Sea green eyes

19 - Him

I know I'm alive, and that's all I know.

I don't remember blacking out. I don't know where I am. How long I've been out for. Who survived that arena. My only connection to the world around me are the snippets of images and sounds, wavering me through the land of unconsciousness.

A pair of white gloves.

Murmuring voices.

Someone yelling outside my room, demanding to be let in.

A cool hand holding mine.

Someone sobbing in the room next to my bed.

Bright light shining in my eyes.

Beeping. Beeping. Humming. Whirring.

A flash of blonde hair tied back in a braid.

White and grey clothes with a red cross.

Slowly, I shake away the memories of what I've seen and heard and try to focus on what I do know. All I know now is that I am lying in a bed, in what seems to be a small room. I have a bandage around my abdomen and general chest area. But I am alive. I have lived to fight another day. I'm not sure if I'm relived.

But no matter what my feeling are, I have to find out if I need to keep fighting. If my loved ones are alive and safe. And who next to kill.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I take a deep breath, and open my eyes.

Look out President Snow; now I'm not just alive.

I'm awake.

---

Hurriedly, I take in my surroundings, heart racing. I'm in a room I have never seen before, in a plain grey bed with scratchy sheets and a needle in my arm. The walls all look the same. Grey wallpaper. Grey carpet. One door. My hand flies to my neck and I sigh in relief. Whoever is keeping me here, at least they left me Finnick's ring.

I swear, and rip the needle out, standing off my bed. I'm in some sort of hospital gown, falling to just below my knees, with only undies underneath. Brutus's hands, groping me, grabbing- No! NO! I scream through my teeth, shuddering at the memories. My hands start to shake, bile rising up in my mouth and I snarl, punching the closest thing near me, which turns out to be a mirror. Shit. The glass has cracked, and a small trail of blood runs down my knuckles.

I have to get out of here. Out. Out. Out. But there's no way in hell I'm going without a weapon.

Looking around, I eventually just rip a small piece of glass from my cracked mirror. Now at least I have some sort of weapon. I shake my head, and slowly walk to the door, testing my body. Whoever else is here, they seem to have healed my shoulder and smaller wounds, although my abdomen still aches in a dull pain.

Ugh. This whole place is light like a prison, the flickering yellow light really not helping the atmosphere. Opening the door with a soft click, I stick my head out, checking both directions before slipping out, my feet sliding silently against the floor. Hearing someone coming, I flatten myself into a doorframe as they walk past.

It's no one I recognize, just a middle aged man wearing a white and grey uniform, a red cross on the armband. Jumping out, I grab him and hold the glass to his throat. He gasps, freezing in place as I spin, slamming him into the wall of the hallway, glass held up to his neck.

"Where am I?" I snarl, staring into his eyes. "Who are you people? What happened?"

"I- uh-" He stutters, and I shake him violently.