This is my first Hunger Games Fanfiction so be kind, a little OOC.
Chapter One
There's a worse kind of torture than the usual physical stuff, things that they can do to you that time will never heal, you'll have no scars or bruises to show but you'll never be the same person that you were before. And the capitol specializes in this form of torture.
Many people wonder what could have been so bad that it left Annie like she is, of course no one talks, question, whispers or even try to think about it, we're all just so afraid of what could happen to us. We're all just so shallow and caught up in our own little debacles, to even take a second guess at what they do to you, so selfish, so petty, so very real though. Because the secrets and the affairs and were you bought your last loaf of bread are all just part of life, it's real, it happens. But in those small, dank, cold rooms hidden under the metropolis that is the capitol, they steal that right from you. You're not given the luxury of knowing what's real and what's one of the dark, twisted fairytales inject into your head as easy as giving you a simple shot of morphling.
I suffered through hours of tortures so painful the memory hurts, I listened to the ear piercing screams of men, women and children the capitol had no low they would not sink to. But the worst form of torture I brought upon my self, in some ways I think I deserve it, I should have been there to protect her, to hold her in my arms and tell her everything was going to be fine, to give up my life for hers. The more and more I think about it the more I think that it's my fault that her body lies lifeless, cold and bloody. It's my fault that her family will weep and grieve for months. But at least their scars will heal, at least they will move on. Me? Well the hole in my chest will never close, the dull ache I am rewarded each time I see a picture or video of her (the ones in which see is smiling in hurt the most, but she rarely smiled), the nightmare's that plague my sleepless nights.
The capitol finally had broken the young strong man that once stood in the centre of the room, now all they had was a scared little boy who spent his days whimpering in a corner. I had promised her that I would not break, that I would stay strong for the both of us, but what was I supposed to do when they told me the truth.
I had killed her.
I, the boy with the bread, had killed my friend, ally, fiancé, enemy, partner and most my love.
I had killed the girl who was on fire.
~Always Leaves Love Lady Nephilim