Chapter 27 Chapter 27 Dandelions in Spring

In the ensuing chaos, I heard only one sound, and that was Snow's laughter.He giggled, then coughed, and a stream of frothy blood came out of his mouth.I saw him lean forward, blood gushing from his mouth until the guards blocked my view. As a group of soldiers in gray uniforms approached me, I wondered what would happen if I killed the new president of Panem.Interrogation, torture, public trial.Unfortunately, I have to say goodbye to those I love again.I also had to face my mother, who was completely alone in the world right now. "Good night." I whispered to the bow in my hand, and I felt it had calmed down.I raised my left arm and twisted my neck, trying to bite the pill in my sleeve.But my teeth are on the flesh, and I jerk my head up to meet Peeta's gaze, who is looking at me intently.Blood dripped from the teeth marks on his hand, but his hand was holding on to my pill. "Let go of me!" I snarled at him, trying to wriggle my arms out of his grasp.

"I can't," he said.When people dragged me away from him, I felt the little medicine pocket on my sleeve ripped off, saw the dark purple pills on the floor, saw the last gift Cinna gave me stepped on a guard feet.As the crowd closed in on me, I turned into a wild beast, kicking, scratching, biting, and doing whatever it took to break free from the countless hands that gripped me.The guards lifted me up and out over the heads of the angry crowd, but I kept kicking and kicking, and I started yelling Gail's name.I didn't find him in the crowd, but I think he knew what I wanted.Give me an arrow to end this cleanly.It's just that I have no arrows and no bullets now.Will he not see me?No, above our heads, on big screens around the town square, everyone can see what's going on.He saw it, he knew it, but he wasn't there.Just like I failed to save him when he was caught.There are also regrets between hunters and friends.Both of us are.

I am completely alone. When I arrived at the presidential palace, the guards handcuffed me and put a blindfold on me.I was half-dragged through the long hallway, onto the elevator, and finally thrown onto the carpet before someone uncuffed me and the door slammed shut behind me.When I took off the blindfold, I found myself thrown into my room at the training center.This is the room where I spent those precious few days leading up to The Hunger Games and The Age of Thrones.There was nothing but the mattress on the bed, the wardrobe was wide open, and it was empty, but I recognized the room anyway.

I struggled to my feet, and with great difficulty took off the Mockingjay costume.I was covered in bruises and maybe a finger or two were broken off.But in the fight with the guards, my skin was the most damaged.The newly grown pink skin was torn apart like a tissue, and blood oozed from the cells that had been carefully cared for.But without a doctor coming, I've gone too far to deserve medical attention.I curled up on the mattress, wishing I was bleeding to death. No such luck.At night, the bleeding stopped and I felt stiff, sore, and sticky, but alive.I limped to the bathroom, according to my memory, adjusted the water to the softest level, no foam and shampoo, then put my elbows on my knees, held my head in my hands, squatted there, let the warm The stream of water rushed against my body.

My name is Katniss Everdeen.Why am I not dead?I should be dead already.It's best for everyone if I die... I stepped out of the bathroom and stood on the doormat as the hot air dried my scarred skin.There were no clean clothes to wear, not even a towel to wrap my body in.Back in the bedroom, I found that the Mockingjay costume was gone too, and there was a paper robe where the clothes used to be.Meals from a mysterious kitchen were laid out there, along with a small box containing medicines that I needed to take after meals.I took meals and pills and put ointments on my skin.Next, I have to think about how to make a break for myself.

I lay curled up on the blood-stained mattress, not feeling cold, but I was naked, with only a piece of paper covering my tender limbs.Dying is not easy - the windows are a foot thick in glass.I could tie a knot, but I had no place to hang a rope.I could have stockpiled the pills and swallowed a fatal dose, but I was sure I was under twenty-four-hour surveillance.For all I know, at this moment I must be on the TV screen while commentators are analyzing my real motives for killing Cohen.Under close surveillance, suicide is almost impossible.This time, the Capitol once again held the power of life and death.

All I can do is give up.I decided to lie in bed without eating, drinking or taking medicine.Fuck it, I can do it too.But there was also the morphine withdrawal process that was holding me back.Now I don't reduce the dose little by little like in the hospital in the thirteenth district, but stop the medicine suddenly, and I feel extremely painful.The previous dose must have been huge. When the drug addiction kicked in, I was trembling all over, and I felt excruciating pain and unbearable cold.My resolve was shattered like a fragile eggshell.I'm on my knees, fingernails scratching the carpet, looking for the pills I threw away when my willpower wasn't broken.I then changed my suicide plan and let the morphine poison me slowly.I'd be skinny, sallow, and sunken-eyed from the morphine addiction.I implemented this plan for a few days and made good progress, but something unexpected happened.

I started singing, and I kept on singing, whether it was standing by the window, in the bath, or in my sleep, ballads, love songs, songs about nature, and so on.I sang all the songs my dad taught me before he died.Of course, since his passing, I've had very little music in my life.But what's amazing is that I can remember these songs clearly, the tune, the lyrics.My voice was hoarse at first, and it would break when I sang high notes, but after practice, my voice became more beautiful.My voice can make the mockingjay quiet down and listen, and slowly learn from me.Days passed, weeks passed, and I watched the snow fall on the windowsill outside.During this time, the only human voice I heard was my own.

What are they doing?What are you procrastinating for?How hard is it to bring a sentence to a girl who killed someone?I continued with my plan of self-destruction.My body was getting thinner and thinner, and sometimes I was so hungry that the animal nature in me craved uncontrollably bread and butter and roast meat.However, I still won.For a few days, I felt so sick that my life was ending.But I found that the morphine was tapering off.They are trying to wean me off the morphine slowly.But why?Sure, a drugged-out Mockingjay is easier to handle in front of an audience.Then a terrible thought hit me.What if they didn't intend to kill me at all?What if there are more plans?Are they going to package me, train me and use me again?

I won't listen to them anymore.If I can't kill myself in this room, I'll end it as soon as I get out.They can fatten me up, reshape my whole body, dress me in beautiful clothes, and make me look good.They can also design fantasy weapons and come alive in my hands, but they will never be able to brainwash me to use these weapons again, and I will never give my allegiance to these devils called humans, even though I Also one of them.I think Peeta has also figured out that we are killing each other, hoping for a more respectable species to replace us.For a species to resolve differences by sacrificing its own offspring is clearly not normal, under any pretext.Snow saw the Hunger Games as an effective way to control rebels.Cohen thinks those parachutes will end the war.But in the end, who will benefit?No one will.The truth is that no one living in this world benefits from any such event.

I lay on my mattress, and for two days without food, drink, or even morphine, the door to my room finally opened.A man walked up to my bed and came into my sight.It's Haymitch. "Your trial is over. Come on, let's go home," he said. Home?What is he talking about?My home is gone.Even if I could return to that imaginary place, my body would be too weak to move.At this time, some strangers came.They rehydrated, fed, bathed and dressed me.One of them carried me up to the roof like a rag doll, put me on a helicopter, and strapped me on.Haymitch and Plutarch sat across from me.After a while, our plane took off. I have never seen Plutarch so excited.His face was flushed, and he was full of ambition. "You must have ten thousand questions to ask!" Seeing that I didn't answer, he said to himself. After I shot Cohn, there was a commotion in the crowd.After the riots, Snow's body was found, still tied to a pole.Some say he died by coughing from laughing, others that he was crushed to death by the crowd.In fact, no one cares about these anymore.Immediately after Cohen's death, emergency elections were held, and Pera was elected the new president.Plutarch was appointed Minister of Propaganda, responsible for matters related to radio and television.The first thing he did after he took office was to be in charge of televising the entire trial of me, and he was also one of the witnesses.Of course, he will defend me.But my acquittal was largely due to the efforts of Dr. Aurelius, who diagnosed me as an incurable insanity from the horrors of the war.I was released on the condition that I be under his care.Of course, all this can only be done by phone, because it is impossible for him to live in the desolate and dilapidated District 12.And I'm not allowed to leave District 12 until I get a new notice.The truth is, the war is over and no one knows what to do with me.If war breaks out again, Plutarch will surely find a role for me.Then Plutarch laughed loudly.For Plutarch, the fact that no one appreciates his humor has never bothered him. "Are you preparing for another war?" I asked. "Oh, not yet. At present we are in a time of peace, and we all hope that the terrible events of the past will not be repeated. But, all agree, this is not always the case. Human beings are changeable, Stupid, forgetful animals that are brilliant at self-destruction. Who knows? Maybe that's it, Katniss," Plutarch said. "What?" I asked. “Time is ticking, maybe we are witnessing the evolution of human beings. Think about it.” Then he asked me if I would like to participate in a new singing program he was launching in a few weeks.They thought maybe I should do something to please myself.He sent the camera crew to my house to shoot. We stopped briefly in District Three, where Plutarch disembarked.There he will meet with Bit to discuss a technical refresh of the broadcast system.The last thing he said to me was, "keep in touch, don't let everyone become strangers." After we took off again, I looked at Haymitch, "Oh, why are you going back to District 12?" "They didn't seem to have a place for me in the Capitol either," he said. At first, I didn't think much of it when he said that.However, after a while, I began to wonder why he said that.Haymitch didn't assassinate anyone, he should be able to go anywhere.He was going back to District 12 because he had received relevant orders. "You have to babysit me, right? Be my tutor?" He shrugged.Now I understand, "Is my mother not coming back?" "Yes," he said.He pulled a letter from his jacket pocket and handed it to me.I stared at the beautiful and neat font on the envelope. "A new hospital is going to be built in District 4, and she's going to help build it. She wants you to call her as soon as you get home." I ran my finger under the elegant italics. "You know why she doesn't come back." Yes, I know why.Because in the ruins of District 12, there were too many painful memories of her father and Prim, which she couldn't bear.It's obviously not because of me that she didn't come back. "You want to know who else can't come back?" "No, I'd rather be surprised when I find out," I said. Like a good instructor, Haymitch coaxed me into eating a sandwich, and then, all the way through, pretended he thought I'd fallen asleep.He wandered from box to box, carrying all the wine in his bag.It was evening when we arrived on the green lawns of Victor Village.Half the houses in Victor Village were lit, including Haymitch's and mine, but Peeta's was dark.Someone had started a fire in the kitchen.I sat in a chair in front of the fire, still clutching my mother's letter. "Okay, see you tomorrow," Haymitch said. With the clink of wine bottles, Haymitch walked away.After he walked away, I whispered, "I don't think I can see him." I sit in a chair and don't want to move.The room was cold, dark, and empty.I pulled an old scarf over me and stared at the flames in front of me.Just fell asleep like that.When I awoke, it was morning, and I heard Gracie Sey busy by the fire.She made me fried eggs, toast, and sat by and watched me finish.Neither of us spoke much.Her little granddaughter played to herself, playing with a bright blue ball of thread from my mother's woven basket.Gracie Se told her to put the ball back and I said let her play.There is no one in the house who knows how to knit.After breakfast, Gracie Se packed up the dishes and left.But at noon, she came to get me lunch again and let me eat it.I don't know if she just cares about her neighbors or if the government pays for her, but she comes twice a day.She cooks and I eat.I was trying to figure out what to do next, now that I can kill myself, there are no obstacles.But I seem to be waiting for something. Sometimes the phone keeps ringing, but I never answer it.Haymitch was never seen again.Maybe he changed his mind and left, but I suspect he was just drunk.No one else came except Gracie Se and her little granddaughter.For me, after months of living in isolation, just the two of them in the house was enough. "It really smells like spring today, you should go for a walk. Go hunting," she said. I've never stepped out of the house, not even out of the kitchen, except for the tiny bathroom a few steps away.I'm still wearing the clothes I left the Capitol on.I just sat by the fire all the time, looking at the unopened letters that gradually piled up on the mantelpiece. "I don't have a bow." "Look in the living room," she said. After she left, I thought of going to the drawing room, but gave up the idea.After a few hours, I still went.I walked softly in my socks so as not to wake up the ghost.On the table in the study where I had tea with Snow, I saw a box containing the jacket my father wore when hunting, the family heirloom book, the wedding photos of my parents, and the ones Haymitch sent in the arena. The intubation, the souvenir pendant Peeta gave me, the two bows and quivers Gail salvaged the night Twelve was on fire.I put on my dad's jacket and nothing else moved.Then I fell asleep on the sofa in the living room.Nightmares followed, and I was lying in a deep grave, and every dead person I could name came and poured spadefuls of dust on me.I know so many dead people, so the dream is also very long.The deeper I was buried, the more I couldn't breathe.I wanted to shout and beg them to stop, but the dust filled my mouth and nose, and I couldn't make a sound, and at the same time, spades of dust kept falling... I woke up with a start.The dim morning light has already penetrated through the gaps in the shutters.The sound of the shovel shoveling the earth was still ringing in my ears, and before I was quite awake I ran across the hall, out the front door, and made a full circle around the house, already sure I could yell at the dead up.When I saw him, I stopped abruptly.His face was flushed from digging under the window.In the trolley, five flowers and trees were placed in a row. "You're back." I said. "Aurelius didn't allow me to leave the Capitol until yesterday, and he wanted me to tell you, by the way, that he can't pretend he's seeing you forever, you gotta answer the phone," Peeta said. He looks fine.Although he was very thin and his body was covered with burn scars like mine, the pain and sadness in his eyes had dissipated.When he helped me into the room, his brows were slightly frowned.I inadvertently brushed away the hair covering my eyes, only to find that my hair had become a chicken coop.I immediately asked as if protecting myself, "What are you doing?" "I went to the woods this morning and dug these up. For her. I thought I could plant these little trees by the house," he said. I looked at those flowers and trees, with clods on their roots.When I think of the word rose, my breath immediately becomes short of breath.I was about to say nasty words to Peeta when I suddenly remembered the name of this plant.It was no ordinary flower, but the primrose, from which Prim was named.I nodded to Peeta, agreeing with him, and hurried inside, locking the door.But the evil thing is not outside the house, but inside.I was weak and anxious and trembling.I hurried upstairs, and when I reached the last step, I tripped and fell to the ground.I forced myself to stand up and went into my room.The smell was very mild, but still wafted through the house.It was still there, the white rose caught in a pile of dried flowers. Although the petals had dried up, the flower cultivated by Snow's greenhouse still had that unnatural fragrance.I grabbed the vase, stumbled to the kitchen, and threw the pile of dried flowers into the coals.As the flower burned, blue flames enveloped the rose, engulfed it, reduced it to ashes, and I smashed the vase on the floor. Back upstairs, I opened all the windows in the bedroom to let all the smell of Snow out.But that smell is still difficult to get rid of, and it still stays on my clothes and in my pores.So I took off my clothes, and there were patches of exfoliated skin the size of playing cards sticking to my clothes.Afraid to look in the mirror, I went straight to the bathroom and rinsed my hair, my body, my mouth to get rid of the smell.I didn't stop until my body was red from rubbing and there was a slight tingling.I put on clean clothes.It took another half an hour to comb my hair.Then Gracie Se opened the door and entered the house.While she was making breakfast, I threw all my clothes into the fire and trimmed my nails with scissors. As I ate my eggs, I asked Gracie Se, "Where did Gail go?" "Second District. He has a very high-profile job there, and I see him on TV a lot," she said. I pondered the flavor of her words, expecting to stir up anger, jealousy, or longing in me, but all I felt was relief. "I'm going hunting," I said. "Well, game would be nice for lunch," she said. I set off with my bow and arrow, ready to go out from the "pasture".When I was approaching the square, I saw many people wearing masks and gloves, digging things under the snow, with a horse-drawn cart next to them.A carriage stopped in front of the former site of the mayor's house.I recognized Thom, Gale's co-worker, who from time to time wiped his brow with a cloth.I remember seeing him in District 13, so he must be back.He greeted me warmly, and I mustered up the courage to ask him, "Did they find anyone there?" "The whole family, and two people who work in the house," Som told me. March, the quiet, kind, brave girl, the girl who gave me the brooch from which I am named.I couldn't suppress the grief and anger in my heart. I don't know if she will come to my dream tonight and pour a shovelful of dust into my mouth. "I thought he was the mayor..." "The title of mayor didn't do him any favors," Som said. I nodded and continued walking, not daring to look at the things in the car.The whole town, including the Seam, looked the same, digging up the dead.When I passed my old home, there were more carriages on the road. "The Ranch" is gone, or very much changed.A deep pit was dug there, filled with the bones, and it was a great grave for many people.I rounded the hole and got in where I usually go into the woods.This time it will be all right, the isolation net is no longer powered, and there are many branches on it to keep those predators away.Old habits don't die easily, and I still want to go to the lake, but I'm too weak to even go to my usual date with Gail.I sat where Cressida was filming us, and it felt so empty without him.A few times, I closed my eyes and counted to ten, hoping that he would come to me as quietly as before.But then I had to remind myself that Gale was doing a very revealing job in District Two, maybe kissing another girl on the lips. It's early spring now, which would have been Katniss' favorite weather in the past.After the long winter, the trees are gradually waking up, and the enthusiasm and strength that were just burst out because of the primroses have now been exhausted.By the time I walked back to the fence, I was tired and dizzy.Som had to drive me home in his dead car and help me to lie down on the sofa in the living room.Lying on the couch, I see dust flying in the thin streaks of afternoon sun. I heard a grunt and turned my head quickly.It took me a while to believe it was true.How did it get here?I'm beginning to think that paw print is that of a beast.Its hind paws were raised slightly, and the bones on its face were so thin that they were angular.It came back entirely on foot, from the thirteenth arrondissement.Maybe someone threw it out, maybe it couldn't stand being without her, so it found it all the way. "You've come this far, she's not here," I said to it.Buttercup whimpered. "She's not here. You can call if you want. You won't find Prim." Hearing her name, he jerked up, pricked up his flat ears, and began meowing hopefully. "Get out!" It dodged the pillow I threw at it. "Go away! You won't find anything here!" I started shaking, annoyed at it. "She's not coming back! She's never, ever coming back!" I grabbed another pillow and stood up, trying to throw it more accurately.But for some reason, my tears flowed down. "She's dead." I grabbed my chest, trying to hold back the overwhelming pain.I slumped to the ground, shook the pillow, and cried, "She's dead, you stupid cat. She's dead." After I finished speaking, I raised my voice and wailed bitterly.Buttercup also whined.No matter what I do, it won't go away.It circled me out of reach.I moaned uncontrollably until finally I passed out.It must have also understood, and also knew that some incredible things had happened, and it wanted to live in a way that was unimaginable before.When I woke up a few hours later, the moon had risen.It lay beside me, its eyes were very vigilant, it stood by my side in this dark night, protecting me. In the morning, I cleaned his wound and he just sat and didn't make a sound.But when I pulled the thorn out of its claw, it meowed a few times in pain.We both ended up crying again, but this time we comforted each other.With this strength, I opened my mother's letter delivered by Haymitch, called her phone number, and this time it was me crying with my mother.At this moment, Peeta appeared at the door with Gracie Se, holding a piece of freshly baked bread.She made us breakfast and I fed all the bacon to buttercups. Time passed day by day, and I slowly recovered.It was amazing how, following Dr. Aurelius's advice, I got over my bad emotions and finally found meaning in life again.I told him of my plan to continue writing books, and soon a large crate of parchment arrived from the Capitol. I got the inspiration from the plant book that I have in my family.The people I met in some places and the things that happened can't just rely on memory.So the book starts with a photo of a person, and we try to find a photo, and if we can't find it, Peeta makes a sketch.Then I took all the details from memory, and it would be a crime to forget them.So, there are many interesting photos and sketches in the book, Mrs. licking Prim's cheek, dad laughing, Peeta's dad holding dessert, Finnick's beautiful eyes, Cinna cutting clothes with a piece of silk cloth , Boggs is using Holo, Lulu is on tiptoe, squatting her arms, like a bird about to fly, etc., etc.We sealed the pages with salt water and promised not to let them die in vain.Haymitch finally came in too, contributing photos of the "tributes" he's directed over the course of twenty-three years.The materials that can be added are gradually decreasing, but a memory of the past will bring new materials, and even the late-blooming primroses are inserted into the book and counted as part of the book.There are also happy moments, like a photo of Finnick and Annie's newborn son. We all kept ourselves busy again.Peeta baked, I hunted, Haymitch drank until all the booze was gone, then went to feed the geese while I waited for the next booze train to arrive.Fortunately, those geese don't need to worry too much, they can take good care of themselves.We are no longer alone.Hundreds more came back home, no matter what happens, this is our home.The mines were closed, so the land was cleared to grow food.Machinery was brought from the Capitol, and we opened a new pharmaceutical factory here.Although no one takes care of the "ranch", it has returned to life. Peeta and I are both recovering.Sometimes, old ailments flare up and he needs to hold on to the back of the chair until it's all over.I would wake up screaming from dreams of horrible mutants or dead children, but Peeta was always there, arms outstretched, warm.Finally, his arms became lips.One night I felt that strange feeling again, the same feeling I had had on the beach.I knew this was going to happen sooner or later.What I need to live is not Gale's flames of rage and hatred, I already have too many of them myself.What I really need is a dandelion in spring, that bright yellow that signifies rebirth not destruction, that ensures that life can go on and tells us that life will get better no matter how many precious things we lose.And only Peeta can give me that. So, whenever he whispers in my ear: "Do you love me, really, fake?" I told him, "Really."