Ignited

I saw the dead every night, even this many years later. I saw the faces of those I loved. I saw the faces of those I killed; of those who died, all because I lived: Cinna. Prim. Castor. Pollux. Cressida. Finnick Odair, murdered by muttations before he even knew he was going to be a father.

And I always woke up from these nightmares screaming.



In this nightmare, I am a fire mutt once more. Burning, burning, is all I know. The strange sensation of excruciating pain mixed with guilt is far more than I am able to bear.

I see Prim, the duck tail formed by her untucked shirt. I see her tending to the wounded children in the street as I push through the crowd once more, and then I see her lips forming my name, calling out to me, right before the rest of the deadly silver parachutes go off.

I give a long, strangled cry, writhing as I smell my own smoldering flesh. I barely register the gentle pressure of Peeta’s arms wrapping around me. He holds me until the tremors cease.

“I remember tears streaming down your face,” he says, “when I said I’ll never let you go.” He lets out a mirthless chuckle and pulls me closer to him.

I automatically lean into him and look up into his blue eyes. “When all those shadows almost killed your light?” I say quietly. I know he still has flashbacks of implanted, twisted memories of myself. He usually grips the back of a chair, skin pulled taut over white knuckles, trying to fight the impulse to hurt me until they stop. Neither of us will ever recover from the horrors of the former Panem.

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “I remember you said—”

“Don’t leave me here alone,” I plead. I begin rocking back and forth in his arms. Ever since my sister died at the hands of Gale’s death traps, I haven’t been the same. The nightmares, present since my time in the Games, are getting worse. All that’s left of the old Katniss Everdeen is a memory.

I drop my gaze from Peeta’s stony expression. “But all that’s dead and gone and past tonight,” I say. I try to shrug out of Peeta’s embrace, but he only tightens his grip.

“Just close your eyes,” he whispers. “The sun is going down.” I comply, though not before glaring at him. He smiles enigmatically. We both know this isn’t the first time he has let me sleep longer than I should.

Peeta begins to caress my cheek. “You’ll be all right; no one can hurt you now,” he promises me. He brushes my long, dark hair away from my face. That’s all he does. Since the last Quarter Quell, we haven’t kissed. I haven’t felt the hunger for another. “Come morning light, you and I’ll be safe and sound.”

I scowl and turn away from him, to the curtains which veil me from the outside world. Knowing how mentally unstable I am, he warns, “Don’t you dare look out your window!” I don’t listen. I move the thin cloth aside, hesitating for just a moment. My breathing becomes ragged, and Peeta takes my hands in his. “Darling ...”

You come to finish me off, sweetheart?

I can’t seem to wipe the flames from my vision. “Everything’s on fire,” I say. “The war outside our door keeps raging on.”

Now, this isn’t entirely true. The rebels fighting against the Capitol, the uprising, it is all done. Over. My mind, however, is in constant turmoil.

Fire mutt: A creature unquenchable as the sun. The faces of my loved ones, dead and alive, flash before my eyes. Prim; Gale; my father; my mother; Cinna; Effie Trinket; my prep team: Venia, Flavius, Octavia; Greasy Sae; Madge Undersee; Haymitch, who still drinks himself to sleep; Peeta.

Peeta Mellark. Can the boy with the bread possibly be the dandelion in the spring, my hope for rebirth—the one I want and need?

Peeta asks me to sing—for him, he claims, though I realize he means to distract me—and I do. I lose myself, crooning the song which was Rue’s last request. Peeta’s silent until I finish, reminding me of mockingjays.

Then he says into my hair, “Hold onto this lullaby ... even when the music’s gone.”

“Gone,” I echo.

My gray eyes meet his blue ones, and he slowly leans in. He kisses me briefly, softly, and I feel that want for another kiss return.

This time, my wish is fulfilled.