Her face is taunting me. "Where are you, District Seven?" Suddenly, she is right behind me, with a knife. I scream, but nothing comes out. As she brings the knife down into my body, the darkness rises up around me. The last thing I hear is "Johanna".
"Johanna."
I slowly blink and open my eyes. My mentor, Blight's face encompasses my entire vision. I start, and he grabs onto my wrist, as if to prevent me from falling. "Welcome back." He smiles warmly at me. I carefully sit up, taking in my surroundings. I'm lying on a narrow white bed, in a harshly lit room with pristine white walls. Machines are gently beeping in the background, and I look at my arm and see a tube dripping god knows what into my veins. I yank it out forcefully. I'm Johanna Mason. I'm stronger than this.
The beeping is abruptly cut off, and worried looking bespectacled man hurries into the room. "Ah, Johanna. I see you're awake," he says in a thin, weedy voice. "How are you feeling?" he continues. "Fine," I reply roughly, and I suddenly realize that I am safe. Nobody can hurt me now. I'm Johanna Mason, Victor. Blight senses how tense I am, and quickly jumps in. "You might have noticed, but the gash on your leg has been healed." He smells like pine trees. Like home. "And all your scars have been erased," he finishes. Not all, I think grimly. The invisible ones, that can't be healed by the Capitol's fancy medicine, those will stay with me forever. No one comes out of the arena untouched. Although I feel the same, deep down I know I have changed. I will never be the same.
An avox with coal black hair comes in the door. He silently hands me a thick, cream envelope, bows his head, and walks out the door without a noise. "What's this?" I look up at Blight, who shrugs, looking genuinely curious. On the front, written in formal, curling script, are the words 'Miss Johanna Mason'. I pull out a leaf of expensive paper, not like the stuff we make at home. It reads:
'The presence of Miss Johanna Mason is requested by the President at his private office.'
At first I am confused. Why would the president want to meet me? I hand the letter to Blight, and say, "So, what's the meeting about?" He shakes his head, puzzled. "I never had a meeting with him. This isn't the normal procedure. I wonder what he wants with you?" I shrug. I guess I'll find out soon.
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