CHAPTER 20 - BLACKOUT
Bliss could only feel nausea, sleepiness, pain, and tension. Harlem attempted to converse with her on the limo ride home, but her mind was occupied, elsewhere.
In her mind, she repeated everything she could remember from the files, over and over. She repeated the names of those given assignments, and those written under the 'Contact List' in Creel Doff's file- those Bliss could only assume were involved in the D8 conspiracy, even if the victor himself wasn't. She repeated the information over and over, a welcomed distraction from the screaming radio static of the emotions she was suppressing.
Whether it was the drugs, or the trauma, Bliss still couldn't walk without assistance. She didn't want to be touched, but would collapse to the ground if Harlem wasn't holding her up. Fortunately, it didn't take long to get upstairs.
Afflatus was waiting inside the apartment. Bliss wasn't surprised by her presence, but wished nobody else saw the state she was in. Afflatus' expression immediately changed from thoughtful to troubled, at the sight of Bliss. Harlem deposited Bliss on the couch in the siting room. The soft fabric was comforting, but the tears in her skin couldn't find peace no matter how she adjusted.
Bliss frantically searched the room with her eyes for a notepad. The task was keeping her conscious, keeping her mind from splitting open. She had to write down what she learned before she forgot.
Afflatus started to address Bliss, but Harlem cut her off. "Can I speak with you, please?" He motioned for her to follow him. Bliss watched the pair leave the room. She didn't bother trying to overhear their conversation.
There. On a side table across the room, sat a notepad. Bliss crawled off the couch, onto the floor, to the side table. She grabbed a pen, sat on the floor, and began furiously writing. She was so disoriented, it took her about five times as long as it normally would. She hoped the writing was legible, not checking over her notes.
Once all the information from the victor files was dumped from her brain, she tore a last sheet out, and wrote two last messages to herself: "check if Dad's alive," and "Marcus is my rapist." She figured she'd want to remember who the perpetrator was, so she could avoid him in the future.
She stared at the stack of illegal information, and looked around, wondering where to hide it. She didn't trust any location in the apartment, so she shoved the papers down her pants. The information was safe and sound for now.
Bliss' perception crackled in and out of focus, interrupted by intrusive memories. She felt disgusting, downright filthy. She needed to get the dried blood off her body. Bliss tried to stand, to walk to the bathroom, and crashed down onto the coffee table. Her forearm broke her fall, painfully smacking into the wood.
Her ribs smashing into the bench.
Teeth tearing her breast.
Afflatus and Harlem returned to the room at the sound of the commotion. Bliss lay facedown on the floor, crying.
"Let's get you up, Bliss." Harlem said.
There were hands on her. She flinched and started crying harder. The hands released her.
"I wanna have a shower." Bliss said, slurring her words.
"Can I help you?" Afflatus asked.
"Yes." Bliss consented. Afflatus lifted Bliss off the floor. Harlem waited on the sidelines, fidgety and anxious.
Afflatus brought Bliss to her bedroom, and placed her on the bed while she began running a bath.
"I thought it would be easier if you didn't have to stand." Affy said. She filled the tub halfway, then helped Bliss undress and get in. Afflatus tucked her papers into her folded pants; not questioning.
Afflatus didn't stare at Bliss' wounds, or the blood on her body. She carefully removed the bandages before Bliss went in the water. The water immediately turned red-brown from the blood.
The blood and gore flowing through the grass.
A hideous, gruelling pain as Marcus ripped into her.
Tears dripped from Bliss' face into the dirty water. Afflatus used a soft rag to dab her skin clean. Then, she emptied the tub, and let the water run again. Fresh water filled the tub around Bliss. It stung when it reached the wounds. Bliss' sobs became more forceful, chest heaving. She buried her face in her hands; hot tears dripped down her wrists.
"It won't feel like this forever." Afflatus said after a few minutes.
Bliss thought that was a lie. The pain and shame were all-consuming. Bliss didn't imagine she'd ever feel right again.
"My head hurts." Bliss complained.
"May I wash your hair?" Afflatus asked.
"Yes." Bliss answered.
Afflatus popped off her metal fingernails, revealing smooth metallic nubs. As she worked the shampoo through Bliss hair, she massaged the brutal tension out of Bliss' scalp. Bliss felt her face relax. The relief brought a fresh wave of tears.
"I didn't get it before." Bliss said, breaking a period of silence.
"What didn't you get?" Afflatus asked carefully.
"Why you cut yourself." Bliss answered.
Afflatus sat on the edge of the tub, put Bliss head in her lap, and stroked her hair.
"…I think I get it now." Bliss whispered.
"You're so much more than your body, or what they do to it." Afflatus said softly.
Although the medic advised her not to, Bliss popped a sleeping pill before going to bed. She didn't think one would kill her, and that was the extent she cared about the situation.
Afflatus tucked Bliss into bed, then said goodbye.
"Don't go. Please." Bliss begged.
"Of course." Afflatus sat down on the bed. "I just wasn't sure…"
"I don't want to be alone." Bliss said.
"You aren't." Afflatus lay down.
…
Afflatus was still inebriated by the time she got back to the D7 apartment after the Victor's Party, but she wasn't so sloshed she was vomiting or passing out on the floor. These days, that marked a successful evening. Her thoughts pounded against her skull, thinking about the Party and public punishments. Watching the President of Panem beat Lustre to a pulp was satisfying, but watching the crowd rip Marcus apart… that crossed over into something feral and terrifying. She was glad to be escorted off the premises when she was, terror the only emotion she felt at the thought of that attention turned on her.
She'd ask Bliss to check on Aramid in the morning, and make sure Marcus hadn't hurt her. Bliss was better acquainted with the recent D8 victor.
Bliss and Harlem took longer to arrive than Afflatus anticipated. By the time they finally rolled in, Affy'd polished off another bottle of wine.
The door to the D7 apartment cracked up, with Harlem practically carrying Bliss. He walked her to the couch. Afflatus walked over, immediately. She was about to ask Bliss what happened, when Harlem interrupted, asking to speak with her. Confused, she let him lead her away. Bliss' head lolled on her shoulders, Afflatus had never seen her so disoriented.
Coldness clenched Afflatus' guts. No. Tears sprang into her eyes as Harlem led her into the kitchen. Not Bliss.
"Please don't tell me…" Afflatus started, hopelessly.
"Marcus raped her." Harlem confirmed, desolate, rubbing his stubble.
Afflatus nodded, tears spilling onto her face. "What happened? I thought she was with you?"
Guilt constructed Harlem's features. His voice broke as he filled her in on the details.
"On the Presidential grounds…" Afflatus stated, in awe at Marcus' audacity. It was flagrant disrespect to the President to commit crimes in his home. No wonder he was ripped apart.
"The peacekeepers were called, they took her statement, and Marcus was officially arrested." Harlem said.
"You're kidding…" Afflatus said. So, that's what the uniforms were doing, tending to Bliss and Marcus.
"They had it all on film already… Bliss confirmed what happened and they patched her up while Lustre and Marcus were being punished." Harlem filled in the gaps of Afflatus' knowledge.
"Fast turnaround for justice." Afflatus mused.
"No better stage for a performance." Harlem added quietly.
A crash came from the sitting room. The pair rushed in and found Bliss on the floor. Harlem tried to lift her up, but she recoiled from his touch, and Afflatus could hear her crying.
Bliss asked to take a shower, and Afflatus helped her. The roofies made it impossible for Bliss to move on her own. Afflatus carefully folded her clothes, tucked some random, loose papers back into the pants, and helped Bliss into the bath.
Afflatus tried not to look at the blood covering Bliss' torso and legs. The wounds on Bliss' side and breast were excruciating to look at. Afflatus could only wonder what it was like for Bliss to look at her slashed up arms and stomach. Afflatus appreciated Bliss even more for not reacting to the gore, the times she saw it. She tried to show her the same respect.
As Afflatus cleaned Bliss up, her friend couldn't stop crying. The force of the sobs ebbed and flowed, but never went away. The memories were always the most intrusive, at first.
When Bliss complained of a headache, Afflatus tried to ease the pain by gently massaging her scalp. Bliss seemed to relax, just a little.
When Bliss told Afflatus she understood why she cut herself, her heart broke. She wished Bliss would never have to go through this dehumanizing pain. She couldn't help but hope Bliss lost her memories. The hope was empty, though, because even if she lost her recollection, her body would always remember.
…
Bliss blipped in and out of sleep the next morning, waking, then succumbing to the crushing weight of her mind. There was a chemical resistance, pills pulling her back under again and again. When she was able to remain conscious for more than a few minutes, she propped herself up. Panem, she was sore.
She jumped at the sight of Afflatus sleeping. What was she doing in her bed? Not that it was abnormal for them to have platonic sleepovers, but Bliss didn't remember inviting her over.
As she propped herself up more, searing pain shot through her body. She was so dreadfully confused. Bliss racked her brain, trying to remember what happened. Her thoughts moved through molasses rather than lightning channels, so slowly.
The last thing she remembered was… passing notes with an avox in the avox corridors…? She couldn't remember what the notes said. What was she doing? What the fuck happened? Pain lanced through her side again.
Bliss adjusted herself. She moved her shirt to the side, and saw bandages over her breast and side. Fear clenched her stomach. She sat up fully. She gasped at the pain in her pelvis, a raw, throbbing ache.
What the fuck?
Bliss rubbed her skull, anxiety rising. She looked to her left and saw a dirty suit on her side table. It was the outfit she'd picked out for the Victor's Party, but had no recollection of wearing it, or why it was dirty…
The progression of time didn't make sense. She spoke to the avox in the early afternoon, and it was morning again. Did the Victor's Party already fucking happen? Why was she in so much pain? She ripped off the bandages on her torso and saw a ragged bite wound and a gash over her ribs, both stitched.
What the fuck was going on?!
A image flashed over Bliss' vision, her ribs smashing into the bench.
Bliss' breathing quickened. There were no other pieces of memory, just her ribs imploding on a wooden bench. She jumped out of bed, and immediately regretted the hasty movement. Pain burned through her body. She knocked the dirty suit off the table, and papers fluttered out.
She thought they were important, for some reason. Bliss grabbed them and retreated to the bathroom for some privacy.
The first page only had two notes. It read, "check if Dad's alive," and "Marcus is my rapist."
Teeth tearing her breast.
The blood and gore flowing through the grass.
Bliss' lip started quivering, the pain in her body suddenly made awful sense. She held back the disgust, and pulled out her cellphone, fear for her father outweighing the pain. She hadn't spoken to her father directly in years, but she had to know if he was alive or dead. She stuffed the papers back in her pants, intending to examine the rest later. One thing at at time.
Councilman Beaudrie picked up on the second ring. "Bliss?" He sounded concerned. Relief flooded her, she sighed at the sound of his voice.
"Bliss? Are you okay?" He asked.
Bliss had no idea how to answer the question. "I'm sorry, I have to go." She hung up the phone, then stared at the display screen as he tried calling her back. Proof of life was all she wanted.
She examined her body. Images flickered across her vision, overwhelming reality.
Her ribs smashing into the bench.
Teeth tearing her breast.
The blood and gore flowing through the grass.
A hideous, gruelling pain as Marcus ripped into her.
The memories kept coming in flashes, completely against her will. Ghastly anxiety accompanied the immersive experience. She could smell the grass in the garden, the sound of Marcus' voice, the taste of blood and dirt in her mouth, the sensation of him tearing her insides. The cruelty was staggering. She didn't know what she'd do when she saw him again, she wouldn't be able to keep it together.
Sobs seized Bliss' chest, and she buried her face in a towel to stifle the sound. The confusion, pain, and humiliation were too much.
A knock on the door. "Bliss, can I come in?" Affy asked.
"I just need a minute. I'll be right out." Bliss forced, trying to hide the strain in her voice.
Afflatus didn't know what happened to her… right? Did Harlem know? Did anybody know? How did she even get home last night? Bliss needed time for her memories to settle before she tried working anything out with her friends.
"Okay… I'll put on some coffee." Afflatus answered.
"Thank you." Bliss said through the wood.
Bliss was too freaked out, worried she'd never stop seeing blood if she gave into the anxiety. She put on a brave face, and exited the bathroom. Afflatus had left the bedroom, waiting for her in the kitchen, presumably. She secured the papers in her pants, steeled her nerves, and departed the room.
Harlem, Violet, and Afflatus huddled around the coffee maker, watching it drip.
"Bunch of fiends." Bliss joked as she entered the kitchen.
The trio jumped, startled by Bliss' presence.
"Maybe the coffee will help with your jitters." She tried to say casually.
They looked at her like she was a ticking time-bomb. There was no way they didn't know what happened, looking at her like that, but she was keeping it together so far and didn't want to be treated like a glass figure, prone to shattering. Bliss was strong. Their attitude was starting to piss her off. "You have something to say, or are you just going to stare at me?" Their eyes snapped away.
Harlem cleared his throat. "How are you doing?"
"Well, I can't remember anything but Marcus tossing me around like a rag doll, shoving my face into the ground, and raping me." Bliss said, blunt.
Afflatus dropped her mug, it shattered on the floor.
"If someone wouldn't mind telling me, what the absolute fuck happened last night?" Bliss added.
The group was staring at her again, unsure how to answer. Bliss rolled her eyes. "How about after some coffee?"
Afflatus picked up the larger pieces of broken ceramic, and seemed to stare at them before throwing them in the trash.
The other victors nodded. They were looking at her like roadkill, their distress evident.
"Can you all do me a favour please?" Bliss asked, clearing her throat.
"Anything." Afflatus said, answering for the group.
"Pull yourselves together. I'm going to need help remembering, and I don't want you looking at me like a victim. I'm fucking fine." Bliss said, stalking out of the room.