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She was sitting in the train. Soon the skyline of district twelve would show up. She wasn’t ready to go home yet. Home. It didn’t feel like going home. It felt like moving from hell to a place that once was okay. She knew Prim and her mum were awaiting her. But was she truly waiting for them? Was she ready to see them again? Maybe it would be better if she would just jump out of the train window and end this all. Or maybe it was punishment for surviving. And she would survive even the jump out of the car window.
The skyline of district twelve showed up. It didn’t feel like home at all. Haymitch was sitting in the seat in front of her. He was drunk and asleep. She felt like joining him. Maybe everything would be better like that. Maybe her thoughts would stop racing, her heart would stop beating and she would not have to go back to what was home and live with the blame and memories of what was past her. The train got closer to district twelve. She knew right there, it would never be home again. And deep down she was sorry for it.
When the train pulled in Effie came out of her compartment and shook Haymitch awake to tell them that it was time to get ready to get off the train. She didn’t recognise her own name when Effie called her. Her body reacted to it, like muscle memory kicked in, but it never reached her heart. As they stepped off the train the people cheered for her, applauded like she had done something great. The cameras were everywhere. The people asked questions. So many questions. She answered some, ignored others, all while her head and heart were absent. Mourning what she had lost and sinking deep inside the guilt that filled her as a whole.
Then there were Prim and her mum. They hugged her like she had just risen from the dead and in a way she had but in another she still was six feet under. She felt like she died out there. And if not physically then in every way that mattered. The hug didn’t bring back the missing warmth. Neither did the soothing and affirming words. The tears of happiness. The soup from groceries she had won them. The blanket draped softly over her shoulders. The fire flickering in the night. Her head upon their shoulders. It just reminded her of there. Of all the bad things that happened before and after. Nothing they gave brought back her warmth. Nothing they gave brought back her name.
The next morning Gale came over. To cheer her up. He couldn’t. He asked questions about what happened. About her. What she was feeling. If she was alright. If she would like to go inside the forest with him. She tried talking to him. She couldn’t. So Gale left. Her mother made her soup. A blanket was draped softly over her shoulders. She sat beside the fireplace. Her sister put her head upon her shoulder. It did not bring back her warmth. It did not bring back her name.
Gale came back. At first alone. He tried talking to her again. Soon he realised that it was. As long as it did not touch the hole inside her. As long as he ignored the darkness she felt with every breathing moment. Maybe it would be better if she just fell asleep and never woke up again. Sometimes Gale brought some of his siblings. Sometimes his mom came over. She helped her mother. They talked to her. But they never asked her how she felt. If she was alright. If she would go outside with them. She assumed Gale told them not to. Or maybe it was her mother. Or maybe Prim. She didn’t remember who asked what or what she answered. But no matter how much they avoided the shadow cast over her life, her warmth and name did not come back.
The days passed. Three weeks after her returning to the place that was once home she stepped outside for the first time. Not far. Just on the doorstep. But later, when she lay asleep beside the fire, a blanket softly draped over her, Prim in her arms, she could hear silent weeping from the other room. It only made the hole of guilt inside her deeper. Sleep was rare these days. Sometimes it came. But when it did it was never soft. It was wild and dark and instead of bringing peace it brought more pain. She did not get her warmth back from it. And if she would remember her name it wasn’t because of sleep.
More time passed. She stepped outside more often. She still slept next to the fire with a blanket draped softly over her and Prim in her arms. With no sleep and bad dreams. She still lived in a place that would never be home again. She still was missing her warmth and her name. But she stepped outside more often. And sometimes – when nobody was near and the night had been sleepless instead of full of nightmares – she wandered around this place. First only near the house. Then further. Inside the town. She went further and further until she met the heart of the town. And then she went back to the house she now lived. It was a strange rhythm that seemed to consume her as a whole. There still was a shadow cast over every single one of her breaths. There still was a hole of guilt inside her, slowly destroying her from the inside. But she had started to wander. And maybe it was the beginning of something okay. There was no home, no warmth and no name. But she didn’t want to jump out of the train window, didn’t want to fall asleep and never wake up again. Breathing, living was okay.
She almost believed that she would spend the rest of her days like this. Until she met her. Again. She knew, it wasn’t the first time she saw her. The girl standing in front of her seemed more familiar than anything in this place that was once home. But still she couldn’t seem to know her name or the place she got her warmth from. Like that had been taken from her in the same cruel move that her own name and warmth had been taken. It was one of the days her nights had been sleepless instead of full of nightmares. So she had wandered. Into the heart of the town. Where she met her.
The girl had stopped in front of her. A basket of strawberries in her hand. Wearing a dress like the sun. Her eyes had started sparkling. And the look on her face was full of wonder and worry. For a moment it felt like the stars stopped breathing so time could stand still. It was just them looking at each other, almost in awe, and complete silence. And – what she didn’t notice until it returned – for a moment the shadow cast over her and the hole of guilt inside her both were gone. She was almost there to ask a question, the first question since she returned. The girl and the familiarity coming with her had made her curious. But she came first.
“Katniss?” She spoke the word in disbelief, almost as if it was something never said before, yet like she knew exactly how it was shaped, how it sounded, what it meant. That is my name, she thought. Katniss. “Who are you?”, the question already on the tip of her tongue found a way out. The spark inside the eyes of the girl stopped sparkling for an almost unnoticeable moment. “I’m Madge”, she said with sadness slowly lurking inside her words, “We were friends. Sort of.” “I don’t remember”, she – Katniss – answers. It is the truth. She doesn’t remember most things before the tragedy. Like a new life started as soon as she entered the arena. And then she was supposed to just go back to her old life, the one she forgot about, after everything ended. But Madge… the name, the girl it all seemed so familiar. “I believe you”, she says. Because it’s the only thing she can think of. Because it is true. She believes Madge that they were friends. They must’ve been. Or else it wouldn’t feel like this, right?
Madge smiled. Like the first flower that made her way through the earth in early spring. How beautiful, Katniss thought. “Would you like a strawberry?” Madge held her basket in the air. “They’re fresh from the field. Gale picked them for me.” This made her breathing hitch. “Gale knows you?” Madge grinned. She looked like a child that had just pulled a prank on an authority figure. “Of course. You used to bring me strawberries and he would always come with you. He continued after you…” The look on her face got consumed in by shadows, “...after you left.” Then, like she was a dog shaking off water, she started smiling again. “Let’s bring you back home” She linked her arms with Katnisses. They slowly walked back to the house Katniss was living in. That day Katniss not only got to know again what strawberries tasted like but she also got a friend and – most importantly – her name back. And the shadow cast over her life became a bit smaller, as did the hole of guilt inside her.
With time taking its path, Katniss and Madge spent day and day together. Sometimes in the heart of the town, looking at everything it had to give. Sometimes in the safety of what should be a home. And every day her heart got warmer and warmer. Madge was not only light but she was fire. And she reignited the fire that was Katniss herself. Slowly, but she did it. Which was more than others did. And suddenly she had her name and her warmth again. And even if she never believed it, she would get her home back too.
It was exactly two years and three weeks since Katniss got back to the place that was once home. Exactly two years since Katniss stepped outside for the first time. The sun was shining. It was a day where the night had been sleepless instead of full of nightmares. Katniss and Madge were wandering around the heart of the town. Discovering everything again and again. Over time they had slowly fallen into a rhythm. And that rhythm was beating in the same rhythm their hearts were. Steady. That day they were adventurous. Strolling further and further from the heart of the town. Risking passing the fence. Walking inside the forest. They found the strawberry field. And as the sun walked closer to the horizon they were full of strawberries and joy. The sweet taste of the berries on their tongues, the sound of laughter in their ears. They sat down, stared at the sky. Unknowingly both their gazes shifted. To each other. It felt like the stars stopped breathing so time could stand still. How beautiful, Katniss thought.
The fire inside her was burning. As was Madges. Her name was something she knew how to speak, how to shape, how to use. As was Madges. Home seemed so far, yet so near. And as she looked inside the deep dark ocean that was Madge’s eyes she found herself thinking, this is home. Not the place that once was home. But right here. With her. She leaned in and so did the other. Their kiss was soft. Like a blanket draped over a shoulder. Like a fireplace flickering in the darkest night. Like holding someone dear inside your arms. Like home. And if Katniss ever felt like she was cold or lonely, everything was forgotten here. And the shadows cast over her life felt so small, as did the hole of guilt inside her. It was still there but barely noticeable. And with the taste of strawberries on her tongue, the sound of laughter in her ears and the warmth of the sun on her skin she knew that this was the beginning of a new life. And she was happy about it.