From Dandelion (Katniss + Peeta's daughter) POV
I pushed the crimson liquid from above my eyelids, pressing my tatty, grimy sleeve to the wound. The ground spun around me, my vision blurred from being brutally slammed against the cell wall. I could only just make out the door being slammed and the small slit of light growing fainter and fainter. Thinner and thinner until it disappeared completely.
A small, dim bulb hung from the ceiling, flickering and fading as it swung back and forth with the ear splitting screams and stamps from upstairs. I shuddered, curled into a ball and pressed my eyes tightly shut.
"This can only be a dream. This can only be a dream" I muttered over and over, trying to convince myself. I wearily gave in to the pain and fell asleep.
I awoke after what must have been two hours. The bleeding had stopped but the blood had dried into my eyebrow, forehead and eyelids. My hair was grimy and greasy, turned from light brunette to black/green from the damp, muddy walls surrounding me. Water (or what I assumed was water) dripped from the ceiling, making the light fizz and flicker. The light itself only lit about a metre around it, making me squint to see. An over-sized shirt that looked black in the eery light and some flannel trousers ripped at the knee covered me loosely. I was completely caked in dirt, so much it completely covered the purple bruises all over my body, caused by the brutal peacekeepers throwing me around this room. They did it for no apparent reason. I guess its all just light sport to them.
They took me last night, the night President Paylor was murdered. Supporters of the old, cruel president Snow had risen up, taking the Capitol once more and turning it back to its original form. My mother told me all about the days before I was born. I remember her worried face, staring into mine, my father gripping tightly to her shoulders as though trying to protect her. We were hidden in the basement from the rebels when she told me, their thundering footsteps echoing above. She was rushing through the tale, her hushed tones incredibly urgent. Darius, my younger brother, was crouching beside me, holding onto my arm for dear life, all the while their boots sending cascades of dust from between the floorboards. They were searching all over for us, and for I bit I thought I was going to be safe, until one person pushed the rug hiding the trap door back gruffly, grunting with pleasure as he informed his boss. They smashed the lock and wrenched the door off its hinges, terror shot through my soul. Marching down the stairs they pulled out their guns, pointing them at us. My mother and father stood up, putting a shield between me and Darius and the guns. They just laughed at the attempts to protect us and exchanged brief thoughts on what to do with us. They grabbed my mother by the arms dragging her away though she kicked and screamed. Dad lunged at one of the men carrying her and knocked him down to the floor though three other men had already surrounded Dad by that time, dragging him away too. My mum continued to struggle so one of the men slowly drew an iron bar from their tool belt, bringing it down with force onto her head. Blood streaked the bar and streamed from her head. I let out a blood curdling scream as I watched the terrible scene unfurl though another peacekeeper quickly silenced me with a blow to the stomach. I carried on kicking and punching, my arms now randomly flailing through the air attempting to force pain onto everything they reached. I caught a peacekeeper square in the jaw causing him to loosen his grip. I tumbled out of him arms and looked around for my love ones, who had already gone. Standing there, shell shocked, I was practically letting the armed guard take me but before I could try to scramble away, to chase after my family, my head was met with a blow and it went black.
Thats how I got here, in this cell with peace keepers coming to take their anger out on me. The door was thrown open again and I cowered away from the peacekeepers boots. He kicked me away with such force I was slammed into the opposite wall, into the shadows. I could vaguely make out what was happening through the swollen slit of my black eye. Someone else was being thrown in.