Ok so this chapter might be a little grusome in places, I don't know if that changes the rating or not? But I needed to put this chapter in. Please review and tell me what you think.
The scream leads me up a wooden flight of stairs and to what I presume is a bedroom. Opening the door I immediately drop my game bag as I am flooded with a horrible scene. On the bed lay the Bakers middle son shaking violently, his eyes rolled into the back of his head. A grotesque gurgling sound comes from his open mouth and his father and brothers are desperately trying to pin him down as my mother is force feeding him some herbs. The smell is vile, like the boys internal organs are rotting inside of him mixed with vomit and bile that is sprayed on the floor and bed around him.
Prim pushes past me with a bucket of water which she soaks a cloth in and washes the thick layer or putrid sweat off the boy's contorted face. He is now releasing animalistic cries so gut wrenching I find myself backing away from the scene shaking my head as if I can pretend it's a nightmare. But it isn't. I feel dizzy within the room just as the boy coughs out blood and resumes crying out. My mother looks up and upon seeing me desperately beckons me over.
I stumble over, "Katniss, under my bed there is an oak drawer. Pull it out and take off the blue cloth covering it. Inside there is a white box… I need it." She gives me one last pleading look; her face freckled with blood, before I bolt away.
The cold night air slams into my clammy face as I charge out of the house. I sprint as fast as I can. Every time I blink I see him unwillingly scream. His screams, circling the dazed current of my head, continue to torture me as my lungs start to burn from running. I'm gasping for breath but I can't stop. My blistered feet shout in protest but I keep going. That boy, the middle son of the Baker, is going to die tonight if I stop running. I don't know what's wrong with him, I don't know if mum and Prim can save him, I don't even know his name! But, I am completely positive that he is not dying on account of me not running fast enough. I will not let that happen. Having to look at his mournful family, there merchant blue eyes full of tears for their loss focused on me for not getting the white box to my mother fast enough. No. That is not happening!
I shake the dizziness and fatigue away and keep pounding the pavements as I reach the outskirts of the Seam. The cramp in my side clawing at me- demanding attention- but I won't give in. My nose and eyes are running, the boy screams still repeat in my ear and my whole body protesting against my continuous sprint. But the screams keep me running.
As I reach the front door to my house my foot catches on the frame and I go flying. I hear a sickly ripping sound as something cuts into my leg then I collapse in a heap in the room. Pain shoots up my leg, searing and spiteful like the sharp blade of a sword. It gouges a scream from the pit of my stomach as I clutch at my bleeding leg, desperately trying to put out the flames I'm sure are burning me from the inside out.
I hear the boys screams repeat in my ear and desperately try to get up again, clutching the door frame for support. The fire steals another yelp of pain as I apply pressure to my foot which I immediately pick up again. I see the boy's family so scared and hopeless, as the fire rages on. My face creases with pain as I hobble towards my mum's bed. Every step adds to the inferno and I find myself shaking with effort.
When I reach her bed I throw myself on the floor. My hands stretch out to the drawer and cling on regardless of the sweat that tries to make them let go. Pulling the oak drawer towards me I grab the blue cloth and tie it round my leg- pretending its shades of blue are water extinguishing the fire. As I wrap it round blood seeps though turning my water into more fire.
I desperately start rummaging through the box of books, photos and clothes. Until I see a white corner sticking up through a ripped grey dress. Removing the dress I see a white box with pink blossom delicately painted round the edge. I wedge it under my arm and crawl out of the room, leaving a smeared red trail behind me.
Once I reach the doorway I yank myself up onto both feet, igniting a new round of vipers biting and torturing my pleading foot. Ignoring the intense pain I clumsily stumble back into the night.
The route back is confusing. Shadows merge into buildings creating a fuzzy and scary setting for the roads I walk every day. The screams keep repeating themselves but I am unsure if they are my imagination or coming from me as my whole leg now feels like it's been dunked in acid. The cold air now seems like arrows penetrating my vulnerable flesh from the darkness.
Once out of the seam I feel determination rising through me as I continue through the pain. My eyesight is blurry and I think I have lost a lot of blood.
Tears spill over my eyes as I finally reach the Bakers house, I don't know how long I've been gone but I made it. Suddenly I think about what if I'm to late? What if because I couldn't deal with my leg quick enough the boy has died? And that would be my fault. Spurred on by this I run the last couple of meters and throw open the door.
I look around confused until my eyes fall on the wooden stairs which I know I have to climb.
One step… two steps… three steps. The slow pace I am forced to move in makes me want to scream again but this time in rage against myself. Then finally I fall knowing I can't get back up. I've reached my limit. I lay there drained and motionless. Breathing seems to involve too much energy which I didn't have. I try to shout for them, to tell them I made it but nothing came out. All the stress of the day piles onto me as I begin to silently weep.
I feel two arms go around my waist; they are sweaty like mine but feel secure and safe. I look up and see two blue eyes clouded with tears and I know this is one of the sons.
I remove the white box from under my arm and push it towards him. I don't feel it leave my hand but I can no longer see it their.
He places me on the cold wooden floor and leaves me there as he runs to the room on my right, with a white box in his hands. Keeping my eyes open is a hard task but I'm aware that I have to so I move my attention to my leg. The once blue cloth is now a dark red/black colour and his dripping wet. I shakily remove it to unveil a deep jagged cut going all the way up my lower leg.
The smell of blood films my nose and I'm forced to vomit the whole content of my stomach out on the floor beside me. I wipe my mouth and soon the dizziness returns.
My body gives in and the seductive darkness takes over quickly. And the pain slips away.
