The first thing I pick up on is the smell, that horrible stench of disinfectants that stings my nose. At first I expect I am still in the games, tucked away happily high up in a tree where no one knows. Where no one can find me, no one can even shoot a bow at me.
But I very much doubt the arena smells like this.
And then I hear the beeps. None that I have heard before, ones in a perfect rhythm. At first I think the Capitol has made a new mutation, one that you can hear coming from a while away almost if it's taunting me, showing that it can kill me in a heartbeat, even if I can see it coming. My eyes shoot open in a sudden panic just thinking about mutts, and the mysterious beeps speed up rapidly. Thats when I notice where I am, a very clean looking white room with equipment around me, a needle type thing is in my hand leading up to what looks like a bag of clear liquid, water maybe? Think about this, I say to myself. Put the pieces together, you know where you are, just think. Disinfectants, machines everywhere that don't at all look at they were designed for killing, that annoying beeping sound coming from somewhere... Then the word comes to mind: Hospital.
I have no idea how I know that from just my surroundings, sure I've heard other people talking about these places but I've never been to one being from District 12 and having my mother as a healer. It feels like hours that I have been just sat in silence, nothing but the beeping to keep me company.
I take note of my appearance. The grime that once covered my body had gone, along with the scars. How did that happen? Curiosity takes over as I reach up to feel the smooth surface of where Clove once cut me above my eyebrow and I spent time checking out some of the other places that had been previously damaged; including my leg where the skin looked brand new, not as if it had been burnt while I was running for my life in the arena.
"Don't touch too much." A high pitched voice snaps. A woman who looks around my mothers age stands in the doorway dressed in white and holding a clipboard. I can only assume she's my mother's age, people from the Capitol get all sorts of work done. There's no telling what's natural and what's not here.
Am I even in the Capitol anymore? Obviously I'm not in the arena, but I struggle to remember how I got here.
"Sorry," I mutter, moving my hand away from my hairy upper leg. I must have been here a while, my prep team made sure I was hairless before they would even bother with the rest of me. So many questions rush through my mind but I doubt this woman of all people will be able to provide answers, so I start by asking anything simple. "Where am I?"
"The hospital." she says rudely, walking over to inspect the bag of clear liquid next to my bed before jotting something down on her clipboard and taking another look at me. "In the Capitol, if that's what you're thinking." She rolls her eyes. Already I feel myself disliking her even more. She's obviously from here, she doesn't know any different than getting whisked away to a fancy hospital every time she got the slightest injury.
Not that I could blame her for how she was raised. People from my own district probably don't agree with my ways- taught how to hunt illegally from such a young age. Memories of my father threaten to make a reappearance but instead a familiar. almost comforting, voice says, "Driving the nurses crazy already, sweetheart?" Without thinking I snap my head to the doorway once again, it makes me kind of dizzy but I never thought that I'd be so relieved to see Haymitch. "Careful," he says in a serious tone. "We don't want to go through all that again."
"All of what?" I ask, eager to find out how I ended up here. I have a feeling I won't like it but I ask anyway, I'll find out sooner or later so there's no point in hiding it.
"What's the last thing you remember?" he asks calmly, walking over to take a seat on one of the uncomfotable looking chairs by the side of my bed. Instantly I can tell he's sober for once. No one in the right mind here will let him inside a place like this when he's drunk.
My last memory? Well that's being on top of the Cornucopia with the mutations after us. "The Games," I reply. "Did I win?" It's strange how I can't remember such an important fact like that. I then realise how stupid my question is, I wouldn't be here if I didn't win.
"Yes. You won, congratulations," he answers anyway.
"You don't have to congratulate me for the death of 23 people." I reply harsher than I intend. "Unless.. Did Peeta get out? is he okay?" Maybe he got out, maybe it was only 22 people. Two could win if they were from the same district, after all.
Haymitch shakes his head slowly, looking at me with sad eyes as if he'd lost his son. In a way, he has. I know Haymitch loved his company, even if he won't admit it. He wanted Peeta and I to be victors. Both of us, not just me. "I see." I whisper in response feeling my heart drop.
I try to think about how it happened, but it's like my memory has gone blank. Instead I decide to ask Haymitch.
"Mutations." He gives me a concerned look. "Would you like to watch it?" He indicates to the screen near my bed. Obviously in the Capitol even those sick in hospital get pleasure out of the less weathly teenagers die. Back home we have no choice but to watch it, even at school. The teachers can't stand it either, but what can they do about it? Although the teachers needn't worry about their names being drawn at the reaping the following year. They must have some years ago, but now they're perfectly safe as many of the children will be in years to come.
Haymitch still waits for a response, the TV control in his hand. "No.. No, thank you." I find myself fiddling with the gown, I feel bare for some strange reason.
I'm the victor of the 74th Hunger Games.
I don't feel any different, I thought I would.. But I just don't. I feel sad. Disappointed I didn't have Peeta here to share the glory. In fact, glory is not the right word, more like relief for being alive and guilt for the 23 dead. Not all of them were my fault, Marvel and Glimmer definitely.. I caused a few tracker jacker stings but maybe nothing else except those. I'm not sure if my intention was for Glimmer to die, I just wanted them out of the way so I could exit the tree in safety. I think back to the amount of leg hair I have gained. "How long have I been here?" I ask Haymitch.
He furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head to one side while he thinks, "A month, maybe. You were messed up in there." He points to his own head, meaning one thing- I went crazy. That came as no surprise, I don't even want to think about my reaction after losing Peeta. Thinking everything over, I then realise I haven't the slightest clue regarding his death.
"I want to see it." I look directly at the TV controls in Haymitch's loose grip.
"It's not pretty." he sighs, working the controls out until a random channel comes on. I recognise it immediately, it's a repeat of Peeta's interview with Caesar Flickerman. Haymitch must sense how uncomfortable this makes me, he hits the mute button quickly before speaking again, "If you're not ready to see this, it's fine. You just woke up, you don't want to trouble yourself even more."
"I want to see it." I repeat sternly, looking at the screen and feeling sicker than I already am at the thought of the whole of Panem seeing his death, as if it doesn't matter.
To the people of the Capitol, it really doesn't matter, it's literally just a game for them.
To those back home, it's much different than that. An innocent child has been taken away and brutally murdered in front of everyone, and there's nothing anyone can do about it.
"There." Haymitch points to the screen, the interview has ended and it switches to footage of when Peeta, Cato and I are on top of the Cornucopia. Cato holds Peeta tight, blood dripping down his face and Peeta's face going pale. I'm just stood there.. What was I thinking? I was trying to think of a way to save Peeta. Obviously.
My memory is blank up until that point. Then I see what happens.
"Cato, please." I beg, tears spilling down my cheeks. I'm stood staring at them both, probably deciding my next move. Cato shoots me one last look, and even from watching it and TV and not remembering the moment it's clear what he's trying to say.
He just stares at me for a minute. 'I have to try and win.' I can see it in his eyes, and that means killing me too.
"No!" I screech, lunging forwards to get Peeta but it all backfires. Peeta was almost unconscious, but the sound of my steps startled him. He falls out of Catos arms, plummeting to the ground where the mutts await. Cato's knife slices his neck a little as he falls.
It's too late, with his leg and the mutts, he couldn't make it. No way he could survive.
My face crumples and I collapse onto the hard surface of the Cornucopia. The loud smack of my head against the metal brings Cato back to reality. I can see my chest moving up and down. I'm still breathing. I'm still alive.
Cato drops the bloodied knife, it clangs against the surface making a harsh noise. He rushes over to where I'm curled up then stares straight up. He knows where the cameras are- they're everywhere. "I won't do it!" he cries. "You can't make me!"
He loses it and sinks to the ground, clenching my grimy hand. "Wake up.." he says quietly. "I'm sorry."
I know from then that the whole of Panem must have had the same reaction to what I have when watching this on the screen. Silence, utter silence as the killing machine of the Games finally snaps.
"You killed Clove!" he yells up at the sky again. "See what you did? This isn't funny! If you're own sick amusement is watching others loved ones die and then making them go nuts, you're crazy! You've ruined us, turned us into monsters.." he says the last sentence quieter than the previous one, "I'll kill us both. I will! Believe me! Then what victor will you have? None!"
The sound of the hovercraft roars over us. Then the clip ends.
The only words I can manage to utter out are, "His family.."
"Gone." replies Haymitch. He lets out a loud sigh before he continues, "They televised it and forced Cato to watch."
"How did they.." my voice trails off as I imagine them doing the same to my family. Prim, my mother and probably Gale murdered because of a stupid mistake I made. I feel bad for asking, but I know I'll find out sooner or later.
"Shot." he says quickly. It's like even saying that hurts him- I shouldn't have asked. "They just barged into their home and shot them dead." He answers the next question that comes to mind before I can even ask, "Three of them. The mother, father and younger brother."
Unable to think of anything to say, I just nod to show I understand. Of course, I can never understand something like that. The closest memory I have is my father being killed in the mines but the Capitol didn't force me to watch him being blown to bits. I have to hold down the vomit just thinking about it. "Where's Cato now?"
"Down the hall."
"But won't the Capitol be angry? There's only ever been one victor each year, and now there's two.. I mean, there was supposed to be two if they're from the same district but he's from District 2.. I'm from District 12."
Haymitch nods almost mocking me. The corners of his lips twist into a smirk but then it drops as if he remembered something. "Yes." That's all he says before walking out of the room, leaving me alone in the silent room.
I'm not sure if it was to give me space so that I can think everything through or so that I can grieve over Peeta.
I do both.
I do not care who's watching, the nurses, Haymitch, snotting Capitol citizens. Your so called Girl On Fire cries, happy now?
I get comfortable in the bed and bury my head into the clean white pillow, a strong scent of disinfectant from the pillow almost makes me throw up.
Cato is alive, Peeta is not.
I wish it was the other way around, Cato does not deserve to live. He killed so many people, including Rue. It might not have been him with the spear, but there was no doubt the Careers had planned it. Tears roll down my cheeks and hit the pillow as I take it in that Peeta is really gone, dead forever. He can't come back. What will his family say?
My boy with the bread is dead, the one who saved my life those years ago. The dandelion.
I couldn't even thank him. He kept me alive, but I didn't return the favour.
My mind flashes back to those days in the cave- our first kiss.
It might have been strange for some as Peeta was burning up with fever and almost dying with blood poisoning, but a kiss is a kiss. It's not the circumstances, it's the person that you're with. He loved me, but I never loved him back.
My heart sinks.
I never loved him the same way and he knows it, I bet. Could he tell I was acting for the sponsors? For the food, for the life saving medicine?
What if I had never found him by the lake.. If he was already dead because of his leg.
His leg. Another reason to hate Cato.
I'm unsure if I am angry or sad, but either way I'm crying my eyes out. After a few minutes I have tired myself out and I fall asleep. I do not dream, but when I awake I see Haymitch by my bedside as he was earlier. Rather than the relief I felt earlier, I feel empty. I want Peeta to be there, not Haymitch. I pretend to sleep and cry silently, wishing I had Peeta to hold me again.