THE MAN IN THE HANGING TREE | Gale Hawthorne

THIRTY THREE - Hell In Disguise

YOUR POINT OF VIEW

Bright light shines behind my eye lids, obscuring the image of my love that previously rested upon them. I feel warm, safe, comfortable. If this is what death is, I seek comfort in knowing it must be heaven.

But as my eyes flutter open, and adjust to my surroundings, I can see it's merely hell-- disguised as the purest light of dawn.

I'm in a room, a bedroom. Everything is white, and bright, and shining. Perfect, too perfect. Not even the smallest of chips in the blinding paint, not even the tiniest of cracks in the tiled floor, not even a scratch on the back of the room door where it must hit the wall when it opens.

Everything is perfectly painted, polished, and cleaned, and in that moment I know for sure, this is the Capitol-- hell disguised by pretty things.

And I realize one more thing.

I'm supposed to be dead.

I jump out of the comfortable bed I lie in, wondering if this my eternal punishment. Maybe this is death, and my punishment in hell is to forever walk the place I hate most. Away from all my loved ones forevermore.

But then the door to the room opens, and with sickening realization, I know I'm really not dead-- for the very much alive man I despise the most, stands in front of me with a venomous smile.

"Glad you finally woke up, Miss Abernathy." He purrs, eyes glinting like ice. "I was wondering when you would come to."

"Where the hell am I?" I growl, standing my ground in front of the ghastly man.

Snow grins, hands folded neatly in front of himself. "My mansion, of course. In your own room."

"Aren't I supposed to be dead?" I snap, crossing my arms. I just realize now I'm wearing a knee length dress, a tight white one with a plunging neckline and long sleeves. The same one I wore when I was forced to do that interview with Peeta. "And what do you mean my own room?"

His eyes glitter like two piercing sapphires. "This will be your room while you are a guest at my home. As for your supposed death, I merely sedated you with that needle."

I sputter over my next words. "But why did you say all those things!? I said my goodbyes to Peeta and everything!" How does this help him any?

He chuckles darkly. "You confuse me with a man who cares, a stupid man."

Snow takes a step forward, and I get a whiff of the white rose that sits on the lapel of his coat. I nearly vomit at it, it's just as pristinely perfect as the rest of this place. I hate roses.

"Every move I make is calculated, thought out." He says, another step closer. "I did kill you, in the eyes of all you love anyway."

I gasp, eyes wide. "No."

"Yes, Miss Abernathy." His voice is like icicles stabbing into my heart. "Your loved ones were fighting for love, you told me so yourself. I merely took their fight away."

"You monster!" I shout, backing away from him. "They think I'm dead, you're lying to them!"

"This is not a game of chess, this is war." He hisses, amused face dark once more. "Anyone will say anything to win, your rebel friends would do the same."

I just can't help but think, that Gale might have done something irrational when he heard the news of my death. I just can't help but think how much this must be hurting them. They are alive, but now they think I'm not.