5Well, your back.. You must have liked the last chapter! Thanks again for reading!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins does.
Chapter One
Flashes of green. Shouting for Katniss and trying to figure out where she was. Sweat beads gathering at my hairline. A humid breeze blowing the trees. Something sharp hitting my neck that makes me flash to the moist jungle floor and stay there. A bright silver light that blinds me. And a claw that reaches out and clutches my limp body. These are the things I am trying to make sense of as I think of the past events that occurred in the past six hours.
I don't remember much about how I got here, in this dark pit that they call a cell. I thought that the Capitol was a colorful place, one where the citizens were carefree and ignorant, where the citizens dressed in wild colors that hurt your eyes. But this place I am in is anything but blissful. The walls are painted a dark color that you can only describe as "death," but the cool concrete ground is left unpainted. Probably to show those who sit where I am now that they have no hope whatsoever, judging from the multiple stains that litter the ground in a color that looks and reeks like dried blood.
The only thing I know about my capture is that they tied me up tightly with a scratchy rope that made my wrists itch, and wrapped and piece of cloth over my eyes to block me from seeing my capturers. When I started screaming about where Katniss was, and demanding to know if she was okay, they knocked me out with some kind of drug inserted into my arm that first stung, but then left a cool, numb feeling all over that made my thoughts foggy and unclear, and I couldn't think straight. Within thirty seconds, I was slumped over in a chair, lifeless to the world and people around me, and miles away from the ones I loved.
When I came to, I was being dragged down a murky chamber, with my blindfold off, but the cable binding my wrists together still present. My vision was still a little fuzzy, and my muscles were a little disoriented from the drug. The walls seemed to have grey stripes painted on them. It confused me until I squinted my eyes and saw that they were not stripes, but cell bars. Cell bars? These compartments were only prisons… Katniss. Suddenly it all came back to me. Where was she? I had to find her.
"Katniss," I manage to sputter out, my voice slurred, but there was no mistaking the fear laced in it. What had they done with her? The man dragging me tightened his grip on my arm, now that he was aware that I was conscious. I worried. If she had blown up the force field, she must have been injured, if not... No, she was not dead. I could not think that. She couldn't be gone. But what if she was… gone. I wanted to reach out to her and stroke her dark hair and tell her I love her, and that I always will, but what if I would never see her again. This thought made me even more desperate to find her, the beautiful Seam girl with the grey eyes as shadowy as winter storm clouds.
"Katniss," I moaned again, this time with more volume. The man pulling me stops and thrusts me down to the ground so my face is pressed upon the filth. He firmly places his boot against my back with such force that makes my ribs ache.
"Hopefully she is being killed as we speak. Now shut up and behave my orders," he said. Killed? As we speak? No. I couldn't let that happen to her. I struggled against the man to break free.
"No. Kill me, please! She has a little sister, Prim, and her mother-" I felt the cool metal of a gun being pressed against the side of my head, making me shiver slightly.
"Enough already! I thought I told you to be silent. I've had just about had enough of your relentless babbling! Say one more word and I WILL kill you before they can," He said in a dark tone. He then laughed a nasty sounding cackle, "Besides, if we had her, we wouldn't need you and your mindless jabbering." He unlocked the cell in front of us, still one hand planted securely on my left shoulder, and throws me into the musty room. I hit my upper arm on the wall, the impact enough to cause a brick come loose from the wall. I gritted my teeth to hold in a cry of pain. The guard laughed and locked the door behind me, and then continued hooting in entertainment as he continued down the path that we came.
I swore under my breath and felt my injured shoulder. It hurt, very badly, and hoped it was just bruised. A flash of white among the dark room caught my eye. It was inside the brick. It looked like... paper. I crossed the room to the brick and brought it back to the corner I was sitting in before. Carefully, I pulled out the paper. It was wrinkled, but free from any writing. Why was there a single piece of paper lodged inside a brick? Surly no one knew about it… As I was thinking about what I could do with a piece of paper, I noticed something else in the terracotta block: a pen. Right then and there I decided what I was going to do with the pen and paper. I would write letters to Katniss.
Thanks again so much for reading! If you have any complaints, comments, suggestions, or any CC, please don't afraid to tell me. :)
-luvkatnisseverdeen