Note: I just came back from Mockingjay tonight and it was incredible! Severe lack of Johanna Mason though so I thought I'd write this piece as I imagined her time off screen. Enjoy!
I remember the sky falling.
The stars and the clouds and the night all in pieces one after the other.
I remember that it was sickeningly poetic.
I ran with Peeta. We ran hard and we ran fast and he kept calling for Katniss. Others would save her. It was my choice to save him.
Stupid.
They came at us with guns. And with nets. With shots and tranquillizers. And so I screamed. And clawed and bit and punched.
They wouldn't take me lying down.
There were bright lights and questions. Injections into my arms and legs that made me bite my tongue and smile through blood.
Fuck you.
They kept me in a cell between questions. Opaque glass and a cot against the wall. Quaint almost. Like a hotel or a hospital. With torture as recreational activity.
I even asked for room service.
I heard Peeta sometimes. Heard him screaming and then him crying. I bit my lip to keep from it. I didn't want him to know I was hurt. I wanted him to see me as strong.
That we would survive for each other.
They used shocks then. Doused me in water then ran the wires between my fingers and toes. They shaved my hair and criss crossed the streams over my skull. I screamed. And I swore. I saw things that weren't real. Things in a past I no longer had. I saw my parents. And my brothers. I saw their eyes as they were shot in the back of their heads. I saw the rot and decay up and under their cheeks.
I no longer wanted to survive.
They dragged me into see Peeta. Let us lie next to each other as he took my hand before they shocked me again. I felt his hands tighten as he tried to hold onto me and I saw his eyes close as he heard me whimper.
Stay alive, the boy with the bread. Isn't that what Katniss called him?
The lights went out once and I couldn't see the tools they used. The difference between living and dying as they made me scream over and over. I saw blood on their faces when the lights came back on. They asked me again.
I spat blood in their face.
Snow came to see me once. A great honour so I made a curtsy with bloodied and bruised knees. He lifted my chin and looked at me, the broken teeth of my smirk. He nodded and let me go, let the others resume their work like I was a student he was evaluating.
How has my progress gone? Tell me what are my marks?
The lights went out again. I heard a crash. Once. And then twice. I curled into the corner of my cell and waited for the men to come. The ones with the tools and the water. The shocks and the questions. They were taking longer than usual. I would demote them marks as such.
It was one man who came.
One with a mask and a gun in his hand. I grinned as I saw him: all set and ready to rescue the damsel in distress. He looked the part more than I did. My bloodied skull and ripped gown.
What took you so long?
You're safe now I thought, letting him pick me up and carry me. Let him hold that illusion of hero a second longer.
You're safe now,
I wasn't.