7The air is chilled or at least my body is shaking. I can hear her high heeled shoes smack the ground as she trots across the stage. Standing before me in a bright silver wig and dark red outfit is Effie Trinket; her outfit the exact colour of human blood. She pulls off her lace glove and slides her hand into a glass bowl of white paper slips.
"Ladies first." She exclaims.
My head looks from side to side. I look for Prim, knowing that she must be nervous on her first reaping day. I look for Gale, saying a quiet hope that he is not chosen.
"Aspen Mellark."
No, it is not Prim; it is not me. I am not even eligible for these games anymore and Prim is dead. Instead, my daughter walks up to the stage; only sixteen. A long brown braid hangs down her back. I jump out to her and scream and kick but I can't get to her. Peeta is at my side and I see him lunge for her too, but something is holding us back and I watch my daughter take her place on the stage.
"Calum Mellark." Effie calls out again.
I see the blonde curls on top of his tiny frame. Only twelve years old. Now I am frozen and paralyzed with terror. I watch him walk forward and I can hear Peeta hollering out but all I can manage to do is drop to my knees and scream. I know I will not make it through this. Both of my children are headed for the Hunger Games, a most certain death.
"Katniss, it's okay. It's not real; it's just a dream." Peeta's voice echoes in my ear. I can tell I have been screaming.
My eyes shoot open and the room is dark, but I realize that I am in my bed; my husband by my side. His arms wrap around me and he brings me to his chest rocking my shaking body slowly. It has been a long time since a nightmare has haunted me this severely. But hearing my children's names called in a reaping is one of the most sickening things I could even think of.
"They were reaped; I watched them walk to their deaths." I cry, my tears soaking his night shirt.
Peeta strokes my hair back and presses his lips into my temple.
"They are sleeping Katniss. Aspen and Calum are perfectly safe; there are no more Hunger Games."
I nod my head into his shirt because I know his words are true, yet the fear of my night terror seemed to have seeped down into the depths of my being. Peeta holds me tightly until my body stops trembling. He then takes my hands and places them firmly on my protruding abdomen.
"Feel." He says to me.
I stay in that position for a while, waiting to feel my son, who we will name Calum, kick within me. Finally he does and I know that he is alright
"Mama." A small voice calls.
I turn my head towards our bedroom door and see a frightened four year old Aspen wrapped in a small yellow blanket. My stomach sinks because I know she has heard me screaming and is now probably just as frightened as I was.
"It's alright sweetie. You can come in." Peeta says, motioning for her to enter the dark room.
I force myself to sit up and wipe the remaining tears from my eyes, doing my best to smile at her, not wanting to frighten her anymore than she already is.
She reaches her small hand up and touches my arm.
"Mama, why were you yelling?" She questions.
I look at her and then back to Peeta. It has happened; she has finally discovered my nightmares and why they occur so often. So far she was unaware of anything that has ever happened to Peeta and I before she came into our lives. She doesn't know about the Hunger Games or the rebellion or the amount of people we lost.
I lift her up carefully and place her between Peeta and I, she leans her head against Peeta's leg.
"I was having a bad dream." I tell her, brushing away the hair from her face and hoping that perhaps this is the only explanation she will need.
"Why?" She questions again.
I look at Peeta again and watch him lean over and open the drawer on the bedside table. He pulls out our memory book; the one we started to remember all of the loved ones who have passed. He then turns on the side lamp and a faint light illuminates the room.
"Before you were born sweetie, a lot of mean things happened in the world." Peeta begins. "Mama and I lost a lot of people who we loved."
"Where did they go?" She asks so innocently.
"They passed away and are not here anymore, Aspen. But they were very special." He adds.
Peeta hands me the book and I place it gently in her lap. I open the first page and Prim's eyes are there to greet us.
"This was my sister, and your aunt. Her name is Primrose." I manage to choke out.
Aspen studies the page taking in the perfect drawings of Prim. She runs her finger down the blonde hair.
"She is pretty." She replies, smiling at me.
"She is very pretty." I tell her. "She would have loved you so much." I add a little quieter.
I turn my head away from her and let a tear fall from my eye. This is the first time I have ever introduced my daughter to my sister and I feel saddened, yet relieved.
On the next page, she finds Peeta's father. I can tell she is puzzled because his father looks so much like Peeta. She most likely believes that this is a photo of Peeta himself.
"This is my daddy." Peeta tells her. "He is your grandfather."
"He looks like you daddy." She exclaims, pointing at the sketch.
Peeta grins. "He liked to bake just like me too."
"Did he teach you daddy?"
"Yes he did Aspen, just like I teach you." Peeta taps the end of her nose and she giggles.
She flips through the book asking sweet and simple questions about almost every single person she comes across. Finally, she lands on Rue. She studies her for a long time before looking at me.
"Who is this, Mama?"
I inhale a deep breath. "This was my friend Rue." I tell her.
"What happened to her?" She asks.
There is not really a solid way to avoid this question. We somehow need to inform her of this young girl who was murdered in The Hunger Games. Some people said we should just avoid showing our children anything about our past, but somehow that seems even more dangerous.
Peeta places his arm around her. "A long time ago, young people were chosen to participate in some very bad and dangerous games." Peeta begins. "It wasn't their fault, but a lot of them died because of these games Aspen. But they don't happen these days, so we do not have to be scared anymore."
Aspen looks at Rue again with a very puzzled look and suddenly I see that she begins crying. My heart sinks to my feet and I want to take back all the words Peeta and I have just said. I feel guilt wash over my body. Peeta seems stronger than I, however, and is rubbing her back gently. She is not screaming while she cries, instead she just sits there staring at the page as a few tears fall slowly from her eyes.
"Tell us what you're feeling honey." He tells her patiently.
"I'm mad daddy." She says looking up at him with her big blue eyes. "Why did they have to play games that did that?"
"Because there were very mean people in the world back then Aspen, but they are not here anymore." He tells her.
"I'm very proud of you though sweetie." I add in after managing to compose myself. "It is smart of you to see how the games were very bad."
Aspen nods her head and her face brightens slightly.
"Your daddy and I, and many other people made sure that they wouldn't happen anymore, so little girls and little boys like you could play and laugh and love and be happy."
She doesn't respond but instead just clutches the book to her chest. I can tell that sleep is taking over because her eyes are now getting heavy. Peeta lays her down between the two of us and I bring the blanket up to her chin. She does not let go of the book but instead falls asleep with it wrapped in her fingers, guarded by the presence of our loved ones.
