| The Jabberbird | THG |

Chapter 1

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When all the brokenhearted people living in the world agree/ there will be an answer/ let it be

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Katniss

I wake feeling crisp white sheets surrounding my body, I force open my eyes, ripping through the thick, sticky layer of sleep that clings to them. I try to lift my head but give up after the slight movement sends a jabbing pain through my skull, instead, I explore my location with my eyes. Not that there is much to see: I am in a square, white room, with a high ceiling. I see no doors or windows, i suppose they must be behind me where my eyes cannot reach.

I guess I am in a hospital, judging by the bandages I can feel on my legs and arms, and the high tech tubes coming out of my body and nose, I study these, thinking about what they were made out of, plastic? Surely not, this is advanced gear, the kind that only the capitol people can afford...

Capitol people! The images hit me like a shot to my chest, the games, the arena, the force field, Peeta!...Peeta. I rack my throbbing brain for his face, for any sign that he has been damaged, hurt... I only produce the sound of a distant mockingjay whistle, and his arms hanging from a hovercraft claw. I know they are his, I could recognize them in the dark, but where are they? And the person attached to them?

The hovercraft carries you away when you are dead, to let your unfortunate family mourn your passing, or not. But that protocol wouldn't be still operational would it? Not with all the chaos I caused when I shot that arrow. I wipe that thought from my mind, partly because it hurts my injured brain, and partly because I can't bear the thought of it.

I hear a distant noise, a bang, and a person shouting, it is a man's voice, and I recognise it with a jerk of hatred to be the voice of President Snow, the one who brought me to this place, which I now assume to be some capitol prison, and took Peeta away from me. I strain my ears, trying to decipher what he is saying, but I can only make-out that he is shouting at someone, and that he is angry.

I lean closer to the source of his voice, the left wall, and jerk back when a small shock shoots through my body, causing my arm injury to ache in pain. Thanks Johanna, I think. I pressure my eyes to see the thing I know is there, I find it just below the right leg of the table I am on, a slight ripple, 'chink in the armour' I remember with a slight smile, which evaporates as soon as I remember Beetee lying on the jungle floor, the stick in his hand, and the taste of Wiress' blood mixed with the salty water. I quickly switch my mind back to listening for the president's voice, being careful not to lean too close to the force field.

I can't hear him, just a tapping noise getting louder, and louder. I realize too late that it's the sound of footsteps, but by then he has already opened the door.

"Miss Everdeen" He says, as way of greeting, his voice tinged with humour and fury together.

I say nothing. Not just because it would upset my likely concussed brain, but because with all that I can remember, I can't imagine what he has done to my family, to Gale, to Prim, they were so vulnerable sitting there in District 12, watching me make their death even more imminent with my every move in the arena, probably sealing it by shooting that arrow. And, along with what I recall of Peeta, if I say one word, I may burst into tears, and I refuse to give Snow the satisfaction.

"You have friends you know, I just dealt with two that tried to stop me coming here. Avoxes. Tried to trip me over and pour nightlock down my throat." He cocks his head "Friends of yours? Poor things."