It's the things we love most, that destroy us

- Chapter 2 -

"Lilly Mellark" my mother's voice booms behind me. I stop dead in my tracks. Gulping nervously, I twist around and plaster the most innocent smile as possible on my stoned face. Of course, she sees right through my disguise with her arms crossed, face stern and grey eyes observing me carefully.

"Kitchen, now" she orders, from the corner of the hallway. Swiftly, I run down the stairs and into the kitchen.

My father awaits me, his pale blue eyes hold more worry than my mother's. He was always more worrisome than her, always more sympathetic as well.

On the wooden counter stands two lonely cups of cold coffee, meaning they must've been awake for a long time waiting for my return. They only use it for special occasions since it's so hard to come by in the Capitol shops.

"Sit" my mother orders me once again like a general, gesturing to an empty seat opposite them both. Without any hesitation, I sit myself down onto the stool, placing my guitar on the wooden table. Feeling uncomfortable with the silent tension waffling throughout the air, so thick you could cut it with a knife, my fingers begin to fidget with the strings on my guitar, plucking each one by one until my mother eventually snatches it and placing behind her on the kitchen counter.

"Where were you ?" she questions, intensely staring at me, "the meadow" I mumble, picking at my nails. "The meadow, are you joking Lilly ?!" her voice rises and her hands go up in aggravation. "What would've happened if you were caught by the peacekeepers, especially of all days on reaping day"

I shiver as a memory from only a year ago surfaces in my brain. Obviously, I had gone into the forest to practice my singing with my guitar and pick some edible flowers for my father's cakes. Like usual, since the fence is electric and they have chains surrounding the bottom, I have to climb over. I pulled myself up a tree and jumped off on the rickety roof of my mother's old home.

I was already worried about curfew and getting caught so I ran all the way home, racing the sunset itself. Thank god, I had composed myself before walking in because what awaited me was Thread and another peacekeeper.

"There's our little flower" my mother beamed, her grey eyes widened in question. She gently shrugged the guitar off my shoulders and puts it in the kitchen, where I smelled fresh bread being baked.

"Good evening Ms Mellark" Thread greeted, a hint of sarcasm in his tone when he said 'evening'. He's an ugly man, whose nose is sharper than a shard of glass. "Good evening" I greeted back only to be polite and locked eyes with my mother who begged me to not say something stupid.

"May I happen to ask what were you doing at this time at night ? Especially this near to curfew" he patronised me and I swallow down the uncomfortable lump in my throat. "I went to the village square and bought some chords for my guitar and flowers for icing" I thanked god when I took out the handful of flowers and the few chords I had in the pocket of my skirt "there was a last minute order for a wedding cake"

Briskly, Thread nodded his head and shared a look with the peacekeeper beside him. It was there and then I knew they were waiting here to catch me out, to wait till I come back home after curfew.

"What was that message again ?" my mother asked, I could tell she was hating how long he'd been in our house and her patience was growing thin. "It's about the reaping, be at the Justice Building at one thirty" he had said.

"Fine" my mother nodded and the hallway was drenched in silence and tension. In other words, my mother basically told him it's time to leave. It was then my father returned out from the kitchen, his bakers hands were covered in white flour.

"Thanks Lils" my father winked and I eagerly threw the colourful flowers into his palm and he tucked them into the pocket of his apron. "All right then" Thread sputtered, his heartless gaze wandered around us "have a.. swell rest of your night"

"You too" my mother forced out and quickly forced them out the door before they could question me more.

That day was too close for any comfort and still plays in my nightmares. I wonder what Thread would've done to me if he did catch me out that day ?

"Katniss, it's okay she's home now" my father tries to calm her, placing his hand on her shoulder, "no it isn't Peeta, there's eyes everywhere and eyes always come with a pair of ears. Listening, watching, waiting - they could've caught her" she exclaims in an exasperated tone. "I needed to go" I say, breaking their conversation ; both of them turn to me with confusion "It would probably be my last time" I finish with a quiver in my voice.

The kitchen falls deathly silent and my mother's eyes glass over in a way i've never scene before - it was if something had taken over her mind replacing reality with lies, pain and nightmare only she can see.

Right away, my father notices, "Lilly go upstairs and get dressed" he states quickly but somehow i'm unable to move, my gaze transfixed on my frozen mother. "Now" he states again, his voice louder. That alone breaks me from my trance, because his voice is always calm and steady not worried and tense.

Hurriedly, I bolt back into the hallway and race up the staircase, only to stop at the top at the sound of my mother's cries.

"Peeta, she can't get chosen, she'll die in that arena" she weeps, her breathing rapid and heavy, "Katniss, she's safe, she won't get picked even you know that. Lilly's name is in there 3 times, some have 30" my father calms her. I can already picture him with both hands massaging her shoulders, stroking her back, pressing calming kisses to her forehead. I've always wondered how someone like him has ended up with someone like her, a rapt and rigid woman, who frowns more than she smiles.

"Snow will make sure she's picked" my mother emotionlessly murmurs after a minute of silence, but my father, who never doesn't have a solution, remains quiet as a mouse. The only noise in the house is the crackling of the vibrant flames of the fire in the living room.