Part Two

I wake up on cold surface of the bed, a little confused as to what had happened over the past few hours. As my body begins to wake up, I start to recall the meeting I had with President Snow. I tremble a little once I can fully remember everything that had been said. It is hard to wrap my mind around the fact that Katniss is there fighting against the Capitol… without me. My heart stings a little more as I remember that Gale is probably with her as well. I know that he would not miss a chance at fighting with the rebels.

I notice that a new tray of food has been placed on the floor next to the bed. I have completely lost track of time while confined here, so I have no idea if this is breakfast, lunch, or dinner. I do notice though that the bread is still warm and has a slightly greenish tint to it – district four, one of my favorites. I slowly eat it piece by piece, letting my hollow stomach adjust to the sensation of food again.

After finishing the salty bread, my dry throat aches for something to quench it. As opposed to a bottle, this time there is a small cup of yellow juice sitting at the corner of the tray. Hoping that this is not another trick to sedate me, I tentatively sip the juice. After a moment or two without any noticeable side effects, I gulp down the rest, instantly wishing I had more.

Almost as if someone had been listening to my thoughts, a voice suddenly fills the room.

"There is more of it where that came from," I hear President Snow say, his voice echoing against the stone walls, "But you must agree to cooperate."

I slouch down on the bed, leaning my head back against the wall and stare up at the ceiling, waiting for him to say more. There is a moment of silence.

"First, before we continue with another meeting, I would like to show you what you have missed during the time you have been here. It has been nearly two weeks since we removed you from the games," he said, surprising me.

I guess he can somehow see the reaction on my face, from where ever he is, and he adds, "We kept you sedated for a long time while we attempted to repair the damage done to you during those last few minutes in the games."

That would definitely explain how much time had passed. To me, every hour goes by so agonizingly slow. I continue to look around the ceiling, trying to find the source of his voice. After a minute or so, I sigh.

"What did you want to show me?" I ask, knowing how defeated I sounded.

Suddenly, an image is projected on the wall in front of me; live broadcasts that the Capitol has been playing throughout the districts over the past couple weeks. District after district, individually rebelling against the Capitol and the President himself. I can't believe my eyes. How is this happening so fast?

As I watch these broadcasts, my eyes are ever searching the backgrounds, looking for a flash of a braid, or the color of her eyes, coming up short with each one. Katniss is nowhere to be found amongst these shots, so she must still be hunkered down in district 13, doing who knows what. I want so badly to be there with her. I was going to get there somehow.

The screen disappears and Snow's voice fills my room once more.

"I would like to meet with you later today. And no, that is not a question or a simple invitation. You will be brought to me to discuss things further. And if all goes well, we could be getting you out of that box you are currently living in." he tells me coldly.

He finishes with "That is all," and leaves me to my thoughts for the next few hours.

I'll meet you there,
No matter where life takes me to,
I'll meet you there,
And even if I need you here,
I'll meet you there.

I know that no matter how much I cooperate with Snow, there is no way that I will be leaving here for district 13. It was probably the one thing he was trying to prevent the most. And no matter how hard I try, I can't come up with a single escape plan. I know nothing about the building I am being kept in, or for that matter, where the building is even located. I have only seen this room and the medical room, and nothing in between. I am completely clueless.

This realization greatly distressed me. There is so much I wanted to tell her. I had not been shy with my feelings over the past months. She knew exactly how I felt about her. Yet, I was still unsure of how she truly felt for me. Some of our exchanges were so forced, so mechanical, that I couldn't delude myself into believing any of it. Others though, like a select few moments within the games, I could've sworn there was something so much stronger.

I wish that I had had more time to convince her. Time away from the games, and our stylists, and the screaming crowds of people. More time with just the two of us, alone, face to face, no more secrets. I want to tell her more of how I had fallen in love with her as we grew older. How my need to protect her is because I simply cannot picture my life without her. And now that I was being forced to do that, I'm so scared.

I wish I could have told you,
The things I kept inside,
But now I guess its just too late.

I'm not sure how much time has passed, but I am dragged back out of my thoughts by the same two guards standing in my doorway. I guess this means they are going to let me walk myself this time, instead of drugging me first. I allow them to grip my upper arms and lead me through a maze of hallways.

The plush red carpeting and the dark oak wood on the walls tell me that this must be somewhere in the President's mansion. I recognize the features from some of his live broadcasts on television. Still, as I try to remember the path that they are leading me on, my mind gets terribly confused and I can't remember how many different turns we have taken.

Soon enough, we arrive outside of a door that looks just like all of the others that we have passed along the way. The moment the guard opens it for me, the familiar smell from inside washes over me and I realize that we were back in the same room as before. I feel my pulse quicken though when I see a stretcher placed in the center of the room instead of the metal chair. This means I won't just be having a simple conversation this time…

President Snow is nowhere to be found, but I manage to spot two doctors moving around the room, preparing an IV next to the bed.

"Welcome Peeta," Snow's voice speaks from the ceilings again. So this is how it's going to be from now on? "Please lay down on the bed so we can begin our treatments. If you refuse, please understand that we will continue with the procedure anyway, so it is best to do as we ask."

The guards release my arms, but hover a few feet away, and I walk to the stretcher and sit down. "What type of procedure is this going to be?" I ask him in a worried voice.

There is a pause, and I assume that he is trying to find the best choice of words. This makes me even more nervous. "We plan to, help you deal with some of your memories, so to speak," he says, and I'm puzzled, "This way, you are more equipped to help the Capitol's cause."

Before I have time to protest, one of the doctors has pricked my arm with a needle and secure the IV in the crook of my elbow. The other doctor forces my shoulders backwards and lays me flat on the bed. I only just feel the buckles lock shut around me when the pain sears through me like burning coals.

I cry out, straining desperately against the bed, but these straps hold me tightly down and there's nothing that I can do to stop the pain. I scream in agony, the white ceiling beginning to spin and dance in front of my eyes. A doctor leans over to check my pulse, but his face is distorted somehow and I watch as his hands morph into long, sharp claws. What is going on? What is happening to me?

The walls begin to emit an eerie fog that creeps down from the ceiling, threatening to swallow me up. By this point, I am hyperventilating, but I have no effort left in me to pull against my restraints. My muscles have turned to complete jelly, for the pain is everywhere now, burrowing deep down into my nerves. I feel the pain start to pull me under and the corners of my eyes begin to sparkle, a sign that I am going to become unconscious any second now. Right before I do, the fog that has been inching towards me turns to a thick black wave, crashing down on me, only adding to the pain.

Now I'm submerged within my memories, like a dream. I mean, I guess that's what's happening, because I can't quite remember how I got here. It's like I'm sitting in front of a television screen, watching all of my memories scroll by. But something is… different. I can't exactly place it, but the memories seem to have shifted; telling me a different story now.

From somewhere very far away, I can hear a muffled voice speaking my name, but it sounds as if I'm trapped underwater, and I struggle to hear it.

"Peeta," it says in a slow, garbled voice, "This is part of your treatment. Please, just relax, it is almost over now."

I don't know who is speaking, or what they mean, because now I'm trapped, watching images that I would have never believed possible. Yet here I am, seeing them pass before my eyes. And if they are in my mind, then they must be true.

I'm back inside the arena with Katniss, but everything about her has changed. I watch as she takes people down with her arrows, one by one, a look of pure pleasure in her eyes. How could I have possibly missed this? I have deluded myself into believing that she was protecting me, when she actually enjoyed the games… they were like a sport to her.

And all those times when faked a kiss to "protect" the people of Panem? I remember clearly now how she always made sure there was a camera in sight, and how she craved the attention. I had always accepted that she was doing these things for the benefit of our nation, but not realized until now that I was just a trophy to her. It meant nothing.

I barely have time to recover from these realizations when another memory hits me. The image itself is only a mess of cloudy colors, but I can hear people talking very clearly. After a moment, I realize that this must have been while I was being healed, when I first arrived here.

"She is now a mutt," President Snow says from somewhere around me. So blunt, so direct. I listen closer to determine who they are speaking of. "The rebels of 13 have altered her, as we have done to citizens before. But this is different. She is now a killing machine, hell-bent on destroying the Capitol and anyone who stands in her way. She is not doing anything on her own any longer. All decisions are being made by someone higher up. She is merely following orders. She is much more dangerous than we first assumed. This is a different girl."

The longer I listen, the more disgusted I become. It doesn't take me long to realize that they are referring to Katniss. A mutt? I can't believe it, I can't believe she would let them do that to her so willingly. I don't want to think about it.

More and more memories pass; memories that I must have been suppressing, for each one makes me remember the situation differently. I look at Katniss and so many other things with new eyes. I don't even have time to take it all in before it all begins to fade away, taking me with it.