What if?- A Mockingjay Story

Chapter 59

What if?

What if this is really happening? What if he really does know what happened on the train? What if he's angry? What if this is something that will break us apart? What if this will split us up?

What if? What if? What if...

--

He stands up and walks into the kitchen so I follow close behind him, knowing that this conversation will be continued. He looks slightly hurt but tries to hide it with a blank expression. I know him well enough to see when he's hurt or angry. He says to me

"I saw Gale on the train, I know he works for a district leader and was just on the screen a second ago. I also know that you have been so fidgety since we got back and I could easily see you were keeping it from me. What makes me the most angry is the fact that you were obviously with Gale and didn't tell me"

I tell him

"I only spoke with him about the games"

He raises his voice and says

"How am I supposed to believe that? If you had told me I possibly could but not now! You easily could have been kissing him for all I know"

Now my voice is raising now, the flames of anger burning inside me coming the surface as I throw back

"Well you know if you trusted me you'd know well that I would never kiss him...."

He fires back

"You say it like you haven't done it before"

I yell back almost immediately

"I can't believe you just threw that in my face. Why does this bother you so much?"

"You never told me!!"

"I have the right to speak to people without having to report back exactly what happened!"

He sighs aggressively of frustration as I storm out of the room, slamming the front door on my way out. Despite the cold air biting into my bare arms I run, run until I reach the woods. It's then when I fall to my knees in defeat and scream. Scream at Peeta, at Gale and at myself. I clench my fists and dig my nails deep into the skin of my palms, the pain of rage intense within me. But I know a cure, a remedy to heal such anger. Something I haven't done in years but find myself doing now. I haul myself up and make my way to the trunk and pull the bow and quiver from their hiding. I brush them off of dust and leaves quite aggressively and swing the quiver across my shoulder. I grasp the bow tightly, the touch of wood giving me more drive to shoot. I pull an arrow from the quiver and within a matter of seconds allow it to fly and stab into the bark of a tree. I then sigh of relief as my anger flies as far as the arrow and drains me. I fall to my knees once more, images of my father passing by my eyes. Of him complimenting me on my first decent shot, on him teaching me to hunt and leading me to the meadow, of him at home laughing with me and Prim and of him dancing around the kitchen with my mother. Then I burst into tears, my whole body trembling with weakness, emotion and the bitter could engulfing me. Crying for my father, crying for Prim and crying for what my life has come to. I am fighting over things that really don't matter, lying when secrets should be no more, taking my life and everyday breathes for granted. So I cry, cry for the unsaid apologies, cry for yelling at Peeta. Cry until I black out asleep.

---

When I awake, I feel my whole body trembling once more as I am laid now in my bed at home. How I got here I don't know nor remember. I feel overwhelmed with the heat and on my forehead sits a cold cloth. I moan softly as I reach and push it gently off my forehead. Then Peeta comes into my vision and places it back on with no words before sitting down beside me. I know he is the reason I'm here, he must have come after me in the woods. But I know for a fact that it mustn't have been until this morning as I am now obviously struck with a fever from a night out in the cold. After a while I ask him hoarsely despite the pain that comes with each word

"What do you think of me?"

He doesn't answer but instead says

"You should eat"

I tell him

"Answer me"

He looks at me for a moment before his eyes shoot away as he says

"Im just disappointed, that you still don't find me trust worthy. I know you did nothing but speak to Gale, but the truth about the games would be something I would have rather found out from you than the TV"

And before I can open my mouth he's left. I don't see him again for a few hours but hear him downstairs with Sophie. He then returns with medicine for me and then leaves, allowing Sophie into the room. She runs in and sits on the side of my bed and says to me

"Mummy, Daddy is sad. You and daddy were shouting yesterday. Are you okay?"

I nod and say with my voice so hoarse it sounds like the scrapping of chalk on a chalkboard

"We're both okay sweetheart"

I know that sometimes she will blame herself, she has always been like that, thinking that people sadness is her fault. She is so innocent in this way. She then smiles and says

"Look what I made in the art room with daddy"

She holds up a picture. Two big stick men and one small stick man. She points each one out and says

"Daddy and Mummy and me"

I grin and plant a kiss on her head. I manage to say

"That's right sweetie, we're a family. Remember that"

She nods. She is so mature for her age at moments like this, she understands so much for a two year old. I tell her we're family but in two years I don't know if that will really be true.
--
That night Peeta doesn't come in after putting Sophie to bed, instead he drops in my medication and walks off to the spare room I suppose. I try my best to sleep alone but wake up from a nightmare and trembling with fever. I throw the covers off of me and make my way down the hall and in to Peeta. He sits upright wide awake when I enter the room and doesn't protest when I slide in beside him. He presses the back of his hand to my forehead before whispering

"Your burning up"

I don't listen, I don't care. I respond

"I'm sorry Peeta. I'm so so sorry"

I feel tears roll down my cheeks as he pulls me into his chest, rocking me back and forth slowly. After a while he says

"You know sometimes you're a puzzle, scattering your emotions and secrets across the table leaving me to try fit the pieces together"

I tell him softly

"Not anymore. I can be a full puzzle, as long as you will be a piece"

He tells me

"I will always be a piece. No matter what happens how he feels won't change. We stay with each other, Always?"

He says it as if it's a question so I respond

"Always. I love you"

Almost immediately I hear faintly

"I love you too"

And then I'm asleep.