Aftermath

Are you?

Are you, are you

Coming to the tree?

Where they strung up a man,

They say who murdered three,

Strange things did happen here,

No stranger would it be,

If we met at midnight,

In the hanging tree.

The song repeatedly spins around my head, ringing in my ears, only ceasing once I begin to hum it. Once I reach the final verse I realise Peeta’s been stood in the doorway for at least most of the song.

He’s leaning against the door frame, arms and legs crossed over, hands pulsating in sharp spasms, jaw clenched tight.

The song must have reminded him of something.

“Peeta?” I whisper, crossing the room towards him, dropping the sheets I was folding. He looks up at me eyes filled with pain.

I slot my hands in his, guiding him to the edge of the bed and before I begin massage them gently until they stop twitching.

“You…..h….have an…an…amazing…voice.” He manages to splutter out, eyes burning into mine as he tries to stay with me.

“Thank you.” Is all I can manage, his eyes are so terrified. My mind spins as I try to come up with something else to say to distract him. “Do you want me to sing it?” He nods slowly still dazed. I wish I hadn’t said that.

I clear my throat and begin:

Are you, are you

Coming to the tree?

Where a dead man called out for his love to flee,

Strange things did happen here,

No stranger would it be,

If we met at midnight,

In the hanging tree.

Are you, are you

Coming to the tree?

Where I told you to run,

So we’d both be free,

Strange things did happen here,

No stranger would it be,

If we met at midnight,

In the Hanging tree………

By the time I’ve finished the song Peeta lets out a deep breath, as though he’s not been able to for a good amount of time, and collapses back onto the bed. Unconscious.

By noon he’s awake again, but distant as before. Each time I try to make conversation he decides to move to another room and within an hour I give up at any attempts of reaching him.

Instead we simply bask in each other’s insanity and sit in silence...