Chapter 141

Katniss

I jolt awake at the sound of the front door to my house opening and closing. At first, my mind races through the thoughts of all of the things that could be happening. Someone could be here to kill us or take us. Someone could try to hurt Willow. They could be breaking in. Something awful might have happened and someone was sent to tell us about it. 

I take a deep breath and shut my eyes. I'm being paranoid. It's just my mother coming to say goodbye before she leaves for District 1. I'll be honest, I'm worried that she's leaving. Not only am I worried that something will happen and no one will be here to take care of Willow, but I'm scared that if she leaves now, I'll never see her again. She's almost 60, which isn't necessarily old. She's healthy and happy. I know I'm being irrational, but after all that has happened I just can't help it. Every time Peeta walks out the door of our house to go to work, a part of me worries he isn't coming back. I guess two Hunger Games and a war does that to a person. 

I kiss Peeta's cheek when he begins to stir. He rubs his eyes and turns to look at me. Just as he's about to speak, the silence that surrounds us is shattered with a piercing scream. A scream that could have only come from my mother. I push myself up and jump out of bed. "Mom?" I call, tears brimming my eyelids. Peeta pushes the door open and bounds down the stairway. About halfway down, he stops dead in his tracks. 

"Oh god. . ." he whispers turning to face me. I shake my head and furrow my brows. I peer over his shoulder to see my mother standing on the opposite side of the room with her hands folded over her mouth. 

"Peeta? What-" I push my way past him and immediately wish I hadn't. It's as if someone has sucked the air out of my lungs. I feel as though some sort of weight has dropped in my stomach. My mouth opens, as if I'm preparing to scream but I can't. Buttercup lies at the bottom of the stairs. Even from here I know he's not breathing. He's dead. The stupid old cat is dead. He's gone. The last thing that I had left of Prim is gone. 

A strangled cry escapes my lips as I turn away from him. Peeta pulls me into a tight embrace and I feel my knees begin to buckle. It's as if the room has started to spin. I hug Peeta's neck and rest my chin on his shoulder, trying desperately to rid my mind of the image of Buttercup lying several feet from me. After the first tear falls, the rest come in a steady stream of pain. I clench my fists and try to catch my breath. It feels like my lungs are on fire. I briefly wonder if this is what suffocation feels like. 

I choke back a sob and close my eyes tightly, attempting to control my breathing. I feel as though I'm at war with my own body. I desperately want to calm down. I don't want to cry. I don't want to hurt. I can't go through this again, but it feels as though I'm losing Prim all over again. She loved that cat so much. Loved him enough to risk her life to save him. It's as if all of the memories of Prim and Buttercup that I've stored in my head all of these years come flooding back in a massive wave. I am overcome with grief yet again. 

"Come on, Katniss. We should go back upstairs, yeah?" Peeta whispers, rubbing circles on my back. I nod my head weakly and clutch his arm as he leads me back up to our bedroom. I don't know what makes me do it, but I glance back over my shoulder. I have to see him one last time. In the seconds that I have to look at him, I try my best to memorize him; his mashed in nose, the muddy yellow color of his fur, his crooked ears. And then I'm gently pulled into my room again. 

I practically collapse onto the bed and pull my knees up to my chest. Peeta wraps a soft white blanket around me and pushes the hair away from my face. He brushes away a tear on my cheek with his thumb and kisses the top of my head. "I'll be right back," he whispers. After he leaves, all I hear is the sound of my own blood pounding in my ears. I press my face into my pillow and let out a sob. I picture Prim and how devastated she would have been if she were still here. I remember the day Prim brought him home and cried until our mother let her keep him as a pet. I can still see the hatred in his squash-colored eyes he looked at me with when I tried to drown him. And most of all, I can still hear the sound of him purring. After Prim died, he would find his way into my room and weasel his way into my arms and he purred whenever I held him. 

For a while all I had was Buttercup. And all he had was me. I think that after he realized Prim was never coming back for him, he decided I must be trustworthy enough if she loved me. I guess I was the next best thing. Or that I was the only thing. Who else was going to feed him scraps when no one was looking? 

As much as I hated that cat in the beginning, I did grow to love him. And he loved me too I think. I could tell he didn't trust Peeta, although he never denied the bread crusts Peeta constantly fed him. Still, Buttercup felt like a part of this family. He watched over Willow once he decided she was safe and trustworthy. He would curl up in the doorway of her nursery and sleep there all night to protect her. He wanted to protect all of us. Just like I know Prim did. Prim loved almost every one. If she hadn't, she may not have cared when she saw the muddy brown kitten lying in the street near our house. She may not have picked him up and wrapped him in her coat. She may not have brought him home and begged to keep him. She may not have loved him, and I might not have either. But she did and I did too. And now he's gone, just like her. 

I cover my ears when I hear the sound of a shovel scraping against the dirt outside. I know Peeta is burying him. I stand up and glance outside my window. Buttercup is wrapped in one of Peeta's old shirts, a bundle of his things lying on the ground beside him. I lean against my bedroom wall and hug my arms to my stomach, salty tears cascading down my cheeks in an unbroken stream. 

My mother enters shortly and pulls my away from the window, wrapping her skinny arms around me. I rest my head on her shoulder and we cry together. We cry for Buttercup and we cry for Prim. We never did grieve over Prim. She buried her sorrow in her work and I was left to grieve alone. But now, as we hold each other, I know we're both thinking of her. We're thinking of all she used to be and all she could have been. We hold each other because Prim is not here to be held. We're all each other has left of our family. And because of that all of the grudges that I have ever held against my mother seem to dissipate. I have to love her because she is my family. I can't take her for granted. She is the reason I'm here and I have to be thankful for that. And I know that this is what Prim would have wanted. She loved both of us so much and we loved her. We have no choice but to love each other too. 

My mother says her goodbye through tears and I try my best to be strong for her. I don't want to give her a reason to stay. She has to go, no matter how worried I may be. I know that she loves me. I know she's not abandoning me. She is entitled to a life and so am I. I want her to be happy and if I have to say goodbye in order for her to do that, then that's what I'll do. And I do. I watch her leave, knowing that she may not come back. I am aware that there is a risk that I may not see her again. But if this is what she wants to do, it's a risk I'm willing to take. 

After she leaves, I curl up under my blankets again and Peeta comes in to check on me. "How are you doing?" he asks. I sigh and shrug my shoulders. 

"Better now that you're here," I mumble. "How's Willow?" 

"She's fine. I just put her down for her nap."

"You didn't have to. I can take care of her too, you shouldn't have to do all of the work," I say. Peeta smiles and sits beside me on the bed. 

"I think I'll manage," he whispers, taking my hand. "Besides, you've been through enough for one day. You should just stay in bed. I can take care of her for today."

"I just feel like now that Buttercup is gone, Prim is gone for good. He was the last piece of her that I had."

"I know. But you still have the book. And you have the memories of the two of them. We can add a page or two for Buttercup if you want. I can paint them. I know it obviously isn't the same, but maybe if you had a painting or a book entry, it would keep their memory alive."

I smile weakly and bring his hand to my lips. I kiss him and smile weakly. "I like that idea," I whisper and touch my hand to his cheek. "I love you." 

He kisses me and says, "I love you too. So much. And it kills me to see you in pain. I just want you to be happy. I want to protect you."

"You are. You are protecting me. And I am happy, truly I am. Some days are just harder than others," I say, a tear leaving a trail on my cheek like rain on a dusty window. 

"I buried him beside the primroses outside. I thought it would be right. To have them together," Peeta says with such innocence that it makes me want to wrap my arms around him and never let him go. 

"I think so too," I say taking his hands in mine. I glance again out the window and down at the primroses below. Now, instead of imagining Prim and Buttercup and what they could have been if they were still here, I think of Prim and if there is a place where she is right now, how happy she'll be to see Buttercup there. I picture her bursting into tears, hugging him close to her chest, and whispering I thought you'd never get here. "I think it's perfect" 

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I feel like I've been saying this wAYYY too much (I have whoops) but I'm sorry it's been a while since I've updated. And I'm also sorry this chapter wasn't really my best, I've sort of fallen out of my writing groove and I'm becoming more and more disconnected with The Hunger Games fandom as devastated as I am to say it. So because I've become less motivated to write this book, the end will probably be Chapter 150 :/ That's like really close. But we've had such an amazing run and I am soososososoo thankful for having the opportunities that I have had through writing this. I wouldn't change a thing. I love you and I love this book so much. I just think it's time. It wouldn't be fair for you or me if I kept writing this. I wouldn't be happy and it would show through my writing, which is unfair for you because I want to give you the best of my writing that I can. I love you all so much. 

-booklover2019 <3