my throat burning as the screams continued clawing their way out. The door of my bedroom flew open as I struggled frantically with the sheets twisted around my body.

"Katniss," a soft voice said. "Sssh, I'm here. You're okay."

I fought against the arms, lashing out in fear as thoughts of mutts and President Snow tried to swamp my mind. Finally, the tone and familiarity of the voice penetrated the fog of fear that had settled over me. I would know that voice anywhere, and I began to relax.

The tears rolled down my cheeks in an unending stream as Peeta cautiously wrapped his arms around me. I sank into his sturdy warmth as I cried over the loss of the many lives of people I loved; especially Prim. Sweet, loving Prim.

"I'm never going to be okay," I managed to say through my tears. "I keep dreaming of her, of losing her, and it hurts Peeta. It hurts so much I can hardly stand it."

He held me tightly, stroking the damp strands of hair clinging to my forehead back, until I was too worn out to do anything but lie limply against him.

"How did you even know?" I mumbled. My eyelids felt heavy as exhaustion hit me.

"I heard you, Katniss. I wasn't sleeping," he whispered. "I'll replace the window by your door tomorrow."

I smiled a little at his determination to get to me as we sank down onto my bed. "Will you stay? It might help you get some sleep," I whispered. I knew he saw through that – I wanted him to stay for selfish reasons – but I just wasn't good at saying what I really wanted to say.

"Of course," he whispered back without even a blink of his eye, and I felt the brush of his lips against my forehead.

He tightened his arms around me, and I rested my head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. I felt better with the comfort of his steady warmth next to me again, the thump of his heart in my ear, and felt myself drifting into a sleep where nightmares didn't quite reach me.

This was how Peeta and I began sleeping together again.

Our lives continued to move on and we tried to deal with the grief together. Peeta began baking again, though most of the time he spent doing so was in one of our houses, while a new bakery was being built. He planned to take over his father's duties as the town's baker and was waiting for the project to be completed.

In the meantime, I was happy with the smell and supply of his cheese buns. He also spent a lot of time painting; he had supplies in his home and some at mine.

We had decided after some time that we should make another book to remember all of our friends by the one day, and we had started work on it immediately. We assembled the pages and sifted through photographs we had managed to procure recently. I was flipping through pages one morning in Peeta's kitchen - after a restless night for the both of us - as Peeta sketched a picture of Annie and Finnick with their arms wound around each other.