Haymitch and the people from 13 told me that I could return home. But the only things that were there were burnt bodies lying in the streets, and the memories that the people of my district, District 12, had left in my mind, and the minds of those who got out before the bombing.
When I'd arrived back in District 12, I was surprised and yet not at the lingering bodies and the putrid smell. Each and every one of those people had died because of me. I walked myself around the Seam where I broke down at the place where the home that I almost starved to death in would've been. As I wandered, I found myself coming up to the place where Peeta's family bakery was. Oh, Peeta. If only he were here with me now. Even though Gale helped many people escape from the Capitol's bombs, he would never calm me down the way that Peeta would. Remembering the boy with the bread was becoming too much for me. I remembered how he threw me the bread when my entire family was starving. How he saved my life in more than one way. I broke down so much that I'd cried myself to sleep, only to wake up in my bed that was in my home in the Victor's Village.
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I awoke to the clanging of pot ware downstairs, and went towards it. Even though I didn't actually want to eat anything, I knew that it would upset Haymitch and Greasy Sae if I hadn't. The only problem with that was that the person in my home wasn't either of them. At a time like this, I wish I had my bow; that way, I wouldn't feel so vulnerable. Yet, there in the kitchen was my boy with the bread, Peeta Mellark.
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After the Rebellion
FanfictionMy first attempt at a fan fiction of The Hunger Games. The untold story of Peeta's reintroduction into society, and how on earth the epilogue came about. All characters and the previous story line are rights of Suzanne Collins.
