Beyond the Beyond Prim
Disclaimer: The Hunger Games does not belong to me.
[(more)]
There is a lady that taught her how to make cheese from the milk from her goat that likes to say that birthdays and a new year are times to reflect on one's life choices. Since the goat had come to her as a gift from Katniss on her tenth birthday, Prim tends to be reminded of that saying (and a handful of other such things the woman is fond of saying whenever they happen to see her on one of the market days that the families that live scattered throughout the woods around hold to exchange goods and services and what passes for news) whenever she is taking care of the milking (milking gives you time to think like that). It's almost her birthday again, so she is letting herself examine a few things that she tries not to think about too often to the rhythm of the milk hitting the bottom of the pail.
Prim is never sorry that she followed Katniss into the woods on that day when it finally felt like there was some hope to be found again after a long stretch of where it felt like everything in the world was trying to push all of the hope out of them. She is sorry, sometimes, that they did not bring their mother with them when they ran away to the other side of the fence. She cannot help but feel that way even though she knows that their mother would not have come - if they had even managed to get a response on the suggestion out of her at all. There was something wrong with their mother in the weeks after their father no longer came home from the mine at the end of the day. She knows that the behavior that she saw from the woman was not normal - that was not just grieving. That was a sickness - one that her mother had never taught her how to treat. She used to think that was her fault - that if she had been older or bigger or had already learned more then she would have been able to help more. She never told Katniss that - didn't need to as it turned out because she learned to not feel like that anymore somewhere in the course of them coming here and building a little home for the two of them that wasn't so haunted with all the things they couldn't have anymore as their little house back in the District had become.
She knows Katniss is still not ready to talk about what happened back then (may never want to talk about it because Katniss doesn't talk about things like that if she can get around it), so she does not bring it up even on the days when she is desperate to ask some questions or be reminded that she is not alone in her memories). Their mother was sick and there was nothing that she and Katniss could do to fix it - that's all. Katniss could not take care of them and their mother at the same time. Katniss picked them; Katniss picked her.
Prim understands that and has never blamed her sister for it. Katniss was only eleven. It was too much to expect a little girl to keep all three of them going all by herself (it was still too much to expect after the two of them were on the other side of the fence, but her sister had managed anyway). Prim has been eleven for just a day shy of an entire year now. While eleven seemed very grown up to her when she was seven and following her sister into the trees, she now knows that eleven does not come with an intrinsic knowledge of how to do things just by virtue of being eleven. Everything Katniss managed was amazing, but there are some things that not even determination can accomplish.
Their mother was one of those things. She understands now that their mother was beyond caring. She didn't notice her daughters struggling or going hungry or shivering when there was no more coal to warm up the house. Maybe there was something that someone knew that could have helped with that, or maybe there was nothing that would have helped unless their mother decided that she didn't want to be that way any longer. Is it any wonder that Katniss had chosen to take the two of them off of their mother's hands?
She lets herself think about it as the milking comes to an end (after she will return to the cabin and the no talking about the past that reigns within those walls) - wondering what became of their mother.
Maybe she had gotten better without them there to remind her of their father -maybe it had hurt less without them there. Maybe there was time for her to heal better without the living breathing reminder of the loss of her husband invading her space each day. Maybe it had been easier for her without the extra responsibility and worry of two dependent little humans needing things from her of which she was not capable of giving.
Prim tells herself a lot of things (because she has no way of knowing if there mother is okay or if she continued to lay in that bed until she starved herself to death without her youngest daughter there to coax things down her throat). She doesn't know. She may never know - isn't sure she wants to know because she is okay most days with what happened but doesn't know if she will still be if she knows for sure that something worse resulted (isn't sure if she will still be okay if she knows for sure their mother was happier without them either).
She brushes off her skirt, gives the goat a few pats, and lifts the pail so she can exit their little lean to of a shed. The time for reflection is over - at least it is for now.
[(more)]
There is a lady that taught her how to make cheese from the milk from her goat that likes to say that birthdays and a new year are times to reflect on one's life choices. Since the goat had come to her as a gift from Katniss on her tenth birthday, Prim tends to be reminded of that saying (and a handful of other such things the woman is fond of saying whenever they happen to see her on one of the market days that the families that live scattered throughout the woods around hold to exchange goods and services and what passes for news) whenever she is taking care of the milking (milking gives you time to think like that). It's almost her birthday again, so she is letting herself examine a few things that she tries not to think about too often to the rhythm of the milk hitting the bottom of the pail.
Prim is never sorry that she followed Katniss into the woods on that day when it finally felt like there was some hope to be found again after a long stretch of where it felt like everything in the world was trying to push all of the hope out of them. She is sorry, sometimes, that they did not bring their mother with them when they ran away to the other side of the fence. She cannot help but feel that way even though she knows that their mother would not have come - if they had even managed to get a response on the suggestion out of her at all. There was something wrong with their mother in the weeks after their father no longer came home from the mine at the end of the day. She knows that the behavior that she saw from the woman was not normal - that was not just grieving. That was a sickness - one that her mother had never taught her how to treat. She used to think that was her fault - that if she had been older or bigger or had already learned more then she would have been able to help more. She never told Katniss that - didn't need to as it turned out because she learned to not feel like that anymore somewhere in the course of them coming here and building a little home for the two of them that wasn't so haunted with all the things they couldn't have anymore as their little house back in the District had become.
She knows Katniss is still not ready to talk about what happened back then (may never want to talk about it because Katniss doesn't talk about things like that if she can get around it), so she does not bring it up even on the days when she is desperate to ask some questions or be reminded that she is not alone in her memories). Their mother was sick and there was nothing that she and Katniss could do to fix it - that's all. Katniss could not take care of them and their mother at the same time. Katniss picked them; Katniss picked her.
Prim understands that and has never blamed her sister for it. Katniss was only eleven. It was too much to expect a little girl to keep all three of them going all by herself (it was still too much to expect after the two of them were on the other side of the fence, but her sister had managed anyway). Prim has been eleven for just a day shy of an entire year now. While eleven seemed very grown up to her when she was seven and following her sister into the trees, she now knows that eleven does not come with an intrinsic knowledge of how to do things just by virtue of being eleven. Everything Katniss managed was amazing, but there are some things that not even determination can accomplish.
Their mother was one of those things. She understands now that their mother was beyond caring. She didn't notice her daughters struggling or going hungry or shivering when there was no more coal to warm up the house. Maybe there was something that someone knew that could have helped with that, or maybe there was nothing that would have helped unless their mother decided that she didn't want to be that way any longer. Is it any wonder that Katniss had chosen to take the two of them off of their mother's hands?
She lets herself think about it as the milking comes to an end (after she will return to the cabin and the no talking about the past that reigns within those walls) - wondering what became of their mother.
Maybe she had gotten better without them there to remind her of their father -maybe it had hurt less without them there. Maybe there was time for her to heal better without the living breathing reminder of the loss of her husband invading her space each day. Maybe it had been easier for her without the extra responsibility and worry of two dependent little humans needing things from her of which she was not capable of giving.
Prim tells herself a lot of things (because she has no way of knowing if there mother is okay or if she continued to lay in that bed until she starved herself to death without her youngest daughter there to coax things down her throat). She doesn't know. She may never know - isn't sure she wants to know because she is okay most days with what happened but doesn't know if she will still be if she knows for sure that something worse resulted (isn't sure if she will still be okay if she knows for sure their mother was happier without them either).
She brushes off her skirt, gives the goat a few pats, and lifts the pail so she can exit their little lean to of a shed. The time for reflection is over - at least it is for now.