Three in the Morning

He's Back

Katniss

I haven't left the apartment in days.

Days which I've spent crying out all of the sadness inside me left to excrete in between sleeps. Now I'm left empty of nearly all emotion.

The only fragment of human contact I've had is the voices echoing through the rooms coming from my old television set in the living room that I'd dragged here from home some time ago. Of course, every few hours my phone had vibrated. I'd assumed it's Prim each time, but even those efforts of hers to contact me have ceased since last night.

Even work had become irrelevant to me. At this point, I wonder if I still have the measly job of the butcher's apprentice; I've missed far more than just these past few days this month. I haven't gotten out of my bed except for the two or three times that my stomach had hungered too greatly for me not to sulk over to the freezer for a popsicle, or to the pantry for some crackers.

Now I'm faced with a different hunger; one simply to get up and move around. My legs are itching to be made use of, and I feel as if I'll drive myself insane anyway to stay laying down another minute.

A wave of lightheadedness hits when I stand up from being sedentary for so long. I'm in desperate need of a shower, but first I check Prim's texts.

As it turns out, half of the eight messages are from my sister. Four are from Gale.

First Prim informed me that she and our mother were finally back at home. Then she asked if I could drive her to some boy's house on Friday so they could work on a chemistry project together. As if I'd actually believe that. Nevertheless, I promise her I'll pick up at five-thirty.

Her other two texts were just asking if I was okay. Typical of Prim, she's always been the more well-mannered of the Everdeen sisters.

On Sunday, Gale said, "I heard about your mom. I hope you're okay."

Sunday night: "I've been thinking it's about time to come see you lately. I can help you get through this. Would it be okay to start heading up tomorrow?"

According to the calendar on my wall, it's Tuesday now. I wonder if he ever did catch a flight. Back in May he said he'd been saving up for this very reason.

Monday: "Packing today. Leaving tomorrow."

So he's on his way.

Ten o'clock this morning: "Taking off in twenty."

I glance to the top of the little screen. It's one in the afternoon now. For the life of me, I'd never be able to figure out when that implies he'll be here.

I'm irrationally excited to see Gale. I haven't in so long.

Reading his words on a phone is enough to bring my mood up substantially. I feel the slightest bit more adequate suddenly. Gale's traveling two thousand miles for the sole purpose of seeing me.

I'm just about to strip down and get in the shower when a knocking on the door interrupts my Gale daze.

I am presentable by no means. And neither is the apartment, I recall, after my rampage from a few days ago.

"Who's there?" I call out, and am shocked by the hoarseness of my voice. I guess I haven't spoken since yelling at Peeta to get the hell out of here.

"Peeta," the person at the door replies. I should have guessed that.

Tentatively, I undo the lock and open the door. It could be my imagination, but Peeta looks a little taken aback at the sight of me.

"Hello," I offer.

"Hi, Katniss," he says, "I just wanted to say-" his gaze drifts from me to somewhere behind me.

The cheese buns. Crap. Peeta swallows and carries on talking.

"I just wanted to say I was sorry."

"For what? I'm the one who should be sorry."

"I don't know, to be honest. I'm sorry for being a bother on Sunday I guess."

I feel like the most terrible person alive. His eyes are directed at the ground, and his cheeks flush in an embarrassed manner.

"I'm sorry for how I acted," I confess, "I shouldn't have told you to leave. I was just having a really bad day."

I know the apology is lame. It barely suffices for my harshness towards Peeta.

"Oh," he says.

"Yeah."

"How so?"

"Well, my mother tried to kill herself."

I'm proud of myself for being able to form a coherent sentence out of the memory, but at the same time the words hit me hard. I can't have another breakdown in front of Peeta, but that high state of mind that Gale had left me in is all of the sudden long gone.