Chapter Four

"What the hell are you doing?" I screamed in the face of the nearest doctor type person. Doctors were meant to care for people; these guys just went around knocking people out.

"We're restraining him so we can look after him. He needs immediate care…"

"So you knock him out without warning!"

"He was a danger…"

"He was calm! You didn't give him a chance! Did you even try and tell him what you were trying to do before you started prodding him with needles!" They all guiltily looked away then, finding anywhere to look but at me. "No because you're all idiots!" I yelled hoping this would make them feel as dumb as they were.

"Look Clove we just want what's best…"

"Yeah cause that's all you ever want isn't it? What's best for Panem? Let's get kids to fight to the death. Only it's clearly not to the death because here I am still not any the wiser about what the hell is going on around here!" I was breathing heavily by this point, letting my anger get the better of me for the first time in what felt like years.

That's when I saw it. The shadow on the wall, creeping towards me thinking I hadn't noticed them. Thinking my eyes were too fixed on the idiots in front of me to see them. They fricking wished.

I swiveled on the spot and grabbed the syringe from his had jamming it firmly into his arm before draining the contents. "Do NOT sneak up on me with syringes full of whatever this crap is!" I could hear my voice breaking as I threw the empty needle onto the ground watching their now genuinely terrified faces as I stormed off to my bed. I realized this would have been a lot more dramatic if my bed had been more than a meter away but there was no changing that now. I rolled over, fists still clenched incase they were plain stupid enough to try and knock me out again. They hurried around to the now unconscious man on the floor.

Note to self: do not trust people. It only gets you unconscious, or killed.

The next morning felt weird. Not as in an I-should-be-dead kind of weird but as in something-is-missing kind of weird. I put it down to lack of food. I don't know when I last ate a proper meal but it was definitely too long ago for my liking. I got out of bed and began wandering towards the door. Two armed guards instantly met me.

"Why hello gentlemen," I smiled sweetly hoping the venom wasn't too obvious in my voice.

"You can't leave. Return to your sleeping quarters at once Miss Kentwell," the bigger of the two spoke with the deepest voices I've ever heard. Also he knew my last name.

"But I need to eat. I'm sure you two of all people would understand that," I was getting fed up now. Standing up alone had made me hungrier than I originally thought I was.

"Go back to your sleeping quarters. We will send someone through with food," he grumbles. I turn around without agreeing or disagreeing with them; arguing or causing a scene takes up too much energy. Instead I evaluate the room.

Definitely a hospital of sorts. White walls that mean any attempt I make at escaping can probably be tracked easily. Well, the two security guards and the… eight cameras I was aware of and however many others I wasn't would also help. They had removed anything that could even vaguely resemble a knife from the room. Most of the beds seemed to be bolted to the floor so even when Cato returned his strength wouldn't be of great assistance.

I pondered over the last thought I had. Why did I assume Cato was coming back? He'd won, he must've. I mean sure 11 was more of a problem than we'd initially thought but with him out of the way that just left 5 and the pair from 12. No problem really. He was probably being prepped for the victory tour as I sat here plotting how to escape from the people who'd technically saved me from death. Suddenly, I can't explain why, but I found myself wondering if I'd actually been happier if I had died in the games.