Chapter 1

'How are we doing today, Ms Mason?'

I shut my eyes so I don't have to look at my nurse's gormless smile. He's the most clueless idiot I've met in my life.

'Are we ready to have a shower yet?'

I snort.

'We? Really? You want to jump in with me?'

I roll back over to gauge his reaction. He turns a delicate shade of pink, but disregards my comment.

'How is the pain today?'

'Terrible,' I say emphatically. 'I think you need to up my morphling dose.'

He gives me a knowing smile that makes my insides crawl.

'Is that so? Where hurts?'

'Everywhere.'

He gives me a mock sympathetic look. I'm not fooled.

'Now Ms Mason, I'm afraid morphling can't help emotional pain, it only-'

'Get out.'

'But I-'

'Get out right now. I'm not going to ask you again,' I hiss through gritted teeth.

Luckily for him, he leaves. I squeeze my eyes shut and block out the world. How dare he? Ok, I know I'm the definition of messed up. But that doesn't give other people the right to say it. I'm not exactly helping myself by lying here drugged out with no intention of getting up. But hey, after everything that happened, don't I deserve a bit of indulgence? Apparently not. Every half hour of misery and solitude is punctuated by the appearance of some idiot doctor or nurse trying to get me up, get me off my painkillers, get me to shower. Right. I'd like to see them be repeatedly dunked and electrocuted for months and then willingly step into water.

The dividing curtain of my room rustles. I don't bother to look up. It's going to be some nurse or quack. There's no one else who'd come to visit me. Finnick dropped by a few times when I first woke up, but he's got Annie to worry about now.

'Johanna?'

'What?' I snap. I look up. It's Mrs Everdeen. I don't mind her too much. She keeps her distance, not trying to offer false sentiments. I guess as one of her daughters is a victor she understands.

'Do you need anything?' she asks, changing my IV bag.

I give a bitter laugh.

'I need a whole heap of things, I'm sure, but none that I can think of.'

She smiles gently.

'Well let me know if you think of anything.'

'Wait, I've got it! Can you get rid of that horrible nurse who was in here before? He's a total douche.'

She checks her roster.

'I'm afraid we don't have anyone to spare, but I'll have a look.'

'Mum?' comes a voice from outside the curtain. Sounds like Katniss, but higher, younger. 'Are you in there? They need you in theatre.'

'Come in Prim, I'm almost done.'

The younger Everdeen sister slips around the curtain. Her bright blue eyes fix on me, and she smiles tentatively.

'What do they need?'

'Emergency appendectomy in Theatre 12.'

Mrs Everdeen suddenly stops, and looks at Primrose thoughtfully.

'Honey, your ward's just been taken over, hasn't it?

She nods.

'How would you feel about taking some shifts on this one? There's only about 6 patients at the moment.'

She looks a bit uncomfortable.

'By myself?'

'Do you think you could do it?'

She thinks for a bit, then nods.

'Great. I'll get Colin to show you how these new machines work later today.'

Colin, the creepy nurse. Hooray. But I'm glad it'll be the last time I see him.

'Now Ms Mason, I'm being transferred to another ward today, so I'm afraid this is goodbye!' Colin says with a cheesy grin.

'Shame,' I drawl sarcastically.

His smile becomes slightly fixed.

'Now, where's my replacement?'

He sticks his head outside the curtain.

'Primrose?' he calls in a pretentious voice.

A blonde head follows him back into the room. He gives her a patronising smile.

'Now, darling, I'm just here to show you the ropes, then you'll be all by yourself! Won't that be exciting?'

The look on Prim's face is far from excited. Colin bustles around showing her how to set the blood pressure machines, and the IV machine and all the weird beeping devices I have no name for.

'Well, I think that's all, Primrose! Good luck!'

He pats Prim superciliously on the head. She looks absolutely revolted. I stifle a laugh. She pulls a face behind him when he goes. I lift an eyebrow.

'Now, Primrose, that's not very professional behaviour, is it?'

She flushes.

'Just don't tell my mother,' she says, a bit embarrassed.

I laugh.

'Well now I've got something to blackmail you with,' I say slyly.

She blanches.

'But I probably won't, cos he's a f***tard.'

She goes from white to pink very quickly at my choice of language.

'Unless you take away my morphling,' I say severely. 'That's one thing we need to sort out if this is going to work. One, you don't take away my morphling. Two, you don't make me have showers unless I want to. Three, do not ever, ever, ever ask me how I'm feeling. Got it?'

'Ok,' she says quietly. 'But then you need to eat when I tell you to, get up and walk when I tell you to, and talk to the psychiatrists when they come. And you don't complain if I lessen your morphling dose a little bit every so often.'

I look at her calculatingly. To be honest, I wasn't expecting her to reply. I thought I'd intimidated her with my little speech, but honestly, how intimidating can I really be, lying in a hospital bed, with tubes in my arm in this pathetic looking hospital gown. And maybe this kid has more backbone than I gave her credit for.

'Fine. Whatever. Deal.'

There's a trace of a smile on her face.

'Thank you.'

She heads out of the room. At the last minute, she turns back.

'And if I'm not allowed to ask how you're feeling, then you'll have to tell me. Ok?'

'I think you should just assume that I'm feeling sh*tty all the time. Cos I am.'

There's sadness in those blue eyes. I roll my eyes and turn my back on her. No pity. That should have been my rule four.