Here's the next chapter! Enjoy! I do not own Mockingjay any direct quotes will be in italics.
Ch. 29
"I don't understand though, how could they make the memories seem so real?" One of the people in our Squad, Homes said. The conversation had begun early this morning when Katniss, Gale, and Finnick had left with the camera crew to get some footage.
It had began with simple things, how the morning was, how everyone was feeling, and then slowly it had become focused on me. Jackson had something about me handling last night well and Boggs said he heard Katniss talking. Which then dove Jackson into a full on description of what went on last night. I sat there quietly as I waited for her words to finally come to an end.
As she talked most of the Squad came near to listen, only a girl named Leeg 1 stayed mourning in her tent from the loss of her sister yesterday. Some of them began to ask questions. Like did I remember important things, how did they exactly do this, how long had they done it to me, all of which I had no real answers to.
I turn to Boggs after Homes asked the question because he seemed to understand what happened to me more than I did. I had only known the little that my Doctor had decided to tell me, it wasn't enough to answer all of these questions.
"Well from what I understand, or what Beetee has told me anyways, with a mix of tracker jacker venom and the right mind set, it isn't hard to change memories, make new ones, rearrange them. It would be interesting if they hadn't used it in such a morbid way." He doesn't look at me much; I can still see that he doesn't care for me. He must know the Peeta he thinks he knows isn't really me.
"How could it be used in a good way?" I ask, no one in particular, just into the air, letting my thoughts out into the open.
"You of all people should be able to answer that question the best. If they somehow made the tracker jacker venom not instill fear, but something else, they could take away the bad ones. Make you forget ever being in the Hunger Games." Jackson is the one to say this. Other's nod along with her as if to show their agreement, but I'm not sure if I agree as much as they do.
"Why would I want to forget all those precious memories? Everyday I pray I could have them back, to just know that they were real. Why would I so carelessly throw them away?" This makes everyone pause, stare at me, question why they ever thought it was a good idea.
"I didn't mean to be insensitive." Says Jackson.
"It's not your fault." I answer shyly, quietly.
"How bout we help you get those memories back?" Mitchell, another member in the squad asks. "I mean we don't know much, but if it's something major you have a question about we could probably answer."
"Yeah, how about you ask if something is real or not real, and we'll answer." Says Jackson right after.
It isn't hard to think of something, even the littlest details I couldn't be sure about.
"I was reaped into the 74th Hunger Games along with Katniss Everdeen who had volunteered for her sister." I say and then add, "Real or not real?"
Boggs is the first one to start talking, "Real." It really needed no more information. I had something more to stand on, something real that I could remember.
"Katniss tried to kill me on multiple accounts. Real or not real?" I say. This fact was shaky, I couldn't really be sure and Katniss never gave me a real straight answer that I could stand on. I needed someone to be brutally honest with me.
"Not real." Answers Boggs again, "She's only ever tried to protect you except when she thought you were with the careers, but even then she didn't directly try to kill you."
I pause and think about this one for a while; I didn't really know what to say after it. She wasn't trying to protect me anymore; that was for sure. When had she stopped caring?
After of minutes of contemplating this I come up with another question to ask and another and another, they seem to drop endlessly out of my mouth.
"Most of the people from District Twelve were killed in the fire." I look up to see Katniss observing us; I wonder how long she had been standing there.
"Real. Less than nine hundred of you made it to Thirteen alive." A voice answers me, but I don't quite catch who it is. It doesn't really matter anyways as long as I get my answer.
"The fire was my fault." I say. I had been told this once, back in the Capitol a bright light in my face, but I can't remember if I was told this under the influence of tracker jacker venom or not. Or if maybe it was just one big lie to make me feel guilty.
"Not real. President Snow destroyed Twelve the way he did Thirteen, to send a message to the rebels." I remember thinking Snow was a good guy; I'm not sure why even an insane person would think so. How had he ever made me trust him? He ruined my home, killed my family. There were a lot of bad people in this world, but Snow, by far, was the worst.
I continue to ask real or not real questions and I continue to get answers. Little by little I begin to claim myself back again and though the list of questions seem endless I can see myself, way in the future, almost somewhat, happy.
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