Afraid // Sequel to Always

Chapter 3

"Thank you. But I don't need a dandelion, I have you." Katniss.

"If I'm not there, I want you to still have something to make you happy." Me.

"Promise you will never leave me." Katniss.

"Promise me always." Katniss. 

I wake up screaming always, the sound piercing through my ears, making me afraid. I'm not dead, but the world around me is so dark.

"Katniss. Please. Please. Say something. Say something. Always! Anything?!" I yell into the darkness, hoping my wishes will succeed.

Then she appears, in front of me, on her knees. Her eyes are covered by her long hair. No braid tonight. She smiles at me and whispers, the voice smooth, almost ghostly.

"Always."

I crawl over to her, sitting closely in front of her, my eyes wide. She disappeared and here she is, talking to me, saying the word that haunts me in everything.

"K-Katniss?" I stammer, pressing my hand on my arm, checking if this is real or not. I pinch my skin and look up to see Katniss watching and laughing at me.

"You're doing it wrong." She says, pressing her lips together. I raise my eyebrows and she takes my hands, helping me up.

"Close your eyes." She whispers, still holding my hands. But I can't feel her touch.

I do so, squeezing my eyes shut, making the world even more darker.

"Picture my favourite colour, green." She tells me.

I get an image of green grass, which is the most common thing you can see. I nod once I've finished.

"Okay. Now stay completely still and..." She finishes by attempting to press her lips to mine; but I don't feel it at all, as she leans in the world with her disappears, and I sit up, sweat running down my forehead.

I open my eyes and see my bedroom, no Katniss. It was all a dream, and for that time I actually believed her world existed. That I was in it. I was seconds away from the kiss that's in my dreams, and nightmares. I was seconds away from living there forever, but all along she was proving to me that it wasn't real. Just like her.

The thought makes my heart sink, and everything that just happened makes me feel angry, but I force myself to lie down and close my eyes, as no sun peeks through the curtains. But now all I picture is Katniss and that dark world, so I open them again and stare at the roof. I wonder if her death has made me stronger or weaker, deep down in my heart I would say stronger; like any death could never kill me as much as hers did. I would no longer cry at funerals as all my tears are dry and guilty. But, I'm also weaker, knowing I'm getting help from people, and taking tablets because my mind isn't completely right.

When waiting becomes unbearable, I get up and look in the mirror. My hair looks like it's being pulled throughout the night. Sometimes I have nightmares and pull my hair while I sleep, it's a strange habit. I push it back and rub my eyes, bloodshot eyes. Then I pull on a shirt and walk downstairs, but Finnick isn't there; I sigh of relief. He usually gets here in the morning at about 8am, but I woke up early, 6am.

That means I have two hours to do things myself. I go straight to the stove, the place that is off limits, and get a fry-pan. I pour some pancake mixture into the pan and turn on the stove. I feel almost free to be cooking, doing the things I can. I'm functional to do this, I've told Finnick before, but he's so strict I end up at the couch watching the same shows over and over whilst I smell breakfast cooking.