Worse than Hell
"Do I really want him dead? What I want…what I want is to have him back."
Snow leaves me, quietly shutting the door. To my surprise, I hear no lock click behind him. Confused, I stare at the door, expecting only the worst.
Instead, two men clad in white Capitol police suits and a matching hat come marching in. They smoothly slide the handcuffs off my already sore wrists and escort me out of the room.
"Make one move to escape, Lover Boy, and any chance you might have to live will be gone," one grumbles. I nod quickly. Knowing the Capitol, the penalty could be worse than death.
They lead me into a cold and empty hallway, and then into an elevator. The elevator is surprisingly luxurious, clad with velvet seats, a shiny wood floor, a sparkling chandelier, and a multitude of mirrors on the sides.
We exit the elevator, go down another hallway and through another steel, locked door until we reach our destination.
Before roughly shoving me into a jail cell, I realize my new home was with three of my fellow victors.
It was a short hallway, designed with only four cells, each about twenty feet wide. The prison cells sat side by side, facing a cold, stone wall. With thick bars across the front with little space between and cement floors, ceilings, and wall, the cells are moderately suitable for life. A small wooden bed spread with a warm-looking duvet and pillow lay in the corner. In the corner directly across the bed sat a small divider, a porcelain toilet, and a compact metal sink enhanced with a bottle of lavender soap.
Even in the Capitol, the prison cells were rather lavish.
When the footsteps of the guards were no longer heard, a voice to the left of me speaks.
"Decided to join us now, Peeta," it drawls sarcastically.
"Johanna?" I question.
"Who else would it be? Katniss?" she mocks.
I clench my teeth in anger. I take a deep breath.
To my surprise, I hear another voice, this time from my right. "Stop it, Johanna," it retorts, rather calmly at that. "Peeta's going through some hard times."
"Aren't we all, Annie? Peeta doesn't get any slack just because he lost his little crush. Come on, I know for a fact we've been through worst hell than her," Johanna replies.
God, I want to punch Johanna.
"Who else is here?" I ask, keeping my temper down.
"Enobaria," Annie responds. "She's in the cell all the way down at the left."
"How long have you guys been here for?" I ask.
"Now, now, lover boy. You just got here. No need to get your panties in a wad and start asking questions like crazy," Johanna answers.
"Johanna, please. He did just get here. He deserves to know a few answers. We all arrived yesterday," Annie notifies me.
I hear a camera buzz and whir within a few feet of me. We're never safe. They're always watching us – picking up on any miniscule details of a supposed plan, listening into low whispers from one to another. What did I expect of the Captiol?
"Will you all shut up for a moment?" another voice growls from the left. Enobaria. Why, all of all the tributes, was she picked up? She was a career – her district was the most loyal to the Capitol, so there was no reason for her to even be here, but then again, the Capitol was unfair and cruel. They played, toyed with you. They pretended to be on your side, to have good intentions, but they betrayed you, like always.
Where is she, where is Katniss? I send a silent prayer to a god I don't believe in. I can only hope she's okay, but there's not a place in the entirety of Panem where she could be safe.
Is she fighting? Is she with her family? Is she healing? Is she planning for a tactic for the rebellion? Is she thinking about me?
I can't lose her now. Captured and on the verge of death at any given moment, I just can't afford to lose her. I risked so much to save her, and if in the end, we both die, then everything was pointless.
I wait in constant fear for a guard, or worse, Snow, to barge in and take me away.
I want to scream, yell, screech out of frustration. I don't know of any plan for another rebellion. I don't know anything. They're convinced otherwise. They won't believe me. I've made myself known to them as the boy with the golden tongue, who can lie to a crowd of thousands. They'll go to any means to get the slightest detail that'll suggest that I know of it, and then they'll torture me. I listened to Snow to the best of my abilities, I played out my role as the star-crossed lover destined to die. I tried.
Once again, I was left out of the plan, and yet again, it was for protection. Whoever devised the plan, they must have known not to tell me because I was vulnerable and played a role in manipulating the Capitol citizens.
I'm tired of being left out, I'm simply sick of it. I want to fight. I'll take the punishment, whatever it is.
I quietly curse.
Katniss, I need her. The thought of her not being in the Capitol is barely consoling; she could even be a place worse than this nightmare.
But she's not here though, and I just need to show that I can survive.
I'm angry. I'm angry at the other tributes for not telling me of the plan, even if it was for the best. I'm angry with Snow, who simply won't admit defeat. I'm angry with Haymitch, who is probably drowning his sorrows in liquor rather than facing the real world. I'm even angry with Katniss, who I know would rather die than have me gone.
I'm living in a world worse than hell, and nothing seems okay anymore.