Hijacked (Peeta Mellark Fanfiction)

Chapter 8 - Love

        

"And what did she say in the end?"

"She said it was an act, but not all of it."

"And how-"

"Did that make me feel? Did it make me feel conflicted? Is that what you were going to ask?" I mutter bitterly, "It is isn't it? I know what you're trying to do."

After many sessions of sitting in this blank room, chained to this uncomfortable chair with tiny cords pinched into my temples that painfully pump unknown liquid into me almost every few seconds. Then the mysterious peacekeeper Tamora asks me these strange questions that always has to do with events from my past. In the end I pass out from the extreme dizziness that comes over me so suddenly, and wake up back in my cell with the utmost confusion.

If I'm not there, I'm rolling around in my cell from the worst pounding headache that can ever exist. I've lost count how many sessions I've had with them, but it's gotten to the point were it's just predictable. The main thing that I have seen in my awfully realistic nightmares and flashbacks is Katniss.

I'm not sure exactly what they're trying to do, but it seems like they're trying to change my feelings toward her. I think this because of the unexpected over-emotional agitation and anger after thinking about her. This is my only answer to the question of what they are doing to me.

Tamora opens her mouth like she's about to say something, but closes it immediately. She seems only a little shaken from my sudden claim, but she gains her composure back very quickly. Her smooth lips slightly twitch, and she slowly steps closer to me with a suspicious look.

"And what do you think that is?" She responds plainly.

"You're trying to change my thoughts about Katniss." I say.

The brief widening of her eyes is the closest thing I can find to a confirmation of my assumption. She furrows her eyebrows and turns away into whatever lies in the shadows.

"It's true isn't it?" I ask defiantly.

No response. It seems that my confidence level is much higher when I can't see her rather than when she's up in my face. I let my anger build up, the anger directed towards her, Snow, and the Capitol.

"It won't work you know, whatever you will do and say will mean nothing. You can't change love, it's the strongest emotion a person can feel and there's no possible way you can reverse it!" I exclaim, almost shouting.

After I sputter out my loud and desperate claim to accuse them of possible hopeless efforts, I immediately wonder if it was the smart thing to do. Tamoras stiffened figure steps back into view, advancing toward me with long strides. She stops only a couple feet in front of me, where she bores her concentrated eyes into mine. Her dark, pulled back hair is almost like a shadow itself.

"That's very poetic of you Peeta, but there's something that overpowers every feeling and instinct in a persons body." She says coolly, "It has worked many times before. Do you even know what love is?"

Of course I do, the feeling is familiar, but strangely distant. Do I really know what love is? She leans in closer, so I can clearly see the hardened features in her face.

"Fear is uncontrollable and unforgettable. Fear is how you make people listen. Fear is unpredictable but so easy to create. Fear betrays love."

"You're a liar." I mutter angrily, "Nobody can control my feelings except me."

Tamora straightens her posture, and turns away from me once more.

"Okay." She says, almost too evidently.
She's given up the argument so quickly yet she doesn't seem defeated or somewhat fazed that I figured out their plan. Before I can think about it for much longer, I can feel a needle sink into the skin on my neck. I gasp from the sudden pain, jolting in the chair, and the room whirls around in a blur.

"You can think whatever you want." Tamora sneers as my consciousness fades away.

-

Once again I open my eyes to darkness with my face flat on the floor, a distant cry for help greets me as I wake, assuring me that I am back in my prison. The recent conversation with Tamora seeps its way back into my mind. They are wrong; I'm not as weak as they think. Their plan has failed. I can feel the rush of emotions sweep through my mind, then the startling adrenaline run through my veins from just the thought of her. My feelings toward Katniss are now stronger than ever.

But strong in what kind of way?

My hands travel up the concrete floor, my knees sliding with them. Chills shoot up and down my body like little bugs are running across my skin with great intensity. Pain pierces my head as if big needles were stabbing into my brain deeper and deeper at every second. My hands clamp themselves around my head, like it would do any good. I fall over, the right side of my body hitting the ground.

Through blinking black dots, I can see the details of the dirty floor. Dirt, dust, and dry blood. The piercing pain increased greatly, several pained groans and gasps escape my mouth, followed by intense heaving of breath. It continues to get worse, more and more every minute. During all of this, the only image in my mind is of the one girl who caused it all.

Stop it, I tell myself, it's not her fault

Katniss' face forms into my faint imagination. She has a blank expression, obviously carefree and emotionless.

Please, make it stop.

My fingers grip the sweaty twigs that is my hair, several droplets of sweat roll down my face. The cold, dead air brushes up against my wet skin. Each movement I make causes my every muscle to ache, every painful bruise to revisit. So I stay crumpled into a hopeless ball on the lonely floor. The pain is so demanding and strong that I didn't realize I was screaming until the pain shreds my throat too.

Their plan won't work, it can't work. It's impossible. I can control my own thoughts and emotions, it's easy. I love Katniss Everdeen. I...love... Katniss... Everdeen.

The pain picks at my concentration, making a thought disappear so quickly. This shouldn't be hard, I can control my own feelings, but the pain...
I am in love... with Katniss Everdeen.

Perhaps love is too strong of a word to use. I just had a simple crush on her a little child, every kid has a small crush, she was the prettiest girl I'd ever seen.

Looks can be deceiving.

Then when I actually met her, I saw how she really was. She cared about me. She saved us. I don't know about love. Did I really love her? Why?
See, I can control my own thoughts; I can deflect the temptations of giving in to forced emotions. Whatever plan they have has failed.

Wait...

How are they doing this? I just want the pain to stop. Make it stop.
Katniss, where are you? Where have you been?
Please help me...

But my prison is empty, there's nobody here to help me. There never will be anyone here to help me.