This is my sixth fan fiction, so those of you who know me "Hello there, old friend." and to those of you who don't "Hi, I'm Amy."
Big thanks to my Beta, Hungergamesloverr. You seriously are the best person ever! You keep me writing, and all of that mushy business ;) :P
Also, Happy Birthday Sophia! :D
I know that it is late, but still.
Loaf you Stawby ;)
Stay safe, kid.
What if Katniss did dream 'The Hunger Games'. What if she dreamt all of it; the war, the loss of her sister and her father. Everything.
During a very serious storm in District 12; Katniss Everdeen blacked out. She was in her own little world for a total of 10 days, she woke in the Districts Hospital, with so many questions.. What is real, and what's not? Her fellow patient, Peeta Mellark is the source of her confusion. After everything she saw, seemed so real.. It left a scar that will stay with her forever.
For the record, this entire fan fiction will be in Katniss's Point a view; unless stated otherwise (:
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Hunger Games.
The thunder is deafening, and shakes the floor, while the lighting illuminates the entire room. I should be in the woods, but even I wouldn't go out now. My father would never let me, so I suppose it became second nature.
Father, mother, Prim and myself are sat around the fire. We've never had enough money to buy luxuries, but we have each other and that is all that matters. Prim is sat on my mother's lap, getting her hair braided, while my Dad has his arm around my shoulders, almost protecting me from the night. As we both finishing drinking our hot mint concoction, he leaves my side and I lose myself in the spring air. Starring out of the window, I watch the rain slide down the pain of glass, lulling me into a calmed state.
I put my hand onto the glass, and watch as it draws all of the heat from my hand, replacing it with an icy chill. I become so transfixed with the constant drumming of rain, I don't notice how the thunder becomes more frequent.
Slowly, everything around me starts to fade until I can't see or hear anything but the rain beating down against the glass. It's like the room is spinning and I feel as though I'm falling, despite the fact I'm still on the arm of the small rocker. I don't know what is coming over me, but as the rain drops fall, so do I. Then, with one last rumble of thunder, everything goes black.
I hear he name being called, and I freeze. I watch her clamber up the stage, and I freak.
"I volunteer! I volunteer!" I scream, quickly replacing my younger sister.
I face so many things, with someone along slide me. I watch as we both fight, protecting each other. I watch as he is taken from me, changed forever, as we fight for the freedom of children. I watch as my sister gets bombed through the hands of my best friend. And I watch as he tries to repair me.
"You love me real or not real?" He whispers in my ear.
It's like someone has restarted my heart, or put me back on factory settings. I open my eyes, before I can answer the question that is dominating my thought process.
Real or not real?
Real or not real?
Real or not real?
It is on repeat in my head. His voice is echoing, overlapping the previous question. I hear someone's shrill voice, one in which I recognise but refuse to surcome to.
"Ms Everdeen, can you tell me your first name please?" A warm yet professional voice asks.
I start to scream, thrashing around my bed. The rooms are too white, too familiar to me.
"Ms Everdeen, if you do not calm down we will have to sedate you." The voice warns again, placing a hand on my upper arm.
I flinch away from his touch, but cease the screaming. My gaze flits around the room, taking in the faces that surround me.
There is my mother, looking frail and empty.
My father, face creased with worry, stress and lack of sleep.
And my sister, watery eyed, cradling my hand.
Seeing them brings on the images of their death. Despite the faces I am awake; I see it as though it is happening right in front of me.
I clock the duck tail, falling out of her pleated skirt. She gives me a look filled with terror and anxiety; just before the second wave of bombs blows her away from me.
The next image is of my mother, motionless. Stranded in her chair, wallowing in her loss.
"Katniss." I speak randomly, my voice sounding hoarse.
"I'm sorry, what?" The foreign voice asks again.
"You did ask her what her name was." Prim whispers, staring at the floor.
The Doctor just glares at her in response.
"Don't glare at her, because she is right Dr Aurelius." My mother says evenly, sounding calm yet speaking with authority.
I just stare at all four of them in disbelief.
"Can you tell us the last thing you remember?" Dr 'Aurelius' asks, ignoring the previous comment.
"I'm sorry what?"
"Real. I should have said real. I should have told him real."
Just as I finish my sentence, there is a sharp prick in my arm and my world fades to black again.
At first there is nothing, just black.
The thick air threatens to suffocate me, and it seems to become denser over time.
I scream out, over and over.
My screams pierce through the darkness, like a knife on skin.
"Peeta, please help me. Where are you?! You swore you would never leave me.
Where are you?!
As time passes, voices of those I heard flood through me. They shake me with every word, each causing a shudder of terror.
"Want to blow 'lover boy' one last Kiss?"
"You have to win."
"Go on! Shoot, and we both go down and you win. Go on. I'm dead anyway. I always was, right? I couldn't tell that until now. How's that, is that what they want? I can still do this… I can still do this. One more kill. It's the only thing I know how to do, bringing pride to my district. Not that it matters. "
"It takes twice as long to put yourself back together, as it does to fall apart."
The last voice was absolutely true: once you're broken, there is no turning back.
And that's what I am, broken.
The voices and images work in tandem, forcing me to relive everything.
I must be going crazy.
Just to top it off, when I finally come round, there is someone speaking. Not a person I was close to, a person I barely knew.
-In this life time, anyway.
The only problem is, it isn't directed to me.
"I'm sorry Son, this was over the line. I will talk to her, I promise." I shudder, as I realise who is speaking, what he is speaking about but most importantly, who he is speaking to.
I open one eye, not wanting my conclusion to be true.
But it is.
I would recognise their voices anywhere.
I glance around my room, not letting my eyes land on the people only meters away. I clock the curtain, which I didn't before.
I should have realised, the districts hospital has always been small. As I have never been in here before, with my mother being a healer, I wasn't quite sure of the layout.
Obviously, I have a 'room-mate'.
Content with the surroundings, I allow myself to glance at the people in my room.
Well, I guess it is our room now...
I meet both of their crystal blue eyes, and I go into lock down.
"Peeta." I gasp, before thinking about the consequences.
A/N: Hello there :)
So this is my new fan fiction, while I rewrite 'Stop Blaming Yourself.'
I hope you enjoyed it, hopefully more will be up shortly :)
Feel free to message me, or anything like that. I just love speaking to you guys.
Inspirational quote for this chapter?
"I think a hero is an ordinary individual who finds strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles." ~Christopher Reeve
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, see you soon?