Real or Not Real?

~Epilouge; Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story~

Peeta tells me that they have all of my traits. He says they're

strong, brave, and beautiful. I agree, they are. My problem, is that

I just don't believe any of those words actually describe me.

Which is why I say that they take only after Peeta. Like him, they

are kind, loving, understanding, smart, and creative.

I know we may never agree on the subject, but it doesn't matter,

because we can agree on one thing for sure. They take our breaths away.

Like his father he has an eye for beauty. He'll wait outside for hours,

just to paint the Sunset. Watching them play is what calms me the most. Seeing them

smile, and laugh, and run, that's what reminds me that they are

so unlike Prim and I when we were their age. They are safe.

Safe to be happy. Safe to be free. Safe to live. Sometimes Peeta

will catch me in my trance. He'll walk up, kiss the crook of my

neck, and hug me from behind. I often fight to keep my eyes

open as I melt into his arms, desperate never to look away from

the sight of our beautiful children. But my eyelids finally win

over as I hear him whisper into my ear...

"It's okay Katniss, they'll be here again when you open your eyes."

The End