Evening Primrose

Katniss Everdeen has survived through it all. The wounds have healed, but now she must go back and open up another wound...

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1. Primroses

I gently trudge through the ashes of the late President Snow's house, making sure I'm not walking on someone's grave. How could Snow? How could he bomb innocent children? Because of him, my darling sister is dead. 

"Katniss, we've got a body!" cries Amycus Grove, my young  companion. " Completely intact. And It's a District Thirteen!"

I run to where he's standing, hoping wildly the intact body might be Prim's, but it can't be. This girl's face is ethereally pale, while Prim always had some pink in her cheeks. Her long plaits are ashy-colored, while Prim's hair was light  blonde. Her eyes are brown, like Prim's, but Prim's eyes had life in them.

Amycus brushes off the ash on her plaits, and they are actually blonde. He looks deep in her eyes, and we can both see the life swirling in them, even though she is dead. And the blush in her cheeks is still there, if not a bit faint. It is definitely Prim.

We carry her to Amycus' wheelbarrow, gently lying her down. Now I am determined to give my only sister a funeral. I know where to bury her in District Twelve. 

Peeta comes to me and Amycus  at the gate of my house, looking at the body in the wheelbarrow.

"Well, better be off. See you Katniss, Peeta." Amycus leaves the wheelbarrow at the hedge and sprints back to his own home, a spare Victor's Village.

Peeta kneels to the wheelbarrow and carries Prim, gently placing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Prim is so lifeless her head slips into his chest. I nearly burst into tears at this.

"We're going to give you the best send off there is, little Primrose." he whispers, tucking her left arm under her right.

                                                                     *

Peeta spends the whole evening in the garden, clipping primroses, while I search in my bedroom for something to dress her in. This task only frustrates me. All her clothes probably burned in our original home; I haven't anything of my own that will fit her, either. As I reach the end of my wardrobe, I fling a dress aimlessly at the bed. Not even the finest Capitol wear will do for her.

Peeta finds me on the bed, weeping. He gently consoles me, assuring me that we'll find something beautiful for her and we'll give her the most heartfelt funeral there is, when I see primroses in his hands.

"Primroses." I say almost without feeling. I take a primrose off him, letting it dangle between my fingers, simply staring at the flower my sister was named after.

                                  *

My mother comes on the day of the funeral. I expect she was probably too busy to come the day before. We both go into my bedroom, where we take Prim and clean her up. As I scrub the last few inches of ash off her face, my mother takes out a ruffled  blouse and skirt, the very outfit Prim wore to her first Reaping.

"She looked so beautiful in it," my mother whispers, "she needs to look beautiful now."

She hands me the blouse and I dress her in it. My mother easily  slides on the skirt. She kisses Prim's nose, squeezes my hand, and leaves the bedroom to give me some time with my sister.

I cry the moment she's gone. I cry over my sister, my beautiful sister, the one I loved so dearly. I'd taken her out of the earth and now she was going back in it. I quickly kiss her head and make for the door, but I burst into tears mid-way. The door opens, and Peeta lets me sob into his shoulder for a minute or two, when he grasps my hand and with  his other hand, he places a single primrose in Prim's hands.

We walk outside, and a crowd is waiting for us. Some of them may remember me as "The Girl On Fire", but they haven't come for me. They've come for Prim.

Peeta and a few others put the lid on the coffin, and carry it through the  Victor's Village, until we reach home again, and we bury her. And Peeta puts a beautiful flower on the top of the coffin as it goes down. That beautiful flower is a primrose.

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