1
Defiled
The lights begin to dim and a shudder runs through my entire body as I wait for his advance. The big man is hidden under the disturbing shadow, but I can still make out his pale, watery green hair and tanned, muscled arms. The shadows shift and light footsteps grow louder as he crosses the room. He smiles down at me – it's not a smile of affection but desire. He slides his hand up and down my arm, looking over my body. I imagine the trail of skin cells he strokes blackening and dying away. Absolutely anything would be better than having his touch linger on my skin.
He grabs me by the waist so tightly I know there will be bruises when I look over them later. He presses his mouth against mine roughly and lifts me back the few feet towards the enormous, white bed. The mattress sinks at the weight as he lays me down slowly, never letting his face leave mine. He climbs on top and assumes his control. But he hesitates at my rigidity, seemingly unsure whether I am enjoying myself. I resist a sob at my powerlessness and force a moan instead. Encouraged, he takes off where he stopped. He knots his hand in my hair, pulling at the roots, and lets the other roam my bare body. I want to scream and push away from him, but I know it won't help. He paid for me tonight; he will be having me tonight. So I let him slip his hand between my thighs and growl seductively, trying to force a reaction from my lifeless form. I shut my eyes tight.
'I actually heard you're really good. My friend had you last year.' He pauses. 'Show me how good,' he demands.
I shut my eyes again and exile any agonizing thoughts from my weary mind. 'Okay,' I whisper almost inaudibly and nod.
This was the only way I survived the aftermaths of the rebellion. When everything the Rebels built came down and the Capitol took over the country yet again. This was how I, and everyone else I could get my hands on, survived. By shoving every single thought of hatred and disgust I had for the Capitol into the tiny box chained inside, and turning the young girl who used to be me away. Especially when all I wanted to do was place the tiny, deep violet capsule, hidden and long forgotten by others, inside my mouth.
The instinctive response of my skin making hard contact with his was mechanical, and the action so separate from myself I did not need to be completely aware of what I was doing to do it. All I was knew was I was having sex with this green-haired man, and it needed to be pleasurable. I run my manicured nails down his smooth back and leave angry red marks from his neck to his waist while he kisses me. I roll the both of us over on the bed and get on top of him. This causes the silk sheets of the bed to fall to the ground. He smirks as he looks up at me, smug he finally received a response.
I quickly duck my head down to press my mouth onto his, and my long, dark hair drops to the pillow like curtains, covering the most part of his face. That's much better, I thought.
He starts shifting under me and sits himself up. My arms are tugged forward and I let him drag me onto his lap. I hug my polished body against his. His skin is extremely warm. Almost hot. He pushes my long hair to one side and presses his lips on my jaw. Then down my neck. He's blue, smooth hands are rubbing circular patterns on my back. I knot my hands into his short straight hair. His hand stops on the small of my back, and he gradually begins to lower me backward onto the bed. He breaks away to breathe, then climbs on top of me again. I wrap my slim legs around his waist and snake my arms around his head.
My eyes snap open. It takes me only a fraction of a second to realize how vulnerable he is. In one fluid movement, I could snap his neck and throw his limp body on the side of the bed. The desire to fight back builds up within me. I imagine kicking his dead body off the bed and then walking out the door. The longing to kill beckons for the first time in four years. I consider this option deeply while he kisses the hollow of my neck.
A long, intense minute passes before I sigh in defeat. He is not the one I need to kill. The usual feeling of vulnerability returns to me as I begin to release what may be my last chance of defiance. I untangle myself from his body.
When he's done, he falls back to the fluffy pillow beside me to try catch his breath. My night is done so I sit up straight and swing my feet of the bed. I stand and examine the room. It's a mess. I tie my hair in a low ponytail and begin searching for my clothes.
'Katniss, you can sleep here if you want.' The stranger offers patting the pillow beside his head, not even bothering to sit up and face me.
I ignore him, and scurry around the dark room, rampaging for my clothes. It's impossible to see anything in the darkness so I grope the wall for the light switch. The entire room suddenly lights up. I scan the disarrayed area for my clothes with an indifferent face. I don't gasp at the sight of Capitol rooms anymore. I've been here too long for it to have the same effect as it did five years ago, when I first arrived here.
'Fine. Go back to your insane husband.' He mocks humourlessly. 'I've heard rumours, you know? They say that he chopped up your mentor up one by one! Starting down from his foot up to his head.' The man laughs.
It was like a punch to the gut. I wince at the pain of the memory, and cross my arms over my stomach, trying not to choke up. I shake my head to clear it, but it only dizzies me and I begin to see sparkles everywhere. I stand frozen for a minute with my eyes closed. A low buzz hums in the background. When I've steadied myself, I continue looking for my clothes. I find my purple, sequin dress rumpled on the ground at the foot of the bed. It shimmers as I pick it up. Weirdly I notice tiny ants are crawling all over the material. I quickly shake them off, then throw it over my head and walk out the door coolly. The man breathes out in exasperation and rolls his eyes. By the time the door clicks shut, my cool pretence wears off completely. The sudden change of fragrance from the man's room to the Capitol's perfumed air leaves me nausea and I bend over and vomit up the little food I had inside my stomach. The clumps of ingested chicken from this morning cling onto my free hair. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and lean my back against the wall of the low-lit hallway. In the distance, I hear a couple laugh in their conversation.
This is disgusting. I pause in realization. I'm disgusting.
A rush of sympathy overcomes me as I think of Finnick, and how he has been doing this for over ten years. I realise there is also a pint of jealousy at his confidence and strength. I shake the wrong feeling from my body. I'm not ungrateful because I have been lucky; I'm glad I've only been doing this for only three years, but I'm sure I'll be alive long enough that I won't ever be glad again. I want to start crying. For both me and Finnick. And everyone else I can't help, but I force myself up. It's not the right time. I don't want anyone to see me so weak. I hurriedly clean my face when I see the man and woman from before pass me in the connecting hallway. They would've ignored me completely had the women not recognized me, they're faces are mixtures of excitement and curiosity at finding a Victor. The woman is in a pink dress draped with animal prints and begins to approach with thick, stumpy legs before catching sight of the puddle of mess beside me, seeping into the carpet.
She makes a sound of disgust and backs away. "Look at her. She's disgusting. I don't know why people talk about how gorgeous she is. She's not even that pretty," she says in a nasal voice. "I'm much prettier than her, aren't I Furnic?" She turns to her partner, expectantly. "Furnic?"
"Of course, Drella. She turned into this utter mess after Peeta killed their mentor. I heard from Livy that he actually set the large man alight! Beard first!' the man chuckles. "I hadn't heard that it'd dragged on this long though. I mean, it's been almost a year!" the man with the green top hat replies in an equally high voice as they sidestep past me. When they're out of earshot, I head for the exit.
I stumble out of the apartment building and am welcomed by the vividness of the Capitol's bright lights. The lights are always so blindingly bright within this city you can never see the stars – which suited me well. The stars always reminded me of the dead tributes being project upon the arena's night sky. There's always something to remind you of the Hunger Games in the Capitol. I drag my feet across the ground towards the sleek, silver Capitol limousine. Snow had made a point to give me everything a normal Capitol citizen would have; a car, apartment, clothes, everything. Everything that would rub into my face more, that I was never going back to District 12 or 13 again, that my home didn't want me back, and that now I was living in the very place that had sent me to my death in the first arena four years ago. He'd made me apart of the Capitol.
I open the door to new vehicle and dump my exhausted, defiled body into the vehicle, letting my body sink into the soft, comfy seat. The car drives smoothly and soon streaks of coloured neon lights flash across my window glass. This is the first time I have been alone all night. With no one to go to next. It's relieving. I lean back and cocoon my body into the seat. Then I remember solitude is always followed by memories. So before I know it, flashes of tonight, and every other night since the first time, screen in my head. However hard I try to push them away, they come back faster, stronger and clearer. I sob and wail in the back of the car incoherently. It's better I do it here, in the confinement of the moving car – where a black, sound-proof partition separates me from the elderly driver – than in the bathroom at home with Peeta banging on the door only a room away. The very mention of Peeta brings on a powerful flood of the painful thoughts I'd thought I locked away earlier. This was all so unfair. Even more so to him than me. I shake as the overwhelming waves of shame, guilt and depression pound on my already weak body.
This night, just like every other night, is one more reason why I am going to kill Snow.