Flecks of dust glisten and swirl in the sunlight that peaks through the open window. A cold breeze rolls in and stirs the now shabby curtains, I brought them with me when I moved to the seam in hopes they'd brighten up our home, but now their colour has dulled, coal dust staining the once yellow fabric. Months have passed since Burdock was taken from us in that mining accident. My heart and life force shattered, torn away from me without any warning.
That day, months ago, worms its way through my memories and blinds me. The sound of the heavy knock, whispered urgent voices, rain smacking against my face as I waited by the mine entrance, Primm tugging at the corners of my sodden dress and the hush of Katniss's voice as she tried to calm Primm down. Tears prickle in the corners of my eyes, a thickness rolls up my throat and threatens to escape. Pushing my fists into my eyes, I take three long, deep breathes. I concentrate on the voices below, their muffled footsteps on creaking floorboards and the gentle meows of Buttercup talking to Primm. My life felt small and non-existent, whilst theirs continue without me.
I know I need to get up, I should be the one getting them ready for school and preparing their breakfast. But the cupboards are bare of food, filled with forgotten memories and lost promises. A tightness curls around my insides and threatens to suffocate me, it crawls through my chest and rips its way up my throat. I bark out a sob that sends jabs of pain through my lungs, I yank the covers over my head and pray for a dreamless sleep. The slam of the front door in the distance bounces around my skull.
Hours pass before I wake to Primm's needy fingers curling up in my clothes. Another sob threatens to escape, I bury my face into her golden hair, it's still wet from the rain and smells like damp flowers. I'm only aware Katniss is home from the sounds of her slamming cupboard doors, although it's not long before she heads back out. Surrounded by Primm's warmth and the peaceful lull that envelopes our home, I close my eyes and escape into the darkness.
A bang wakes me from thoughts of love and heartbreak. My eyelids flutter open to find Katniss watching us, I can't read her expression. Her face twists slightly as she hoarsely mutters for us to come to the table. As Primm bounces up to follow, I realise the expression was one of pain. Hurt. I know in the back of my mind that I'm partially to blame, but something in my brain shuts down the thought. Dragging myself from the tangled sheets, I make my way slowly, counting my steps. Two. The smell of something warm and homey brings a rumble to my empty stomach. Fifth teen. The wet smell of rain wraps itself within the smell of the, what I can now see is, bread. Thirty. Katniss shoots a quick glance at me then nods towards the open chair across from Primm. My eyes trace the dark circles under their eyes and the hollowness of their cheeks. Something catches in my throat. My eyes flick to the blackened loaf that sits in the centre of the table, a memory of a summer years ago clouds my thoughts. Freshly homemade grain bread, Burdock singing songs around the kitchen as I pour steaming cups of mint tea.
My back straightens. A switch is flicked and I remember my role as a mother, I remember my children, young and helpless. Boiling water, I let my fingers wander the cupboards until they find the jar that holds mint leaves. Gathering three cups, I set them out gently and pour us all a steaming cup. Breathing, I try to allow myself to be present in this moment with my girls. To remember the love I still have in my life. But as quickly as it first came, the grief washes over me, its gravity like an invisible force, dragging me back thirty steps, back to my bed. Our bed.
Guilt suffocates me as much as the grief. I'm not sure how to survive, let alone how to keep two children alive and get them through this. I know I should be there for them, be their home, their safe place, especially now that their father is gone. But I don't know how to breathe without him here with me, I knew sadness before, I thought I'd dealt with grief but this feeling is all consuming and yet equally numbing. I'm haunted by things that have been and gone but today gave me a small glimmer of hope. Something to hold on to and pull myself forwards, for them.
Over time we've made small steps back to some normality, the days still feel heavy and still frequently drag me down, but the time in between grows. Katniss began hunting shortly after coming home with the bread, something Burdock taught her before he was taken from us, this alone brought another load of grief, but it was a changing point for our family since his death. I've eased back into my role of skinning and preparing the meat, something I did fondly with my love. Primm now curls next to me whilst I play with her hair as she tells me about her day. Katniss keeps her distance, communicating only if needed, I give her space and hope one day things can go back to normal. I miss her.
Years have passed since Burdock's death and whilst Primm has welcomed me with open arms, Katniss keeps me at arm's length. I wish I could explain why I shut down back then, why even now I still fall into darkness every so often. I want to tell them why I couldn't be there for them the way they needed me to be. But that I'm trying my best to right those wrongs. And whilst the grief does still suffocate me, that I'm able to see the bigger picture and I don't want to let it get in the way of them anymore. It's a sorry excuse, but it's the truth, I wish it wasn't and I'll beat myself up daily for it. I can't change the past, but I can change the present.
These thoughts swim through my mind as I prepare the bath for the reaping. I lay out the outfits they'll be wearing, a blouse and skirt for Primm and one of my old blue dresses for Katniss, I run my fingers over the soft fabric and remember another reaping 24 years ago.
Hours later, all the children in District 12 are stood outside of the Justice building. I search for Primm in the mass of 12-year-olds and get a brief glance of the back of her blouse untucked as she walks into place, something tugs at my heart. My eyes search frantically for Katniss in the sea of 16-year-olds, I catch her also searching for Primm. I wish I could take them somewhere safe and out of harm's way, Burdock always spoke about the world outside of Panem, that we could be free and our girls could live long, full lives. But that's not possible, it's treason and if caught even thinking about such a thing, we'd all be hung. I want them to at least feel me here with them, waiting for them. I pray that they don't get called, I can't lose them.
A light breeze rustles the leaves under my feet as Effie Trinket wriggles her hand around the girl's bowl, her bright pink fingernails grip onto one small piece of paper. I stop breathing, the crippling grief tears its way through my body and sends me to my knees as "Primrose Everdeen" echoes through the speakers.
