My name is Peeta Mellark. My name is Peeta Mellark. My name is Peeta Mellark.
I am in a cell. I am in a cell in the Capitol.
I am in the Capitol. The Capitol is the enemy. The President is the enemy.
I must remember.
I must remember.
Lavinia dies screaming, jerking, electricity jolting through her, hair sizzling. Darius and I are screaming too. The whole room echoes with it. I think my head will explode like the sky in the arena.
It seems so long ago.
How long ago was it?
Darius is bleeding from where they cut off his ear and the joints of two fingers on his right hand. His head lolls and the sound he makes as he cries...a sort of howl and clicking, gurgle. I'm ashamed that it turns my stomach.
"What are they planning?" the guard asks, as the other one pokes Lavinia's body as if he doesn't believe she's dead, that she might be faking them out somehow even though it's been at least five minutes since the screaming stopped.
Darius shakes his head, then another screaming howl and the faint thud of another finger joint.
"Stop it!" I shout, "He doesn't know anything!"
Two more fingers and half his foot later, and me getting hit across the face twice by the other guard for interrupting them, they drag out Lavinia's body, as the door opens I make out a noise I am both thankful and heart-sick to hear. Johanna Mason cursing up a storm. Someone landing some sort of blow on someone else and then the heavy thud that I feel is more likely her being sedated and falling than being killed, or her killing someone because if she got away there'd be running and some sort of whoop of joy most likely, and besides they're not about to kill a victor they can torture.
Darius and I are hanging across from each other, for a long moment I can't look at him, but then I do, battered and bloody, red liquid pooling on the floor and sliding down the drain in the center of the room. One eye is swelling shut, and his lip is split.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, "I'm so sorry."
He shakes his head, eyes bright.
No. No. It is my fault.