Another chapter already! Wow, I am surprising myself! By the way, in Jo's dream, that isn't what "Aunt Tia" really looks like, just how Jo imagines her.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise? I don't own it.
My dreams are plagued by monsters and demons allsorts. Aunt Tia comes around to my house in Victor's Village to visit. Her iridescent purple hair is teased and her eyes are bright green like grass. The pupils in her eyes aren't circles; they're slits like a cat's.
"I brought friends!" Aunt Tia screeches gestures to the thin air behind her. "This one's Abbey Cardigan, then behind her is Billy Rye, and next to him is Jenny Smith …" She introduces every last one of her friends, and yet I can't see any of them. I reach for a pair of glasses on the side table and put them on. Instantly the room changes – there are stains of blood on the walls and there is no ceiling, it has burnt away. I can also see Aunt Tia's friends now – they mutter darkly amongst themselves, making sinister plans. One has a long, long cat's tail, another sports bull's horns and a young lady's pretty face is spoiled by insect eyes. I gasp involuntarily and leap back; the glasses slip off the ridge of my nose and fall to the ground with a terrible crash. The room turns back to normal and I can no longer see Aunt Tia's friends, although I know now that they are there.
"What's the matter?" snaps Aunt Tia, annoyed at being interrupted in her introductions.
"N – Nothing," I stammer, using my right foot to carefully and discreetly move the shards of glass and metal rim of the glasses under the side table.
"Hold my cat, then," says the old lady irritably, picking up something, presumably her cat, from the ground. The only problem is that, like her friends, Aunt Tia's cat is invisible. She hands it over to me and I take the vacant air in my hands, drawing it to my chest and pretending to stroke it.
"Stupid child!" Aunt Tia screeches, "You dropped her!" She starts sobbing, and in between sobs, manages to say, "Tabby cost so much money … to be wasted away like that … stupid child!" She looks at me directly in the eyes and her gaze pierces me. Aunt Tia storms over to me and grabs my right ear, yanking me forward by it. In her haste she knocks over the side table and the broken glasses are revealed. Aunt Tia doesn't see them, but as she pulls me by my ear out of the hall, I see the pieces of glass being picked up and turned around. Those are her friends doing that, I think. They're examining it!
Aunt Tia's grip on my ear tightens. She jerks to a halt and opens a cupboard. Still gripping my ear with surprising force, she crouches down and pulls all the sheets and towels out of the cupboard. Then she shoves me into the bottom shelf, now vacant of linen, slams the door and bolts it from the outside. I hear her shrill laugh and a few embarrassed explanations to her friends, then all the sound dies away.
The darkness presses down on me. Time passes differently than it usually does. Somehow I fall into a kind of doze, and when I wake, I have no idea how long I've been locked in the cupboard. My legs are dead. In fact, my whole body is dead. After a while, my breathing becomes laboured. The oxygen is running out – every breath I take makes my head spin.
"Let me out," I croak, but even I barely hear it. Then suddenly I hear the creak of the bolt being drawn, the handle of the door being turned. I tumble out of the linen cupboard onto the carpet and into blessed cool air. I take in a few deep breaths before looking up at my saviour.
"Hello, Johanna," says President Snow.
I wake up screaming. Then I realise I'm not in my usual cell, and I keep screaming. My head still feels funny after the dream, so it takes a few moments for my eyes to focus properly. When finally they do, my breath catches. I'm in that room.
Not in the water yet, but undoubtedly I will be before long. I try to struggle up and only then do I realise that I'm chained to the floor.
"Oh, she's awake," says a bored voice to my left. I turn my head to see the control panel with the man arming it, and a woman holding a clipboard whose voice I heard. She looks familiar …
"Ruminee!" I gasp, realising. Poor girl. This is the one I amused myself teasing about Jeremy Hobbs. Except she looks slightly different – oh, she's dyed her hair, it's dark blonde now instead of light blonde.
The woman looks up from her notes and gives me a piercing glare which reminds me of my dream. I shiver.
"Ruminee?" The woman asks in a bored voice. "No indeed. Ruminee is my sister – I am Cassandra. No doubt you are the one who thoughtlessly brought up the subject of her late fiancé, Jeremy Hobbs?" I just stare at her dumbly and after a few moments she returns to her notes with a disapproving sniff.
"So, miss?" asks the man at the control panel. He is a different person from last time. A bit chubby, boyish blue eyes and straw-coloured hair that sticks up everywhere. He looks at Cassandra eagerly. "Permission, miss?"
"A second, if you please, Zachary," says Cassandra distractedly. "Well … if we attempted Method C16 … it seems the subject in question is vulnerable to the methods in Section C …" I get annoyed. 'The subject' – I'm guessing that's me.
"Oi!" I shout from across the room, "I haven't stopped existing here!"
Cassandra looks up at me with cold eyes. "That," she says delicately, "Is what we are trying to initiate." Her fancy-talk and superior manner mean that it takes me a little while to figure out what she means – Oh. She wants to stop my existence.
Cassandra and the fidgety, eager assistant, Zachary, talk quietly for a few minutes longer while I attempt to struggle out of my chains. It's useless though. The only thing I can really move properly is my head, and what's the use in that? Finally Cassandra and Zachary stop talking and simply look at me, considering.
"Well?" I snap impatiently. The two Capitol citizens seem to realize themselves and go back to talking quietly. Except this time I don't struggle, but strain to listen, and I pick up a few scraps of conversation.
"She seems rather determined," whispers Zachary worriedly. "I'm not sure there will be a way to … how did you put it? - crack her."
"Oh, don't you worry," assured Cassandra with a confident smile. "I've been doing some … research … and I've discovered some very interesting things …" she finishes elusively.
"What sort of things?" whispers Zachary, edging closer to the woman. I try to edge closer too, but just when Cassandra opens her mouth to speak, my chains clink and she shakes her head.
"Later," she intones, "Over coffee, perhaps?"
"Oh!" Zachary cries, evidently delighted. "Coffee – you and me and –"
"And a rather nasty lot of business that needs to be attended to," Cassandra finishes for him, shooting me a venomous look.
"Oh! Of course mi – Cassandra," says Zachary hurriedly. Cassandra leaves, smiling smugly. Zachary walks over to me, his steps slow, purposeful. He leans down to whisper in my ear. "Don't spoil my chances, okay?" I try to bite him but he jerks his head up in time. "Lucky!" I spit, infuriated.
Zachary walks back to the control panel. Oh God, I think. Not this again, please not this again! Zachary pulls out a small black radio, and after fiddling with a few buttons to remove the static. He opens his mouth to speak.
"Please!" I cry out despite myself, "Please, don't!" I start sobbing, "Oh, don't do it again, I – I –"
Zachary walks back over to where I lie, chained to the floor and utterly hopeless. "Any secrets?" he asks, a horrible smile creeping up onto his face.
"Yes – yes!" I sob, as a huge pit of despair forms inside of me.
"Continue?"
"Well – for starters – yes, I knew about the plan which was carried out in the arena. I was a part of it, but –" I falter suddenly, "That's all I can tell you," I finish, and then hurry on in response to the look on Zachary's face; "I mean – I didn't know anything else. I knew the majority of the plan for the arena – most of the tributes did, except for the Careers, and Katniss and Peeta," I stop, and swallow, "But they didn't tell us anything else. I swear!" It is the truth.
"Well … won't President Snow be so happy to discover we've finally cracked you!" squeals Zachary in delight. Then suddenly he has a thought, "So will Cassandra, but – oh –" his face falls, "we might not still have coffee …" Zachary pulls the small black radio out of his pocket again and fiddles around with dials and switches. Eventually he gets a signal.
"Hello?" says the fidgety Capitol assistant eagerly, "Yes – Hestone one-nine-nine here … an urge – very important message for the President."
I hear the reply, "The president? You want me to put yeh right over to the President? Buddy, are you givin' me cheek?"
"Cheek?" asks Zachary anxiously, "Oh no sir, very important, very serious …"
"Who did yeh say you were?" asks the radio.
"Hestone – Hestone one-nine-nine – we've had a breakthrough with the subject Mason." He glares down at me. I spit in his face. "Argh!" Zachary shrieks, and stumbles away.
"You sure this ain't a prank?" asks the person on the radio.
"No – no, sir! Mason has revealed a secret – The Secret!" I feel my cheeks flush in anger and guilt.
"The secret, eh? Right, I'll put you on to the President's secretary-" he mutters something unintelligible, "-and they'll decide if it's anything of importance." The line goes dead for a few minutes and Zachary jumps from one foot to the other nervously while I become hot and impatient and start struggling with the chains again.
Finally, a high-pitched woman's voice comes out of the radio, "Hello? Matter of importance, I've heard. Something to do with Mason?"
"Oh, yes, miss!" cries Zachary gleefully. He then relays everything I said, word for word, to the secretary. Once he is finished, there is a very long silence.
"Well," says the secretary finally, "That is quite intriguing. I believe the President would like for you to have lunch with him today, Hestone-" Zachary squeals involuntarily in delight, "-oh, and bring the prisoner with you."
Zachary looks at me with a dangerous glint in his eye as he switches off the radio and my whole being fills with dread.
"Hello, Johanna," says President Snow. Water, Torture, Slaughter, Chapter 14.
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