"I felt as sore as a rock must feel when the waterfall has pounded on it all day long"
~Memoirs of a Geisha
At seven thirty in the morning, I'm surprised I'm able to stay awake, let alone get to the training center on time. Not only is it completely insulting to be placed in a class with kids no older than fifteen, it's embarrassing to see that they are so much more capable than me. It's almost laughable to believe I ever was in a condition fit enough to survive for two weeks in an icy arena, fighting against competition, mutts, and the Gamemakers to stay alive. Stretching is one thing, but the strength exercises make me want to quit. Only knowing this might be the only way I can get to Snow keeps me going. I'm better off than Katniss, at least. No matter how much I yell at her and try to get her to keep going, she still drops out of the run. I somehow make it, though I'm dead last by a long shot. I should be embarrassed, but I'm too focused on trying to catch my breath.
The instructor, an annoyingly firm woman stares at me with dark eyes and pursed lips. "Problem?" I growl, hands on my knees.
"You might be better off giving yourself more time to heal, before returning to training, soldier" she says.
I squint at her, standing with a small grimace. "I'm not a soldier." I'll be damned if I give up. This is the only thing that matters anymore.
She doesn't seem fazed by my retort. "You are now."
I stalk away, surprised to find that Katniss doesn't return later. Maybe she gave up. Or maybe they decided to just let her go to the Capitol anyway, being the Mockingjay. I barely make it back up to my bed without passing out. The only thing that motivated me to walk back up here and not sit on the floor somewhere was the promise of morphling, but I'm surprised to see it removed. Katniss says it's something to do with some treatment to help her ribs, but it doesn't dull the anxiety of not having morphling to numb the pain.
"I'm sorry. I didn't-" Katniss starts but I wave away her apology.
"It had to happen anyway" I respond. It's true, and I knew it was coming, but that doesn't stop my heart from beating so fast it feels like it's going to burst out of my chest, or the utter, painful exhaustion in my limbs. I try to keep that mindset as the night goes on, but it gets harder and harder.
A cold sweat coats my skin and my stomach clenches so violently I'm sure I'm going to vomit over my bed. Katniss tries to apologize some more, but I can't find it in myself to be so forgiving. Sleep is an impossibility, so I'm left to wallow in the escalated agony, to which Katniss is the cause. I grit my teeth. Swearing at her doesn't make me feel any better, but each sound and movement she makes sends waves of pain up through my spine, and into my brain where it feels like my eyes are going to pop out of my head with the pressure. I seriously start to believe it would be better if I had just died. And yet, when the clock says it's time to get up, I plant my feet on the floor and throw Katniss's blankets off of her.
"I don't think I can do it" Katniss moans as I pull her to her feet.
"You can do it. We both can" I add for myself. "We're Victors, remember? We're the ones who can survive anything they throw at us" I snarl, seeing Snow behind my eyelids. She doesn't argue any more. I focus on not puking on the pristine floor while she gets dressed. Despite everything, she's a survivor. She made it through the Games – twice. And she survived Snow for at least one year, and somehow kept her family throughout.
I'm full of determination, but it's only when we get outside do I stop in my tracks. I can smell the rain before I see it. Outside, it's pouring in sheets, soaking the ground and the others in our group as they trudge into it. But I can't move, not even take a single step. The sound, the smell, even the sight of the rain makes my throat constrict. From somewhere deep in my mind, I can hear Lucius's chuckle. Just a scared little girl, aren't you?
"It's just water. It won't kill us" Katniss says beside me. I look over at her. Oh, you have no idea, Mockingjay. Still, she's right. I'm never going to get the chance to kill Snow if I can't brave the rain. Clenching my jaw tightly to stop the tremors, I stomp out into the rain, choking on a gasp when the water touches my skin.
I can't get inside soon enough. Not only am I trembling and aching from withdrawal, my heart races with the anxiety of being under the water. Any sound makes me flinch, bracing for the shocks and strikes. It's ridiculous, and embarrassing, so I'm glad Katniss drops out of the run so she doesn't see how weak I actually am.
The thought of stew for lunch is appealing at first but I don't even make it halfway through the bowl before I'm vomiting it back out. I feel helpless. My own body is betraying me. I can't even keep my hands still enough to assemble even the most basic parts of the gun given to me. Katniss ends up doing most of it for me. I don't even have a chance when we go to the shooting range. Maybe with steady hands I could do something – I don't have bad aim. But not like this.
At the end of the day, I'm so tired that I feel like I'm on the verge of tears. There's a group of doctors at the end of the hall, talking loudly about something I don't understand. One of them gives me a weird look as Katniss and I pass, to which I glare back. I suppose we must be a sight. The white walls, white floor, hell, even the white bedding makes my stomach clench.
"This has to stop" I declare, coming to a standstill, peering down at my bed. "Us living in the hospital. Everyone views us as patients." Again today I caught York, our strict trainer, giving me an almost sad look, as if she has emotions.
It turns out to be much more difficult than I thought. The doctors, mostly Miles, think I'm unfit to leave to hospital, let alone live by myself. I argue, of course, but they don't care. Naturally, miss Mockingjay can leave whenever she likes, but I'm stuck. I don't know what makes me so much more dangerous than her, but they're adamant.
Even Haymitch shows up to the argument. He doesn't say much – I'm sure he agrees with the thought that I'm unstable and potentially dangerous to myself along with anyone who has the misfortune of being near me. It's infuriating. I'm left alone enough to steal most of Katniss's morphling – if I was going to do something, I would have done it by now. I'm sick of being treated like a child, or a bomb, or a combination of both. I've lived through more than all of them combined and I'll be damned if they'll tell me what I can or can't do.
But, as per usual, it's Katniss who saves the day. "She won't be alone" she pipes up, talking to the doctor-in-charge. "I'm going to room with her."
I stare at her, hiding my surprise. I didn't think she trusted me. We've formed an alliance of sorts, sure, but that's a big move for her. Unsurprinsgly, Haymitch and the doctors don't like the idea. It's hard not to be insulted. They don't trust me alone with her – despite me having the bed next to her with only a curtain between us, and our now weeks of unsupervised companionship. But, in the end, they relent, and suddenly I'm no longer a patient in the hospital.
It's strange, not being stuck in a white bed with only a curtain for privacy. Katniss goes to take a shower, leaving me to sit on my new bed in my new room. I stare at the bathroom door. I should shower, but even hearing it on makes my heart race. The last few days of work leaves me needing some sort of hygiene, so I settle with wiping myself down with a towel. I'll deal with a shower at some other time. Maybe when Snow's dead.
Only when remotely clean do I take in the new surroundings. I still don't understand why Katniss would offer to be my roommate, but since I'm out of the hospital, I'm not complaining. I check the dressers, some of the only storage in this place. I don't actually expect to find anything, but opening the one next to Katniss's bed I'm surprised to see a collection of items. I close it quickly, glancing at Katniss over my shoulder, who is watching me. "Sorry" I mutter.
"It's okay. You can look at my stuff if you want" she responds.
I examine at Katniss for a moment; she seems serious. Shrugging, I open the drawer again, examining the contents. They're the only remotely personal things I've seen in this warren. I pick up the small, golden locket, thinking about how similar it looks to my own. Inside are tiny pictures, Katniss's mother, sister, and "cousin." Next to the locket is a parachute from the arena, which still contains the spile. I roll it between my fingers, smiling cynically.
"Makes me thirsty just looking at it" I say, placing it back in the parachute. Next, I notice a small, silver object. I pick it up, thinking it's a small rock, or marble, but after a moment of examining it, I recognize the pearl, the one Peeta gave her. I didn't think she'd still have it after…. "Is this-?" I ask, not finishing my own sentence.
"Yeah" she confirms. "Made it through somehow." She doesn't expand, and I can tell she doesn't want to, so I don't push.
"Haymitch says he's getting better" I say, setting the pearl down. More precisely he said that he's less homicidal, but I guess that's a type of better.
"Maybe. But he's changed."
That almost makes me smile. "So have you" I point out. "So have I. So have Finnick and Haymitch and Beetee. Don't get me started on Annie Cresta. The arena messed us all up pretty good, don't you think? Or do you still feel like the girl who volunteered for your sister?"
"No" she says.
I nod. Of course she doesn't. "That's the one thing I think my head doctor might be right about. There's no going back. So we might as well get on with things" I close the drawer loudly. Our beds are close together, so I don't have to go far to climb onto my bed and lead back against the pillows. The lights go out almost immediately afterwards. "You're not afraid I'll kill you tonight?" I ask Katniss, rolling my eyes at the insinuation.
"Like I couldn't take you" she says, making me laugh. If It came down to it, I don't know which one of us would win, not because we're strong, but because we're so damn weak I don't know how we get out of bed. It feels almost normal, laughing with Katniss. It's a good feeling, a comforting one.
I still have to go to regular meetings with Miles, which is frustrating, but I do it. I suffer through hours of him saying the same things over and over. You're safe, Johanna. You can't go back. Look to the future. Say what you need to say. It makes me want to puke.
Finnick thinks I'm just being stubborn. "Maybe you should just try talking to the man. It might help."
I look up at him, surprised by the seriousness in his expression. "I thought you were on my side."
"I am" he insists. "I just…" he shakes his head, sighing.
"You just what?"
"I just want you to get better, Jo."
I purse my lips. "Yeah, I want that too" I say, slightly confused with his point.
He nods slowly, not looking me in the eye. "Then maybe you should give the doctor a chance."
I sigh, looking up at the ceiling for a second then back down at Finnick. "I don't have anything to say to him, Finnick. What am I supposed to do? Tell him my whole fucking life story? What good is that going to do? He has no idea who I am. I'm not going to just… get over it. Not like some people."
He doesn't miss my accusation. I bite into my cheek, hard enough to taste blood. The skin all around the inside of my lips and cheeks have been bitten raw from the hours of ruminating over everything.
"What do you mean?" Finnick asks, more life in his voice.
I roll my eyes. "I'm just saying that I'm not able to just get married and move on with my life. I sure didn't get a free fucking pass."
It's a low blow, and I can see the anger rising in his face. "You mean the Capitol? I worked for that, Johanna. I earned my spot."
"And I didn't?" I demand, voice rising almost to a yell. I can feel my face flush with heat.
"That's not the point" Finnick responds, his voice raising along with mine. "You need help, Johanna and everyone is trying to give it to you. It is not your job to go to the Capitol. You're not going to kill Snow."
"I have every right to be there!" I shout. "After what he did to me-"
"What he did to all of us" Finnick cuts me off.
"No!" I shriek. "No. Not what he did to all of us. What he did to me. You weren't tortured. You didn't have every single person taken away from you. Katniss wasn't turned into a prostitute. No one else got thrown into a fucking table. No one else had their house burned down. No one else-"
"It's not a damn competition!" Finnick yells, making me fall silent. "I'm sorry you got caught, I really am. And I'm sorry your family is dead. But that does not make you right."
I glare at him, hands balled into fists. "So" I say, crossing my arms "you agree with the doctors, then? I'm unstable?"
"You are unstable, Johanna. It's not your fault, but you've been unstable for a long time. Longer than you've been here. If you go to the Capitol, you'll get yourself or someone else killed."
"That's bullshit" I say. It's like a punch to the gut. Finnick, my best friend, thinks I'm unstable. "Like you're any better? I've seen you look even worse than me. Don't you remember sobbing into my shoulder every night? You were drunk more than you were sober! What about the jabberjays, Finnick? You cried like a baby in front of the whole country."
His jaw flexes and he looks away from me, his eyes alight. We've both been holding back so much the last few weeks, and it's all coming out. "You really are a bitch; you know that? A selfish bitch."
I clench my jaw, facing Finnick directly. "Glad you noticed" I spit. "Go spend some more time with your bride, why don't you? They're not going to wait for their fucking peacock." I stalk out of the room, furious tears burning in my eyes. I throw myself into the afternoon training session, focusing on the burning exhaustion instead of the anger and hurt.
If Finnick thinks that about me, then I'm further gone than I thought.