Mockingjay's Daughter (Hunger Games Fanfiction)

Chapter 3: Mom

"Are you sure your ok Katniss?" Peeta asks looking me directly in the eye concerned. His face looks filled with pain. I nod at him and take another bite of my cheese bun. The soft bread make my taste buds tingle. "Then why don't I believe you?"

"Well you should. I'm fine Peeta." I try and convince him, he doesn't believe a word I'm saying. I cannot try and pretend to Peeta, he can sense when I'm lying.

I'm terrified. Terrified if the games will start again. And Willow.

What if she gets picked? What will we do then? She's my everything, she cannot go into the games. It cannot happen, it just cannot. But maybe I'm just jumping to conclusions. I mean I was part of the rebellion that stopped the Hunger Games.

Why was Snows grandson Kenneth making that speech on TV before then? Why would the Capitol allow it?

He wants Panem to be a dictatorship again, Kenneth. Saying that the rising crime will be dropped if the games start again. He said this in a very sly, convincing way to try and reason with Panem but myself and anyone else who knows how evil Snow can be can see through his lies.

He must be as evil as Snow.

"Kat, Katniss!" Peeta shouts. I shake my head, snapping out of my horrible thoughts. It seemed better to be in reality right now.

"Sorry," I apologised.

"What where you doing? You seemed dazed out," Peeta rubs my cheek with his hand.

"Thinking," I breath quickly. I didn't realise I was shaking until Peeta pulled me in a hug and stroked my quivering body.

He doesn't ask what about, he already knows. "It's going to be ok," he shushes while I burst into tears again. "Its going to be ok..."

***

After we all finish our dinner of stew and bread we all sit in the living room as if nothing had happened earlier from when I had that panic attack.

I cuddle into Peeta while he strokes my hail and turns on the TV with the glass remote control, watching some Capitol documentary I couldn't focus on. I instead stared at it blankly.

Willow was sitting by herself on the carpet, reading a book about plants my mother had sent her for her 6th birthday. Just like me, Mom and Prim, Willow was fascinated by them. She already had a very good understanding of them at a young age.

My Mom has never actually came back to district twelve since Prim passed. She's never even met Willow before, she just instead sends a present for her each year of her birthday.

This does hurt me that she has never came to see me, Peeta and our child. I understand how hard it is for her but it's hard for me too. That's my mother for you though.

Twelve reminded her too much of Dad and Prim, which I couldn't blame her for. It did with me too but I still couldn't imaging living anywhere but here. This is my home.

"Come here Willow," I encourage her patting the large sofa smiling her. She walks over, gracefully sitting down. She was such a good girl. Her innocence reminded me of Prim.

Oh Prim.

"What are you reading about?" Peeta asks her.

"Different sorts of plants. On this chapter, it describes healing herbs and how to cure illness and infections that would kill you." She informs us, "look here, see!" She stabs her index finger at the illustrations of the plants.

"That's amazing," he ensures her. "How many do you I think you can recognise now Willow?"

"Oh, lots." She smiles turning the book page. "All of this page. I have been reading it all week but I know some of the others too. I want to remember all of them soon."