He had been right. It's one of the first thoughts to filter through Katniss' mind when she wakes up that morning. Derek had been right. Although she can't speak to his personality yesterday, it's all too obvious to her that she hadn't been herself. Everything about the previous day comes rushing back to her. Katniss remembers everything about the previous day in crystal-clear detail. She remembers everything about the past two days in crystal-clear detail.
That hadn't been her. In either case, it hadn't been her. Maybe, under other life circumstances, she would have easily sung as much as she had. When Katniss had been five and much more innocent to all the tragedies life had to offer, she had eagerly sung whenever provided the chance. That girl had disappeared the second Katniss had actually comprehended what was happening in the 65th Hunger Games. And understood clearly why they occurred.
Someone had done something to her. She's seen the effects alcohol could have on Haymitch and the effects morphling had at dulling the pain of those addicted. It stands to reason that some kind of drug had been affecting her too.
So Katniss avoids the cafeteria, spending mealtime wandering around the hallways and keeping to herself. She isn't moping like she had her first few days in Alpha Complex but most strangers that tend to look her way are greeted with a scowl. In fact, Katniss does her best to avoid most social encounters all together. She doesn't want to be reminded of how lose she had been with her kisses. She doesn't want to be reminded of any of her behavior the previous two days.
Some people are easier to avoid than others. She goes to work and keeps as busy as possible with clients. She makes certain not to be anywhere near the cafeterias when people go in and out. And when evening comes, she finds herself hiding at one of the firing ranges, shooting arrow after arrow at a target. By then, she's at least acquiesced to drinking water. But her stomach grumbles loudly. It's okay, she can handle it. Hollow Days were a large part of her childhood after all.
All Day | Open
That hadn't been her. In either case, it hadn't been her. Maybe, under other life circumstances, she would have easily sung as much as she had. When Katniss had been five and much more innocent to all the tragedies life had to offer, she had eagerly sung whenever provided the chance. That girl had disappeared the second Katniss had actually comprehended what was happening in the 65th Hunger Games. And understood clearly why they occurred.
Someone had done something to her. She's seen the effects alcohol could have on Haymitch and the effects morphling had at dulling the pain of those addicted. It stands to reason that some kind of drug had been affecting her too.
So Katniss avoids the cafeteria, spending mealtime wandering around the hallways and keeping to herself. She isn't moping like she had her first few days in Alpha Complex but most strangers that tend to look her way are greeted with a scowl. In fact, Katniss does her best to avoid most social encounters all together. She doesn't want to be reminded of how lose she had been with her kisses. She doesn't want to be reminded of any of her behavior the previous two days.
Some people are easier to avoid than others. She goes to work and keeps as busy as possible with clients. She makes certain not to be anywhere near the cafeterias when people go in and out. And when evening comes, she finds herself hiding at one of the firing ranges, shooting arrow after arrow at a target. By then, she's at least acquiesced to drinking water. But her stomach grumbles loudly. It's okay, she can handle it. Hollow Days were a large part of her childhood after all.
Or so those damned glitched memories say.