Pure Torture: a Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 27

Katniss

"Don't you fret, my dear. It'll all be over soon. And I'll be waiting here for you."
-The Civil Wars

Pain shoots through my body the second I regain consciousness. Before my eyes can even open, it's there. I have a pretty wicked headache, and my arms are a little sore, but it's the pain in my chest that is enough to make me go wild.

The pain is there before I can even ask myself why. I have no idea what happened. It's immense. I don't open my eyes. Instead all I can manage is to cry out.

They must hear me, somehow, because someone comes in soon after. I hope it's Peeta. Or Prim. Or Finnick. Or Johanna. I just want it to be someone I know I can trust or love.

But when the voice speaks, softly but clearly, it's none of theirs.
"Katniss, are you awake?" They ask.
I try to talk. But it just comes out as another painful moan. The nurse comes over to my bedside to look at me. I still have my eyes squeezed shut.
"It's going to be fine." She says. "Don't worry. I'll go get a doctor and maybe you can get something for the pain."

Every breath, every small movement of my chest as it rises and falls with my breaths, causes me to want to scream.

A couple minutes later, a nurse returns with someone else. I'm assuming it's a doctor.
"Hello, Miss Everdeen." The man, the doctor, says.
I can't respond. If I tried, my chest would probably start on fire with pain. I let out a pained breath as my response.
He must turn to the nurse.
"Can she talk?" He asks her, quietly, as if trying to keep me from hearing. If I could laugh, I would.
"Clearly not, sir. Her pain must be off the charts." She replies.

He taps his pen on his clipboard. I pray for him to decide to give me medicine.
"Hook her up to an IV Morphling drip." He says, as if it's nothing. The nurse rummages around, and before I know it theres a needle in my arm. I finally open my eyes. I'm thankful to find it dark in here, as I'm pretty sure any light would burn me to ashes.

I look down at the needle to see it in an odd spot. Not on the crook of my arm, like usual, but in the part of my hand by my thumb. I see thick bandages covering my forearms, a large line of blood starting to seep through.
The nurse notices too. She has a grim look on her face when she motions for the doctor.
"They haven't stopped bleeding." She says.
"Ah," He replies, "Stitches will most likely be necessary. For now, change her bandages and wait for her Morphling to kick in before going to get someone for her."

I watch, both mesmerized and horrified, as the nurse carefully removes my bandages. She removes the last area of white turned deep crimson, revealing an ugly and deep cut down my arm. The other arm's cut is just like this one.

I take in a breath, horrified by these cuts. I realize the bandaging on my chest and a little on my head are identical. What happened?

She neatly puts new bandages on all of my wounds. My head wound isn't bad, just a small cut, but my chest makes my arms seem like paper cuts. The second her gentile fingers touch the bandages, I let out a cry.
"I know it hurts. But we have to." She says, trying to make me realize this can't be avoided.
The pain takes my breath away.

When she finally finishes taking them off, I'm shown a large cut and, if I'm correct, a stab wound. Now I'm really wondering. What happened? I wonder who came after me and did this to me.

When the agony of getting re-bandaged is over, the nurse asks if I'm doing okay still. I give her a weak thumbs-up, the pain in my arms being less substantial that the pain it would cause to talk. I then close my eyes again and she walks out.
--
The next time someone comes in, it's not that nurse. It's my little sister.

She comes in, looking horrified and yet relieved. I give her a weak smile, trying to tell her that I'm okay. She hurries over and sits on a chair next to my bed. She just looks at me. I know how she's feeling... speechless. She places her hands over her mouth.
"Oh, Katniss..." She says, sadly.
I look at her and then turn my head to the ceiling, desperately.
"I know it hurts," she says, eyeing my chest, "but the Morphling should start working soon."

I utter my first words since I woke up.
"It should hurry up." I say, my voice cracking a little and breathy with pain.
Prim laughs a little.
"That's my big sister, all right."

I smile. I talk one more time, struggling.
"What h-happened?" I ask her.
"I don't know if I can... If I can tell you yet. The doctors might not want you to know right now." She says, sadly.

That's weird. Why wouldn't the doctors want me to know?
"Tell.... Me..." I reply breathlessly.

"Well, okay..." She says.
"You had been asleep for the night, and then you woke up. It was like 6 am, and you tried to get up but you couldn't. Your fever had you pretty weak, so you tripped a little and collapsed on the ground. You were fine, you just couldn't get up." She says.

"Then how...?" I say, pointing a little to my chest. I try to save as many unnecessary words for when my chest isnt on fire.

"You were completely helpless. You couldn't call for help or get up on your own, it would still be an hour or so until the doctors would make first rounds. The doctors weren't paying attention to your cameras, I guess. The desperation sent you into a flashback but it was.. It was.. Different. You were like, hijacked again. It gave you only enough strength to find a scalpel in the room somehow... Do you want me to continue or...?" She asks, wanting to spare me the bloody details.

I shake my head.
"Tell... Me." I say weakly.

"You took the scalpel and you were crying and somehow got up onto your bed. You just sat there but then you started to cut down your arm. When you finished the long cut down the one, you moved to the next one. The pain made it all worse..." She says. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes.
"And then you had the scalpel in your hand, just looking at it. It was like you were trying to decide what to do. Then you just took it and you, um, you stabbed yourself. You fell off of the bed and got that cut from hitting your head on the way down. The doctors found you 15 minutes later, lying in an unconscious and bloody heap on the ground. Scalpel still in your chest..." She finishes.

I did this.

I did this to myself.

"But I don't even remember waking up... Or feeling hijacked... I don't remember anything." I say.

"When you go through an experience like that, your Brain almost never remembers the little details... Sometimes none at all." She explains.

I feel the effects of the Morphling finally entering my bloodstream. I let out a sigh, the pain in my chest being less intense now. I roll my head to face my little sister.
"I love this stuff..." I say.
She laughs again.
"I'm sure you do, Katniss." She replies.
"Hey Prim?" I ask.
"Yeah?" She replies.
"How insane do you think I am?" I ask.
She gives me a look, but I can tell its a joke.
"Well, I wouldn't say you're any more insane than your old self who volunteered for me." She replies.
"I wasn't insane when I did that. Maybe that's one of the only times I wasn't insane." I answer, seriously.

"Well, you certainly weren't insane when you kissed Peeta." She answers again.
I let out a small laugh, careful to not hurt my chest more than it already is.
"Okay," I say defeatedly, "You got me there."

This time we both laugh. It feels good to laugh, despite the pain that still lingers. I decide then and there that these relapses aren't going to snuff out my fire. The Mockingjay lives.