The Hunger Games: Book Four - How it Might Have Been ... Gale.

Page Thirty-Two

Katniss

There is an eerie silence in the air; the type of silence that follows an explosion, a catastrophy. That is what I have just witnessed. I'm staring out the shattered remains of a window now, looking far into the distance at the city of District Two. Plumes of smoke fill the air and I can see hovercrafts with sirens and lights dashing to and fro. There is still panic down there after the Nut collapsed - no one even know what has occurred out here, in a derelict building in the outskirts of the city.

But it is a catastrophy.

My knees are pulled up tightly to my chest and I am biting my bottom lip so hard it burst, moments ago. Salty, thick blood dripples down my chin and my neck and body ache from the fight with Peeta. My mind is reeling in shock and uncomprehension. I can't handle what I just witnessed.

Seeing my husband as an evil being again, seeing my best friend being assaulted fatally, seeing my child being taken by the Capitol - it's all my worst fears blended into one, huge nightmare, that sadly has become my reality. The graveity of what has just occured has hit me, slowly, unwinding all the threads of my tragic past, ripping open barely healed wounds, melting my brain down until everything around me is unfathomable. The trauma from my past, the Games, the Rebellion, seeps through the cracks in my battered armour, and I am on the brink of finally understanding and accepting the losses I have encountered.

Suddenly, a brick moves. I glance over, moving only my eyes, not trusting my body. I see Kuwai, my son, a shadow of his father, nimbly making his way across the dusty rubble towards Gale's body. I can barely look at the figure lying on the floor. His muscles, usually rigid, are limp, his rounded shoulders weakened, his callused face pale and covered in blood. A red-stained brick lies next to his head. I didn't even bother to check for a pulse.

I watch Ku move gingerly as if I'm watching him from somewhere else, another world, another time. He does not acknowledge me, though I know he saw me crawl over here moments after the hovercraft flew away and has been watching me silently since. He moves to stand over Gale's body, his face puckered slightly, as if he is deep in thought. Little Kuwai, so innocent and so young, has never seen blood like the puddle around Gale's head, and his face is scrunched as if it disgusts him. Then my son, who was always so delicate and gentle, a baker and painter, rips the sleeve of his shirt in one violent, angry motion.

It baffles me at first, but then as he works, I begin to understand slowly what he is doing, as if my thoughts are oil in water, rising to the top before I can grasp them, seperated from my body. Ku bends down and begins to gently wipe at the blood on Gale's head. He begins to rip his shirt more and makes little bandages out of the strips of cloth. I see him place his fingers lightly against Gale's neck and hear him count out loud, though a quiet whisper: "One, two, three..." He is checking his pulse.

I'm unaware how much time has passed when Ku finally finishes working. He looks at Gale, seeming satisfied. Ku is now stripped down to his little blue tshirt, his overshirt completely ripped and wrapped around Gale's damaged temple. With all the effort his frail body can muster, he turns Gale to his side, heaving as he goes.

My heart, shattered, thuds dully in my chest. Then my throat. I look at Gale again as if to confirm what I have just seen. But yes - it's there.

He's breathing.

Ku looks at me now, and it's as if something has changed dramatically in him. He looks stronger, more determined, aged. He doesn't resemble his father now, only in looks. In personality, he resembles someone I know. I can't think who.

Then I realize he reminds me of me.

But not this pathetic, whimpering me. The younger me, the Katniss Everdeen of District Twelve, the hunter who supported her family, the sister who volunteered for Prim, the Winner of the Hunger Games, one half of the star-crossed lovers, the face of the Rebellion, the Girl on Fire....

"You have five hours to pull yourself together," Ku says bluntly. I've never heard my son speak this way. "Gale will be conscious by then, and we are leaving to find Dad and Oeno." He crosses the room and settles himself in a dark corner to sleep, but in a place where he can see both Gale and I. "Snap out of it, Mockingjay. Panem needs you."

Today has been a day of dramatic change - yet I have to be the same.