this is a kind of grief katniss had never thought existed. she’d thought herself quite the expert on suffering – with the death of her father bringing her as near to her knees, and the brink of death, as she’d ever been before she’d volunteered for the hunger games. but this pain – this gnawing, cloying, POISONOUS pain that never relents, never ceases even for a moment – is a new kind. all encompassing in a way that shatters her like broken glass. she’s certain there’s no fixing this. the guilt will weigh heavy between her shoulder blades until the day she dies. sweet, young, innocent prim, the only one who’s life had ever mattered, the only thing she’d really been fighting for – gone, forever. more silent tears roll down her cheeks. there wasn’t even a body left to bury.
she’s sitting on a rocking chair in prim’s old room – still exactly as she’d left it before the capitol had fire bombed district twelve into rubble, bed half unmade, clothes thrown lazily over the edge as if still awaiting her return – when the fingers brush across her cheek. not real, not real. but they feel real, and her voice sounds real. so real it shatters katniss’ heart all over again. i couldn’t save you, i couldn’t save you, i couldn’t save you. i’m so sorry. “prim?” she asks in a voice that rises barely above a whisper. her eyes finally open. blonde hair, blue eyes, clear face. sweet prim who had cried whenever she’d seen that katniss was upset before she even knew what was wrong. “prim, i’m so sorry.”
SOFT EYES meet her sister’s as prim moves to sit on her unmade made. it feels familiar, like nothing had changed. she figured no one had the HEART to move any of her items, no matter how small. fingertips run across the tattered fabric of the blanket at the foot of her bed, before they ventured to the clothes draped over the side. she WISHED she was really there -- that she was really home && that it was really her fingers reaching out to touch her elder sister’s face. BUT SHE ISN’T REALLY THERE. no, she’s not there because she’s dead.
the pain in katniss’ whisper causes prim to CRINGE. she wants to tell katniss that everything is okay, but how can everything be okay when she’s dead? while there were many things she wishes she could go back && redo, HELPING THE CAPITOL CHILDREN WAS NOT ONE OF THEM. that was what she was trained to do. as katniss apologizes, prim shakes her head. “it’s not your fault, katniss.” she speaks softly, her tone as caring as ever. there’s a pause before prim brushes some of her flaxen hair behind her ears. “it was so fast. i don’t really remember it...” biting her bottom lip, she puts her fingers underneath katniss’ chin to make sure her sister keeps her gaze on prim’s innocent face. “i don’t blame you for ANY of this. i still stand by what i said -- i will always stand with you.”
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