I Want You to Stay

Numb.

"A thousand ships couldn't sail me

back from distress."

~Anna Molly, by Incubus

Chapter 7.

My eyes drift open and I immediately feel disgusting. The spot where my heart is is aching and feeling like someone is squeezing the air out of me. I'm freezing and shaky as I pull the covers up tighter, denying myself the request to get out of bed.

So it's one of those days.

I clench my eyes closed as they well with tears when I see the mirror. I remember what happened yesterday, how I felt yesterday, my thought process of yesterday.

'I can't hurt Peeta because I'm scared.' I think as I open my eyes, letting the tears fall. 'I can't be that pathetic.' I grab my face and shake harder with cold that seems to be coming from the inside of me.

'But I'll hurt him more if I don't.'
'You'll hurt him more if you push him away like this.'

'NO YOU WON'T. You need to get him AWAY. You've hurt him enough, you've DESTROYED him.'

I let out a sob and throw my pillow across the room. I cry loudly and shamefully, flat on my back, pillow-less, and hating life.

***

He's sitting in a dark room, strapped to a wooden chair with rusty metal straps. He's beaten and bloody, about 20 pounds lighter than he was just yesterday. He's crying hard, writhing in his metal restraints with a huge claw mark across his face, chest, arms, and legs.

"Stop it! Why is your soul purpose in life to destroy me!?" Peeta sobs. I try to choke something out, but then I see my hands.

My fingernails have grown out ridiculously, just like in his dream a month ago. You can barely call them fingernails anymore. They're long, jagged and caked with blood. Caked with blood. With his blood. I'm the one who made those claw markings. I the one who's torturing him.

"No!" I exclaim, sitting bolt upright in bed.

It was a dream.

But in reality, it's not.

I am the one torturing him.

I flip over and sob into the mattress, curling into a ball as my volume increases.

I'm a mutt.

I deserve pain.

I deserve death.

But as much as I want to, I can't bring myself onto my feet to grab a razor from the bathroom.

I hiccup, sob, scream, and wish for the end.

Then I remember what I deserve.
Long, slow, painful pain.

So I take what I deserve.

~Haymitch POV~

I poke at a dead bush in my lawn with my foot. I sigh. That time of year. The time everything starts dying, the time I seems to rain more than not, the time everything seems sad. I purse my lips and shove my hands in my pockets, heading down the street to Sweetheart's house to check o how she's doing.

I might act like I don't care, but hey, I'm not totally made of steel.

I kick a rock down the street as I go, the misty rain starting again. I scowl at it.

I hate this time of year.

I walk up the girl's porch steps and walk inside. It's all dark in here, which isn't that odd. She might still be asleep. I walk up the stairs, suddenly hearing muffled sobbing.