The Story Continues (Mockingjay Fanfiction-Sequel)

Surprises

Dedication to ^^^^ CrazyCHERRYz because of the awesome cover that I'm using, special thanks for both covers for the 2 books I am working on. Thank you so much!

All characters belong to Suzanne Collins.

Kudos to those who can catch the Harry Potter reference. I <3 you :)

Please comment fan and vote!

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Shock registered on my face as I saw the olive skin of Gale. I was speechless.

He waited as though waiting for me to suddenly come up to him, hug him, and forgive him. 

Instead, I came up to him, leaned close as though to kiss him, and slapped him across the face. Now confusion and shock registered on HIS face.

"--w-hat...."

I left him standing there pathetically with a gift box in his hands. I didn't even bother to take that from him.

He had no right coming in here expecting that everything would be all right. Especially after the rebellion, I shut myself out to the world and brooded over dark facts. He shows up and expects me to welcome him back with open arms. The worst part is that I felt the twinge of guilt, signifying that I wasn't at all ready to close myself out to my best friend.

I reminded myself that he probably already had another girlfriend iin District 2. That made me feel better, but only a little.

By the time I get back to my house in Victor's Village, the sun has gone down, and the houses emit a warm glow from candlelight and electricity. After the war, District 13 made sure that everyone in the Districts had enough electricity and food. Nothing could be done about the dead ones. That fact makes me still bear resentment against the rebellion, the creation started by my own doing.

As I walk into my house, I gently shut the door behind me. Ever since Prim died, my mother pushed herself into work, helping the wounded and broken families. I am usually met with a dark empty house, but today, the light in my upstairs bedroom is turned on. I look out my window to Peeta's house, and I see him baking bread in his kitchen. I knew it couldn't be Peeta, but I think somewhere in my heart bears hope that we may be the same again. Except that nothing will ever be the same again.

In my head, I decide that going upstairs into the unknown with nothing except my hands and furniture around is probably not the best idea. I hold my arrow near my body and slowly tiptoe up the stairs. Even the soft thud of mt feet on the carpet seems too loud for my all too quiet house. As I turn the corner, I realize I should have prepared myself more

There in front of me, stands all 5 foot 2 of my gold blond haired blue eyed vulnerable mother.

Sorry it's so short I have no time nowadays