Pure Torture: a Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 46

Katniss

"If you want the truth, I'll need to confess. I'm not alright, I'm broken inside."
-Sanctus Real

Guards encircle me. I don't fight back. I have no intentions of fighting back. In reality, I just want Peeta. My eyes search the crowd for him frantically, but the guards are in my way.
"Peeta!" I yell out as they grab my arms. I struggle against them, trying to find him.
"Peeta!" I scream again. I'm screaming his name over and over again before one of the guards yells for me to be quiet. I flail around, trying to escape their grasp. I kick and scream and squirm. Two guards grab my legs.
They're taking me inside when I see him. I've long since stopped screaming, too desperate to make a noise anymore.

He tries to come near but more guards put their arms out to keep him from moving.
"Peeta..." I whisper when I see him. He looks sadder than he ever has before. His blue eyes look like pure sadness when we make eye contact. I stop moving when I see him. A look of pure desperation is on my face.
A single tear rolls down my face.
The last thing I see before they put the blindfold over my eyes is Peeta.

--

They leave me on the mattress in a heap, where I wake up a few hours later. I slowly take the blindfold off of my eyes, and look around the room I've been put in.
I would recognize it anywhere. It's the exact room I stayed in in the Tribute Center before my Games. Only the mattress and walls are stripped bare and the closet door hangs open, revealing emptiness.

After examining the room, I sit back down on the bed. I know I'm going to be tried and found guilty, sentenced to death within two weeks. I can almost guarantee it. I killed the President, don't I need to be killed?

I contemplate this for hours, for days. I don't bother to even try to kill myself, because I know I'll be dying soon, for a while. But it's becoming so hard, being all alone, knowing my sister's dead...
I want to be with her so badly. Badly enough, I finally find an appropriate way to kill myself off. I won't hang myself or starve myself or overdose on my medication. I'm going to use the tools Snow gave me.

My plan is fairly simple, cause myself so much panic or pain that I go into a flashback, and make it a bad one. It's not foolproof, but it's better than me awaiting my execution.

On the 8th day of being alone, I decide to do it. I think of my sister, of all the deaths I've caused. For a moment I believe I'm doing it when I feel myself get shaky. But the shaking stops after a couple of minutes. If mental pain alone can't do this, I'll add something more. I rake my fingernails all over my skin. My legs and arms and face are covered in scratches, bleeding. It hurts. Badly.
So why isn't this working?

I give up on day 9. I crouch in the corner, head in my knees.
On day 10, I decide to try starvation. I'll stop taking any food or even my medicine. If I can stick to it, I should be gone soon enough.
Early in the morning on day 13, I feel on the brink of death. My stomach aches with hunger, but still I don't eat. I lie on the bed, sometimes crying, but sometimes just letting my thoughts take over. I have dreams of Prim yelling at me to eat something, but I don't listen to her.

The world is getting fuzzy around the edges by midday. I count 2 and a half days since my last crumb of food. Finally, I'm leaving this unwanted life of mine. I'm lying on the mattress when I finally feel sleep, or what I hope is death, pulling me out. I've gotten lucky, I think. I won't have to die by other people.

Finally. Finally, the world goes dark. I whisper a silent Sorry to Peeta and Goodbye to the world.

--

When I open my eyes, I'm not in a happy place with my sister.

I'm in the hospital. Still alive. Tears cloud my vision. I wasn't strong enough to do it. I wasn't dead enough to be gone forever. They must have found me and brought me here.

I would scream, yell profanities at the world, but it's so uncomfortable. There's a small tube running into my nose, down my throat, and into my stomach. They're force-feeding me.

Haymitch enters the white hospital room, not gray (since this is the Capitol, not District 13), and just stares at me. He puts his hand on his forehead, frustratedly.
"Katniss! What were you thinking? You could have died. Actually, you were dead!" He says, angrily.
"That's what I was hoping for. But you wouldn't let me. Why are you doing this to me? I just want to die, Haymitch. Please, just let me die." I say, begging him.

"You know why I won't let you die? Because I made you a deal to keep Peeta alive. And I did that for you. I also made a deal with Peeta to keep you alive. And if I held up your deal and not his, the least I can do is hold up his end." He says.
I don't respond.
"Try to remember, will you?" He says.

The angry version of Haymitch breaks and he goes back to being like a father figure.
"Katniss... You were dead. It took them a good hour to get you back. We were all so scared. Peeta's still a mess." He says, sighing.
"Oh my God... Peeta..." I say.
"Yeah. He hasn't eaten much, either." He replies.
"Get him in here." I say. I add a 'please' onto the end.

Haymitch nods and exits my room, returning moments later with a pale Peeta.
"Hey, Peeta." I say.
"Oh my... Oh my God." He says, tears in his eyes.
"Come here." I say quietly. He comes near me and I ignore the pain to sit up. I wrap my arms around his shaking body. I rest my head on his shoulder.
"You were... You were dead." He says through quiet tears.
"I know. I'm so sorry, Peeta. I'm sorry. I love you. I love you." I say.
"What was this all about?" Peeta asks.
"I don't know. It's so hard sometimes. And now that Prim's... You know..." I say, "And it's just that all of the death and destruction is my fault. I'll have to live with it forever. And it's all on me. To me, that's not a life worth living."

Peeta helps me lay back again and pulls up a little chair. He runs his hand up and down my arm lightly, avoiding my IV when he gets near it. He moves his hand to my face though, where I feel him start to run it over my forehead. It's comforting, but nothing could ever quiet the pain I feel.
"Katniss, you know you don't have to do this alone. If you need forgiveness for all of this, you can have it. You're forgiven, okay? It's all going to be okay." Peeta says. I give a little nod in reply.

"Hey..." I say, "Is Finnick here?"
Peeta's face goes white, as if all of the color has been drained from it.
"Where's Finnick...?" I ask. But I don't need him answer anymore. I know.
"Katniss..." He says, "I'm so sorry... There were these mutts when we were fighting. We couldn't get to him in time..." He says. I hear his voice breaking as he starts to cry. And I'm crying, too. Finnick, one of my only friends, is dead. And so is my sister.

Snow, even in his last days, tried to do as much as he could to break me. And he's accomplished all he could. Despite Peeta, despite the company of the doctors and Haymitch, I've never felt so damn alone. The only people I want are dead and unreachable.
Peeta likes to tell me that they're still with me. It takes me back to when I was in surgery and I was on the boat with my father. I take some comfort in his words, when he said that he'd be waiting for me with open arms. That means he was also waiting for Prim. Prim can meet Rue, be with dad, pick flowers in the meadow like she used to.

And Finnick. He can be with Mags again. He can swim whenever he likes and eat sugar cubes as much as he wants to. But this comfort will never ever be enough to fill the holes their deaths put in my heart.

I miss them so badly. I would do anything to have them back here with me. Peeta holds my hand as sobs wrack through my body.
"I never wanted anyone to die for me!" I say through sobs.
"I know, Katniss." He says, trying to soothe me. But I fear I'm crossing some line into hysteria. Again. It always ends like this, doesnt it? I can never ever keep myself going.

I sob uncontrollably. I can't quite catch my breath. Something in me snaps and I must go insane for a moment, because the next thing I know Peeta is trying to calm me down and my feeding tube has been pulled out.

Finally, when I've stopped sobbing and wailing, I lie there in my bed with puffy eyes and heaving chest.
I stare at Peeta, unblinking.
One stray tear runs down my cheek, and he wipes it away gently.
"You're going to be okay. We'll get through this, Katniss. I know how much you loved them." He says quietly.

"But I couldn't keep them alive, could I?" I reply.

**hey guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I love when you guys comment and talk to me, so please keep doing it! If you want to DM me you can or just talk to me in the comments! I love seeing what you guys have to say! 💞

Xoxo, Aly 💘**