Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.
*So, a fairly short chapter D: Sorry! I'll explain at the bottom, but I hope you still enjoy it nonetheless!
Feedback, as always, is appreciated!
Unable to breath
The silence is thick
Unable to speak
When in the room that you're in.
You hate me,
I'm sure
But my promise
Is not broken
Because for now,
These things
Are meant to stay within.
Chapter Five: Meant to Stay Within
It's quiet when we go to dinner. An uncomfortable silence blankets the table, the sounds of forks and knives on plates being the only thing heard. I shift anxiously in my seat, and Haymitch takes a long draw from his flask. He sits to my left, at the end of the table, and Peeta sits to my right, which makes the silence even more unbearable. I know that he wants to know what it is that went on not long ago; both he and Effie have been throwing me concerned looks throughout dinner. Though I'd never admit it- his insults hurt, I took them to heart, but eventually moved on. He was angry; irrational, yes, but still angry. I just tell myself that he hadn't meant it, that his words were just clouded by his outrage; but I don't know if I could believe my own comforts.
How could they possibly understand, though? Only Haymitch can understand how torturous my father truly is... Both he and I are haunted by the reminders constantly, his reasons being his turn in the Second Quarter Quell, and mine being from the numerous years I'd been forced to watch others suffer - even die at the hands of my own father and his sick gang of Peacekeepers.
My mind begins to flood with images, and my heart rate speeds up as panic rushes throughout my body. Not a minute goes by that I don't blame myself for each death, every bit of pain inflicted upon those that I knew-
I feel a nudge on my shoulder, and my head jumps up, alert. Something flashes in Haymitch's eyes, but is gone quickly before he motions to my full plate and gives me a look, silently asking me Are you okay? I nod absently.
My brows pull together as I try to calm my rapid breaths. I look around the table, seeing that Peeta and Haymitch have already finished their plates - Peeta looking a bit green - and Effie is halfway through hers. And Effie takes forever to eat.
I shake my head and blink. My mind is still hazed.
Looking down at my almost completely full plate, I grimace and push it away. Normally, I'm not one to waste food, knowing how valuable it is and not knowing when Snow is going to keep it from me, but my headache has grown stronger, constantly hitting my head with a hammer. My hand involuntarily reaches up to my forehead and I stand up, my head exploding as the chair slides loudly against the floor.
"Sweetheart?" I hear Haymitch say with concern, but I just wave him off.
"Just- Just a headache, I'll be fine," I tell him, scurrying my way to my room, locking the door behind me. This is yet another side effect of my father's tortures, though much less common. Even Haymitch doesn't know about these.
I sit cross-legged on the bed, covering my ears as I rock back and forth. How ridiculous I must look, if there were anybody to witness my break down. And that's what this is; sometimes, especially after a particularly bad nightmare, my brain just overloads. With thoughts, questions, flashbacks.. Everything.
A there's a knock on the door, but I ignore it, trying to get rid of the thoughts. The click of the door is faintly heard through my foggy mind, and the sound of loud footsteps. Peeta, my mind registers.
He touches my shoulder, and I flinch slightly. "Just a second, just trying to get rid of this headache," I grit out to him, the sound of my own voice sending pain throughout my nerves.
And almost as soon as it's started, it stops.
I let out sigh of relief, my shoulders slumping from exhaustion. I turn to Peeta. "Sorry about that.. What is it?" I ask him, and he responds with a clipped tone - which I admit, it stings - telling me that we're entering into the Capitol. My eyes widen and I jump up from the bed, grabbing his wrist and taking him out the door, racing to the wide windows that face the city. My stomach churns with disgust as I spot each unnaturally colored, shining buildings in the distance.
Suddenly, everything's dark, and my breathing picks up. No, not the dark. The dark reminds me of when I was locked up at the mansion, forced to listen to the screams of my father's enemies. It reminds me of-
"Katniss," I hear Haymitch's gravelly voice say in my ear, his hand on my shoulder. He knows, he's here, but he doesn't know the extent of what's happened, doesn't know that I was left in a cold, windowless room for days on end, forced to listen to screams and maniacle laughter that sunk through the concrete walls.
I nod quickly, guilping down my fear and forcing myself to stand straighter, though I hold my breath until we've come out.
Haymitch's hand squeezes my shoulder quickly before letting go, right as sunlight pours back in through the large windows. I let out a long breath, suddenly remembering my still-present grip on Peeta's wrist. I let go, giving an apology before going up to the window, watching as we pass unnaturally colored people.
I force a smile and wave to them, knowing that they are the only chance that we can get sponsors. I turn to look at Peeta, who's looking at me with disgust.
"What are you doing?" he spits out, looking at my falsely cheerful expression. I sigh, letting it drop momentarily before wearing it again. "Come over here, wave, blow kisses to them; anything. The more they love you, the more of a chance you stand in the arena," I tell him, and his eyes widen with realization and- caution?- before he makes his way over to the spot next to me, a more than believable smile gracing his lips as he winks at some of the peacock-women, who squeal in delight.
A sigh or relief escapes me. He's naturally somebody that they'll love, and that, in turn, will mean everything.
Yes, I know, a pretty short chapter :( Well, there's really not much that goes on between these things, so I next chapter will most likely skip any unneeded things, and go to training or something like that. But that's all that I'm telling you! Besides this Preview...
Preview to the Next Chapter:
When we arrive, we're the last ones to step foot within this cold room- which I don't understand. We're still five minutes early.
I look around at the faces of the people that I'll be fighting against, at those that I'll also be fighting for. District Two and One definitely have threat in their names, seeing how fit and wellfed they are compared to the rest of us scraggly children.
Throughout the speech of Atla, the training instructor, District Two's male tribute- Cato, I think - eyes me as if I'm a new chew toy and he's the dog. I refuse to let him get under my skin though, and shoot a glare towards him. His facial expression changes into that of amusement, and anger boils beneath my skin.
~Burritoyum