The sleep I fell into was slow and obviously drug-induced. Weird shapes formed and molded themselves before my eyes as if they were made out of syrup. I could make out some of the figures; Peeta reaching his arms up at something I couldn't see above him, Prim's ugly cat buttercup pouncing on a pear-shaped flower, which molded itself around the cat and into a net. The net then twisted as if caught on something then shattered. Finnick Odair with his head stretched and then something burst from his neck. A strange shape formed itself out of Finnick and came galloping towards me. Suddenly, the images shattered as if the goopy shape had run into a wall of glass. The wall shattered and a wave of broken arrows crashed around me like a waterfall.
The whole dream was quiet until then, but at that moment a clear voice rang through my head: It's already too late. The voice belonged to President Snow, but had once been someone else's words, though I couldn't places who's.
A cold shill swept through me and I knew what the doctor had shot into me wasn't morphine or any other type of medicine I have had before. These drug-induced dreams were something I have never had before.
Ever since the wall had broken and I had heard the voice, the strange shapes had stopped, and now I was standing in complete blackness, except for a thin layer of blue mist that was lazily swirling around my feet. It tickled my ankles as it crept higher. Unlike most of the things in my dream, I was not threatened by it, even when it reached my knees. By the time it was inching up my neck, a strange buzzing sensation filled my ears and begun to make my head heavy. And then the blue mist swallowed up my head and blackness fell over me like a blanket.
When I resurfaced, the vibrating had stopped and I was aware of something soft pressing down upon me as I lied on my back. I peeled my eyes open and found myself staring at a roughly-tiled ceiling. My neck protested as I turned it to look to my left.
Sitting at a desk, typing on a computer, a kind-looking black man sat. He was gazing intently at his screen, not aware at all that I had woken up.
"Is it done?"My voice sounded groggy, and my throat felt like a desert.
The man turned his head towards me and smiled. "Yes. There weren't any problems. You should be good to go once we get some food into you."
Great. Food. I was absolutely starving, but I had no idea how many meals I had missed. "What time is it?"
The doctor glanced at his watch. "It's two-thirty." He checked my vital signs and then after scribbling something on a clipboard, he left the room.
Even though the quiet of the hospital room was peaceful and refreshing, I had to admit I was lonely. It was obvious the doctors hadn't allowed Peeta to be there when I woke up, but I was hoping the nice doctor would bring him along with my late lunch.
I sighed and decided to take advantage of being alone and examine the place the doctors cut me open. I bunched up the first layer of blanket to my chest so when I pushed the second layer down to see my stomach, I would still be somewhat covered up. Tucking the blankets firmly around me, I surveyed the three-square-inch white bandage that was taped to the underside of my belly. When I poked it, it hurt, but when I didn't even think about it, it was like it didn't exist. It was like a bad bruise.
If I wasn't naked, I probably would have gotten up and left a while back, but the lack of clothing stopped me. I sighed again and covered myself back up.
Twenty minutes later, a nurse I've never seen before came in, wheeling a cart with my food on it. But to my dismay, Peeta was nowhere in sight.
"How are you feeling?" asked the nurse once I was done eating.
"I'm fine. Can I leave now?" I put my plate down and pushed the metal table away. Making sure the blanket was tucked securely around my chest, I sat up.