Everything is quiet.
Too quiet.
And cold. It feels as if the very darkness around me were seeping deep into my bones. I grit my teeth as it presses against me, covering my eyes and ears, cutting me off from all my senses.
A dim light appears not too far from me, and I gratefully stumble towards it, the only thing that is distinguished from the surrounding blackness. As I near it I see a metal table. A lifeless figure is strapped to it. I shiver, although because of the cold or the unknown form before me, I don't know. Suddenly, somewhere out in the pitch black, a door slams, echoing through the dark. Footsteps approach, and then there's President Snow with his snake-like eyes boring into the shapeless lump on the table.
"Wake up," he hisses. His voice is like nails scratched across a slate. A shudder runs through me.
"Wake up," Snow repeats softly. "It's time to play…" He whispers it, like an old friend, all the while grinning wickedly. Goosebumps spring up on my arms, and suddenly the chill seems ten times colder.
The lump stirs, moaning feebly. I pick out a form in the dim light, and its head turns toward Snow's rasping voice. Now the thing's face is no longer in shadow, and I can see it fully.
My heart lurches down into my gut.
It's Peeta.
"Oh, Peeta, how wonderful," Snow croons. His malicious eyes gleam like a child that got a new toy for Christmas. "You've finally decided to accept my offer."
Peeta struggles to speak, but he only gets out a low groan that stabs at my stomach like a sharp knife.
"Oh, poor Peeta," Snow says softly, those snake-eyes just inches from Peeta's. "What ever can you do?"
Then he straightens and beams down at Peeta like a teacher looking fondly at a favorite student. Peeta's moans grow louder. As Snow's smile widens, Peeta begins to writhe. Soon his pain heightens so much that he's screaming in anguish. At this, Snow beings to laugh, a horrible, evil, ragged cackle that wheezes and rasps and shakes my bones like a saw cutting through a tree branch. Peeta's screams are pure agony, and suddenly, waterfalls of blood are flowing out of him, everywhere, and he clutches his head and keeps screaming while Snow cackles away, until finally, his body goes still…
I jolt upright with a strangled cry, sucking in breaths of air desperately. It was just a dream, just another nightmare, I try to reassure myself. I'm aware that my nightshirt and hair are sticking to me with cold sweat. Just another nightmare, I tell myself again.
From the floor to my right I hear a commotion. A muffled voice mumbles sleepily. "Wha'…? Ow!"
And then Gale emerges from his blankets, rubbing his head and mumbling under his breath. His sleepy eyes find me in the darkness. "Catnip? What's going on?"
I feel a little guilty about making him lie on the floor like that, but the thought of him sharing my bed with me like I did with Peeta seems so…intimate. It makes me uncomfortable just to think about it.
"Nothing," I lie. I try unsuccessfully to keep my voice steady. But Gale knows me all too well.
"C'mon, Catnip. Was it another nightmare?"
I consider telling him to go back to sleep, but I just can't keep it in any longer. I have to tell someone about it. Besides, he'd just keep asking me anyway.
"Yes," I say in a small voice.
Gale runs his hand over his tired face before getting to his feet and stretching with a yawn.
"C'mon, let's go for a walk. A change of scenery will do you good," he says. He extends his hand out to me. I take it, and he pulls me out of bed. As we make our way down the narrow hallway, Gale doesn't let go of my hand. Instead, he laces his fingers through mine. It feels nice, and I don't complain. I like knowing that I'm not alone. That I have a friend out here in this cold and alien world. But I get a strange, nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach, and briefly I it occurs to me that it means something different to Gale than it does to me…but I push the thought away.
We come to a darkened room where we can look out the hovercraft window and see the shadows flashing past. I take a deep, shaky breath and try to collect myself as I stare at the blurry shapes below.
Gale turns to me, half of his face submerged in moonlight and the other in darkness. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asks.
I don't want to relive my nightmare again, but I feel that if I don't share the horror that it might consume me.
"It was dark," I begin quietly. As I recount my dream I feel the darkness press around me again, and I have to keep reminding myself that Gale is with me now; I concentrate on the friendly pressure of his hand wrapped around mine to get me through it. But the darkness of the room reminds me of the darkness in the dream, of unseen things, and I shiver uncontrollably. Gale prods me to continue. When I mention President Snow, he presses his lips together slightly, and a little crease appears between his eyebrows, thrown into sharp relief by the shadows in the room.
"He started talking to the thing on the table," I continue in a whisper. "His voice was horrible and raspy. And then the thing moved, and I saw its face...it was Peeta." My voice breaks on his name, and I try to suppress the sudden flow of tears that threaten to spill out of my eyes at the memory. I must be strong. I can't cry. When I blink the tears back I see that Gale's expression has hardened, like a stone mask. But I can't stop now that I've started.
"And the most horrible thing is," I say in a trembling voice, "that…it could all be true." And suddenly I'm choking back sobs that rack my body with shudders and cloud my vision with hot tears. Gale pats my back mechanically, and through my blurred vision I see that his smooth mask is less composed now. Somehow this sparks my already-out-of-control emotions, and indignation flares up inside of me.
"What," I choke out, "do you not care that Peeta might be being tortured?"
My outburst catches him off guard, but now his mask has dissolved completely. Anger darkens his brow.
"No, I just thought...that since he was gone....Never mind!" he splutters furiously.
"You thought that I would just forget him, and be with you?" I shout.
He opens his mouth to retaliate, and then jams it shut, furious. But I know what he would've said.
"I've got news for you, Gale," I say through gritted teeth. "You're not the only one I care about. I care about Peeta, too. And sometimes I wish he was here instead of you."
A flash of pain colors Gale's features, and I almost want to take it back, erase it forever, but then Gale's gray eyes are piercing mine again, glowering, smoldering.
"Fine," he growls. "I guess I'll just disappear for awhile."
And then he turns his back to me, stalks back down the hall, and vanishes out of sight. I stare blankly after him.
I guess it turns out I was alone after all.
