The Monster Contained
My eyes open as I pull myself out of the soft, dark unconsciousness into the artificial bright white light of consciousness. I stare up at the ceiling, the lights there are blinding me. They must have just been turned on, and their light helped rouse me from my other world. But I am so exhausted in every way that I do not even notice anything around me, except for the lights. I could be dead for all I know. Maybe I am. That would probably be better for everyone. But I just have a feeling that I am still alive, but just barely.
So I squint and try to slip back into my shadowy, soft, gray dreamland of unconsciousness. But this is wrong, it is wrong. "I CAN'T GO ON LIKE THIS ANYMORE!" I scream, but there is no one there to hear. I am, for once, alone. I drift away into semi consciousness, until I am unaware of my surroundings.
But I am hurting, deep inside, in every way possible. I would be fine with going completely unconscious now. I would be relieved, happy, even, to die, to just rid myself of what I'm suffering so greatly. I would embrace my death, and float forever in the gray dreamland, for what I'm suffering, torture, solitude, knowing that if I just could I would be able to reach those I love the most in life, is worse than dying. I know that no one really needs me in life. I've always just been sort of... there. I would be happy to die now and end this all. If it weren't for Katniss.
Katniss. I've vowed to keep her alive, even at the cost of my own life, and now I am here. Most likely taking the place that she was meant to be in. But they are using me against her. Even if she may not need me, I need her. And she saved us. I know that. I cannot let my debts go unpaid. Then I drift off.
I lay splayed out on my stomach, and I feel something sticky underneath my body as I lie on the ground. The substance is warm, and smells sickly. I try to lift my head to see what it is, but when I try to, I instantly feel dizzy. Then I realize what the sticky substance is.
I'm laying in a puddle of my own blood, and my entire body is covered in it. I am no stranger to blood anymore, but this much is revolting. I am sure that it's a miracle I am still alive. It pumps out of a deep gash in my arm, and at the bottom of my leg, where my false leg used to be, there is a ragged hole in the skin that covered my nub. My bloody bone sticks out of it. I laugh in hysteria at what has happened to me. When I finally realize the grave danger of my situation, when I realize that I am bleeding, I am terrified. I am dying; I am dying; I am dying. I moan in the terrible pain and at the puddle of my blood. They beat me too hard this time, their knives cut too deep, their whips flew too hard. If I die, so will Katniss. They will use my death against her and it will break her will to go on. It can't happen.
I claw at my wounds, trying to stop the blood draining away, draining away my life. I must get to the wall of my cell. I must get to the door. I must because if I die, nothing will ever be right. My debts to the world will be forever unpaid. I will never see Katniss again, or our children. I reach for the door and lift up my body, slick with blood, using the doorknob. My hand slips and my face crashes into the floor, breaking my nose. Blood spurts from the broken veins. I'm drowning in my own blood, I'm covered in it. Blood is everywhere. I feel like there's too much blood to be in a human being. I slam the door with my fist one last time, and it makes a satisfying clanging sound that's sure to be heard. I pass out against the wall.
How are the torturers not here yet? Even if they didn't here me, they should have come to injure me further. Or maybe they have come and I haven't even noticed. When you have an amount of blood this big, it doesn't make much difference to add a little more.
I have been in this cell a very long time. So long that I barely even remember a time when I was not in this dank, gray, and extremely dirty cell. I know that I have been in here for far too long, that I'm longing to escape and finally be free. To walk with Katniss in the forest of our home, District 12. To watch a beautiful sunset, the golds and the yellows and the purples and the blue of the sky above, and the softest of orange. In here there are no forests, colored an earthy green. There are no sunsets, no sky. All there is is the endless gray of the hallways and the cells and the doors and the bars.
"He's not dead!" a voice exclaims. I feel the heat of lights on me. "Good," a different voice remarks. "He has to go speak with President Snow in a few hours. The President himself requested it, and he would be quite put out if his guest died before they could have their discussion." President Snow. The name makes my blood turn to ice. What little blood I have left, anyway. My eyes open. "Ah, and look, he's awake now." The cruel, unfeeling voice belongs to a man, with a shaved head and severe looking eyebrows.
He looks down on me with ultimate distaste, like he was looking at some particularly unsavory insect that he had just found inside a cupboard. The facial expression of disgust couple with a desire to kill me was most definitely there.
"He wants you to be clean," said the man on the other side of him. "So you don't dirty anything inside his quarters." He looks down upon me with a smug face. "So let's get to work."
They take me to a room with a drain in the floor. They spray off with cold water from a hose, not so much as cleaning me but mostly blasting the caked blood and grime off of my body and chilling me to the bone. Another set of men come in, and the others leave. They put bandages over the wounds that are still dripping blood, so the President's carpet won't be soiled. The roughly rub me with a piece of scratchy fabric, attempting to partially dry me. Finally, they peel the water-blasted and bloodstained clothes from my body, and give me an ill-fitting gray shirt and pants. Then they leave me alone in the room with the drain.
One hour of waiting in quiet suffering later, I'm looking straight into the eyes of my greatest enemy. I stand on my one working leg, my nub useless without my prosthetic. I lean on the chair set before him to keep my balance.
His tongue flicks over his bloated lips. "Sit," he commands, gesturing to the stuffed armchair in front of his giant and intimidating looking desk. It has been a long time since I ever felt anything as soft as an armchair, and I rub my callused hands on the soft velvet. But I stay standing, my own small act of rebellion against this terrible man.
"I'll stand," I say, my voice strong. His eyes flicker for a moment, there seems to be a of something like uncertainty in the depths of their watery blue. But it flashes away as quickly as it came. He leans forward in his chair.
"Peeta Mellark, I'll get right to the point. After your little girlfriend Katniss Everdeen pulled that little prank with the forcefield, the entire country has gone into chaos. District 13 decided that they would just swoop in after the arena's walls were gone, and rescue Katniss to lead the rebellion that's now raging. I hope you both know what trouble you've caused for me. My country is against me. I'm getting headaches every day now."
He stops, coughing overcoming him. But he stops soon enough, and looks straight up in to my eyes. He clears his throat and begins again.
"But why didn't they save you? They chose Katniss over you. They left you for us to come get you. I guess she's just more important."
He wears a triumphant smile on his face. Well, it's as expressive as his face will ever get.
"But by leaving us with you, they basically handed over the way to end this war gift-wrapped. If we hurt you, she'll crack. She'll demand that the war be ended in exchange for you."
"NO!" I scream. "SHE WON'T KNOW! I'LL STAY STRONG." I swiftly turn over the chair and place my hands on his desk, glaring into his eyes.
"Tut, tut." says Snow. "You really didn't think that was all we would do? You think that what we're doing to you now is the worst of it? Young man, we've barely begun. When we're done with you, you will have forgotten everything in your life. You will hate Katniss with every bone in your body. You'll hate her so much, in fact, that you'll want to kill her if you see her." He finishes with an air of finality.
My hands begin to shake."No, no, no, it can't happen, it can't be." My love for Katniss is the only thing I've ever been truly certain of. They can't make it go away now. I lose control.
"NOOOO! I WILL ALWAYS LOVE HER YOU CAN'T STOP ME!"
I pound on the desk, and drop to my knees, pounding the ground with my fists. I'm scared out of my mind, because I know that they can do it. I don't know how, but I think they can. "I'll never forget Katniss! You can't make me!" President Snow stands up.
"Now, now," he says in a voice that could be kind, but has a tone of iciness behind it. "There's nothing you can do. Just accept it. In fact, let's see if it works now."
I sink into the chair. I've officially given up. My head slumps forward and onto the desk. I pound my fist on it, my forehead feeling the vibration it sends through the wood. I clench my teeth in anger.
2 women walk in to the room, one of them holding a metal tray that has a sterile wipe and a large syringe. The syringe is filled with neon orange liquid. The other holds a metal case.
"Now, Mr. Mellark, I'm going to ask you to sit up," President Snow says evenly. But when I look up, I see that he's grinning with excitement, he can't wait to see how his new weapon works. The metal case opens, and inside are metal bindings. The women began to fasten my arms to the chair and my ankles to the chair legs. As they bind my head, I ask, with a tone of bitter hopelessness to my voice, "Why the bindings? It's not like I'm going to try to escape anyway." The woman nods to President Snow.
"Oh, we know that YOU wouldn't try to escape. Not now. But you see, when this substance enters your body, you will convulse. You'll experience terrible hallucinations. Because this-" He pauses as the woman lifts the needle to my neck. "Is tracker jacker venom. Say goodbye to all happy thoughts of your loved ones." She pushes the plunger.
I lean forward, trying to claw at this terrible man, but I can't fight my restraints.
"NO!" I screech, my body already shuddering as the venom takes effect. "YOU WILL NEVER TAKE ME AWAY FROM HER!" My cry turns into a guttural, animal sound as my body shakes with seizures as I enter the land of the hijacked and President Snow's cackles fade.