Chapter Two
-Five hours later-
Thump. Thump. Thump. I could hear my head thumping. Thump. Thump. Thump. I could hear my heart beating. I could hear footsteps. A heart monitor machine. Beep. Beep. Beep. I tired to open my eyes, but they were glued shut. No, not glued, just heavy. I forced them open, and winced at the brightness of the room. I tried to sit up, but screamed as pain shot through my abdomen. I hear more footsteps, more rushed than before, but I couldn't see anything. I then realised my eyes had closed again. I decided to leave them that way for now. The white room was too bright.
"Katniss?" a voice in the distance said. "Katniss, can you hear me?" I groaned in response, and heard a sigh of relief, probably from my mother. I wondered absently if she was still drunk. Most likely. "Katniss, can you open your eyes for me?" said the voice, who I assumed to be a nurse or doctor. I pried my eyes open and once again winced at the bright room. After my eyes adjusted, I saw myself staring up at two women. One was my mother, and the other an elderly looking nurse. I was right about my mother. She looked very drunk, or at least hung-over. She stumbled to my side and collapsed to her knees.
"Oh Katniss," she half sobbed, half laughed. Her breath smelled of alcohol, and I pushed her away. She looked hurt, but backed off.
"Wh-what happened to me?" I stuttered. No one said anything, but Mum started crying silently. "Please tell me, I can't remember."
"We were packing to move to America," Mum explained. "And your father…" her voice dropped out as memories flooded back. I remembered the whole thing.
"Katniss?" the nurse asked. "Katniss can you hear me?" I could, but I didn't respond. I knew tears were running down my face, but I didn't do anything to stop them.
"He tried to kill me," I whispered. "My father tried to kill me." Nobody responded. My father had stabbed me, and carved up my back. Was this even happening? It couldn't be.
"Yes," my mother finally said, snapping me out of my memories. "Yes, h-he tried to kill you." She started sobbing again. I looked over to the nurse as if to say get her out of here. The nurse nodded in response, and picked up my mother by her shoulders, leading her out. I sighed in relief, a bad moved. I winced in pain as my stomach muscles contracted. The nurse entered the room again.
"So how are you feeling love?" she asked me in a thick British accent.
"Fine," I lied. I just wanted to get the hell out of there. She walked over to me.
"May I?" she asked, indicating to my stomach.
"Sure," I said, throwing back the sheets. She lifted up my gown, and started poking around my wound.
"Well, its not infected," she said, smiling. "You should be just fine." She smiled down at me, placing my gown back in place. I smiled back at her, wishing she could be my Mum instead of the stupid , drunk bitch that was. Right on cue, Mum burst through the door, nearly falling down in the process.
"We need to go now," she slurred to the nurse.
"Excuse me?" the woman asked my mother.
"We already missed the first plane, wee need to go!" Mum repeated. Of course this was totally like her, she only ever thought about herself.
"Well she looks fine, but I wouldn't advise her leaving," the nurse said. I had just noticed her name tag read Sadie.
"Yes, well she is fine, aren't you Katniss?" She turned to me, and I nodded. Not because I wanted to go with her, but because I wanted to get the fuck out of the hospital. I needed a new start. A new life.
"Well in that case, you are free to leave," Sadie said, and I smiled.
"Thank you," I said to her, and I sat up, trying not to wince as I did so. I didn't want to give them any reason to keep me here.
~Thursday, March 10, 2011~
The plane ride was long and boring, and very painful. But soon we were in New Jersey, and at our new home. It was a nice house, double storey, three bedrooms, each with its own bathroom. I went upstairs to find my bedroom. When I did, I saw that everything had already been set up. I settled down into my bed, and closed my eyes, dreaming of blue eyes and greying hair.
I woke in the morning more tired than when I had gone to sleep. Nightmares had kept me up most of the night, and I'm pretty sure I had been screaming at one stage. Not that Mum would have noticed. She was probably too busy getting drunk. She had to sober up for the plane ride, so she had two days to catch up on. Today I was supposed to go to see a doctor, to see if it was okay for me to start school. Mum would probably try to make me even if I wasn't. I know she sounded like a horrible person, but she had saved my life from my maniac father, and I owed her that. It was the only reason I was still with her. I trudged out of bed to see Mum at the kitchen table with a cigarette and a cup of coffee.
"Mum, its eight o'clock in the morning, is it really necessary to be smoking?" I asked her, pouring myself a cup of coffee. Secretly, I was glad she was smoking and not drinking at eight in the morning, which was her usual routine.
"Just hurry up and have your breakfast or we are going to be late for the doctors," she said, taking a drag of the death stick in her hand. I just rolled my eyes and made my way upstairs with my coffee. I threw on some black skinny jeans and an Evanescence tee, with my red converse. I put on some heavy black eyeliner, and straightened my extremely long, auburn hair. I burned my forehead in the process of trying to straighten my blunt fringe, and cried out in pain. Mum rushed upstairs, to see if I was okay.
"I'm fine Mum," I smiled. She was making an effort, she really was. I could see that.
"Oh good," she said with a smile, turning around and heading back downstairs.
Half an hour later I was lying in the doctor's office, with my shirt on the floor, and the doctor prodding at my abdomen. It barely hurt anymore.
"Well, the wound wasn't very deep, so you are lucky," the doctor said. He pushed on my stomach again, but this time is hurt. I breathed deeply in, jerking in pain. "Sorry," he said, but I could tell he wasn't really. I had a gift of telling when people were lying. That's how I caught my mother's affair.
"Well?" Mum asked the doctor, prompting him to continue.
"Well your daughter should be fine to return to school," he finished. I suddenly felt sick to the stomach. This had all gone too fast, but yet not fast enough. I couldn't believe I was in America, and I would be starting school tomorrow, just several days after my father had stabbed me, with the intention of killing me. My life was fucking crazy.