A noise broke the silence and I slowly began to open my eyes. They gradually readjusted to their environment and I realized that I had fallen asleep on the couch overlooking Peetas room. Gale must have left me in the middle of the night and returned to his quarters.
Another muffled noise filled my eardrums.
I stood up and rubbed the tiredness out of my eyes. I looked to my left, and then to my right, but was met by nothing but emptiness.
Wait. Where was everyone?
Once again, a noise broke the eerie stillness that surrounded me. This time however, it sounded like a muffled scream. A scream of terror and despair. What made it worse was that it was a familiar scream.
Peeta!
My eyes met the mirror into his room and widened in horror. There Peeta stood, fist balled-up at his sides and a look of angst on his face. He was surrounded by a frenzy of different people in medical scrubs, all looking to bring Peeta to submission.
Instinct took over and I bolted for the door. I tried desperately to open it, but it refused to budge even a little. I pushed harder and harder, eventually beginning to ram my shoulder into the door, but to no avail. Anxiety filled my entire body and I began to scream through tearful sobs for Peeta. In an act of desperation, I began to claw at the broken-down door, eventually causing blood to pour from my fingers as some of my nails had been ripped out in the process. The pain from the wounds sent shockwaves throughout my entire body, but I didn't care.
I knew I needed to get to him. I could help him. I was sure of it.
Behind the door, screams of fear and anguish could be heard. Accompanying that were the sounds of bodies crashing into the walls, floors and ceiling.
It was no use. I couldn't get through the door.
Knowing I was wasting my time, I sprinted back to the glass. I began pounding at it with all the strength my worn body could muster, blood splattering across it with each strike. The continuous sounds of bodies hitting the floor and screams of pain were dulled out by my continued beating of my fist against the glass.
Peeta's eyes met mine and, surprisingly, instead of his face wearing a look of worry or concern, it contorted to a look of disgust. He slowly raised a finger to me and yelled out, "Fuck You, Katniss!"
The glass muffled the sound, but I knew what I had heard loud and clear. I slowed my pounding and I felt my heart sink.
"Stay away from me, " his voice rang out as I stood paralyzed. "If I see you again, I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you!"
My eyes began to dry as I stood there, unable to even blink. The pain in my hands shot through my body in never-ending ripples and it slowly became unbearable. I began to feel my body tremble and my throat moisten with saliva. Dropping to my hands and knees, I began to violently vomit. With each wave of vomit that came up, my eyes began to water more and more, making vision near impossible. Even through blurry vision however, I could tell that something was wrong. Below me stood a sea of red.
This wasn't vomit or bile. This was blood. My eyes widened in panic but the vomiting continued.
What was happening to me!?
With each wave of vomit, another mind-numbing wave of pain. The ground had become a mess of glistening crimson and the noisome vapor of metal arose to my nostrils. Wave after wave of blood plunged out of my mouth to the already soaked ground, and my vision was slowly overtaken completely by red. Finally, the vomiting stopped, but my body ached and felt heavy. So much so that I couldn't summon up the strength to pick myself up.
The sound of a door opening filled the hall, followed by the sickening splat of feet on soggy ground. Like boots on the ground on a rainy day. I forced my head up and was met by Peeta's eyes. His baby-blues no longer had any humanity behind them. Only hatred and abhorrence.
He kneeled beside me and smiled. But not a smile of sincerity. One of malice and animosity.
"Katniss," he began. "Thanks for finding me." He told me those words sweetly once before, during the 74th Games, when I had located him by that stream. He had been camouflaged so well that I nearly stepped on him. I had saved his life, but now I feared for mine.
I gaped, but before I could mutter even a word, my face exploded with pain. Peeta had punched me. His strength was astounding even through the Capitols torture and malnourishment. My face fell to the floor with a loud splat, covering it in blood.
"Remember, we're madly in love, so it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it," Peeta said through gnashed teeth. Another flashback of the games, and another feeling of sickness. A quote he once told me out of love, now used as a quote of antipathy. His voice sounded nothing like the one I knew. It was guttural and cruel.
I tried to call-up all the strength I could to get to my feet but before I could do so, I was kicked in the ribs with such force that I immediately felt all the air leave my body.
Why is he doing this to me?
I tried once more to get up but was kicked again, this time much harder. The thud of the kick against my battered body was followed up by a sharp, cracking noise. My ribs had been broken from the last kick. I flopped to my back, covering my clothes in the gore that I had produced from my stomach. Every breath I took became more and more shallow and the pain I felt was becoming harder and harder to cope with. Staring at the ceiling above me, the thought of this being my final moments dawned on me and petrified me to the point I began crying loudly.
"Everyone you know is going to die, Katniss," Peeta says as he straddles me, crushing my already broken ribs. "But you'll have the honor of being the first."
"Please Peeta, don't-" I began to plead, but was cut short by his hands around my throat. He began to squeeze my windpipe harder and harder until breathing was an impossibility.
Am I going to die by Peeta's hand?
My vision slowly began to tunnel inward and my consciousness steadily faded as I grasped and clawed at the hands I once held dearly in love.
"Tell Rue she got what she deserved," Peeta says through strained lips. Just as his words come to an end, a bright light overtakes me and I feel my body shoot upward.
"Peeta!"
I awaken, covered in sweat and hyperventilating. A hand touches my shoulder softly and I realize that my bed is surrounded by Plutarch, Haymitch and Gale.
"You were having a nightmare, sweet-heart," Haymitch says as he takes off a bead of sweat running down my forehead with the back of his hand. He sits down on the edge of the bed and the springs creak underneath him with his additional weight. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of my heavy breathing as I struggled not only to catch my breath, but decipher what was real and what wasn't. Eventually, my breath steadies to a regular pace and I slowly begin to relax. Even after a nightmare like that however, there was only one thought going through my head.
"How's Peeta?"
"He's okay," Plutarch begins. "He's still under but he's in stable condition."
"Can I go see him?" I say as I kick my feet off the bedside, readying myself to stand.
"Sure," Plutrach responds.
I stand and Haymitch follows, lending me a reassuring hand and a half-smile as he helps me out of the sweat-soaked bed and follows me to the entrance, hand-in-hand and opens the door for me.
"How did I even get here?" I ponder to him.
"You had fallen asleep in Gale's arms and he ended up carrying you to bed," Haymitch responds.
That was hard to believe as I had become an extremely light sleeper, following all the experiences in the Arena. Nonetheless, I took his word.
After what seemed like walking through a maze, we finally arrived at that familiar glass overlooking Peeta's room.
"I want to be alone now," I said as my eyes immediately focused on Peeta.
"No problem, sweet-heart," he says, and with a nod and a grin he sets off down the corridor. His footsteps eventually start to recede into silence.
That dream seemed too real.
I sit on the couch and look down on my hands, expecting them to be battered and bruised. But nothing. With a heavy sigh, I try to forget the nightmare and focus on Peeta.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps steadily approaching me. I looked to the direction they were coming from, expecting to see Haymitch once more, but instead was met by Finnick.
Finnick was a tall, chiseled individual who could easily be mistaken for that of a Greek god. His bronze hair and sea-green eyes made him easy pickings for sponsors during the Games, as his look were the only thing needed to land their approvals. Using his signature "seductive purr", he often laid with several women at a time during his Capitol visits. Along with his sly tongue, he prided himself in his ability to make just about anyone desire him. Through all this however, he was selfless and would risk his own well-being to protect the one's he found dearest to him.
"How's he holding up?" He asks, running his hand through his golden hair.
I knew he wasn't being truthful because he was in that same room with Plutarch and Haymitch after I had left the meeting. I had it with people trying to protect me through lies and illusions.
"You tell me," I replied back in a snarky tone.
He chuckles softly and raises his hands in surrender. "You got me."
"Enough with the crap!" I said, raising my voice slightly. "Tell me what's going on."
"I was ordered not to tell you," Finnick says, his hands still up.
My anger inside me boiled over and I exploded toward him, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the wall. A thunderous thud rang throughout the empty hallway, and even I was surprised at my own strength. I must have surprised him as well because looking into his eyes, I saw an emotion I rarely see emit through them.
Fear.
"Ok, ok, I'll spill," he says trying to pry my hands from his collar. "Just let go of me."
I comply and release my grip slowly.
"No lies," I snarl through gritted teeth.
He gestures to me to sit, but with a shake of my head and a fold of my arms he understands that I am in no mood for games. With an audible grunt, he drops himself onto the couch and puts his head into his hands.
"You see that Peeta and the rest are pretty messed up right?" he says. I nod in agreement. "Unfortunately that doesn't even scratch the surface of everything though."
I could feel my heart begin to sink into my stomach and my throat begin to dry up in apprehension.
Dropping his hands from his head but keeping his eyes fixated on the floor, he continues. "The Capitol regularly injected them with a dangerous concoction containing tracker-jacker venom and countless other toxins. It was meant to destroy the mind and alter the space between reality and fantasy until there was no distinguishable line between the two. Along with the physical torture and mental abuse that they've gone through, there is a very large possibility that those who suffered from this may never be the same again."
I turned around, facing the glass as tears began streaming down my face.
Please wake up Peeta and be the same old you. At least for my sake.
"Now I was told the medical staff is going above and beyond to correct the damage that the Capitol has done, but the effects may be permanent as far as we know. It's up to you Katniss to get Peeta back to the way he once was, regardless of how he comes out."
"He'll be okay," I say, trying my best to fight back tears but slowly losing that battle. "And he'll remember everything! I know it."
"I sure hope so," Finnick answers back, slapping his thighs and getting to his feet. "For all our sake."
He'll remember, right?
Maybe I was starting to lie to myself too.
Author Notes:
Glad everyone enjoyed the following two chapters! Reviews, whether they be creative criticism or pointers, are greatly encouraged and appreciated!
Look forward to Chapter 3 on June 7th EST. Each chapter will be released every Wednesday thereafter.