"Why do they call her Jack the Ripper?"
Serabella Chambers, seventeen years old in the seventieth hunger games. When she volunteered for her little sister, Annabella Cresta. Running through the crowd to save her life desperately.
"Well she murdered...
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I don't have time to think, in its place there I stand in the fortress of my own hell. I can hear the horde of Capitol citizens in a mammoth pandemonium, mixed feelings of to a certain degree misunderstanding and revulsion but the main emotion is preference and awareness. They are on the live speakers; I turn to watch the entire television screen.
I feel the hovercraft my entire body, the brace of ladders come down for me. I can scarcely stand but I accomplish to hike up the stepladders. I slither myself up to the top of the ladders, I grunt in somewhat of discomfort as two doctors in white coats succeed to pick me up from the floor. I feel the electrical current rubbing off onto my skin.
I fall into somewhat of an insentient state when I hit the steel beneath me, the doors have closed behind me. the two doctors in white coats and masks pick me up as they begin to drag me into the pure white room, a small door alongside a small white window is all there is in this room.
Apart from that, there's a massive white bed in the middle of it, a hospital bed. We don't have hospitals back at home, sure my mother was a nurse but she ran a stall. It was the biggest stall in the square. Everyone, and I mean everyone used to come to that stall.
We used to lie them on this pale white sheet of paper, I wouldn't because my hands were far too tiny. My mother would take the best care of them she could of course. She would wear a thin brown papered mask, with her hair tied up and wearing a thin coat. These doctors looked nothing like my mother.
They wash-down me down entirely, getting two of the female nurses to do so, they clean me of effectively, I smell of soap and flavoured shampoo by the end of it. With all of the blood on my body entirely. I didn't know how filthy I was. My nails are flaked, mixes of body fluid and filth filter beneath, my entire body including underneath my clothes are covered in blood and profuse muck. I reek of sludge, saline water. I taste like I am hiding in the woodlands for months.
I feel like I'm home once more, with my mother standing with her gloves on as she manoeuvres on a woman who is about to give birth, the baby aggressively getting that baby out of her cervix. I would watch that or when a fisherman would fall into the deep cold water, would get parts of his body bitten by some kind of shark.
I had looked in the hand mirror before I had been scrubbed down into the effortlessly Capitol darling I was about to become. I didn't like the way I looked, sure; my mane was completely messed up and intertwined into some kind of birds' nest, my eyes were desolate and ferocious, my cheeks and skin were hollow and looked like they were about to fall off.
No wonder I won, I looked like I was about to kill someone with one look.
I'm ridden of all the blood, the dirt, the filth on my body and turned back into the woman I saw at the beginning of the games. I'm luckily given some medicine for my wounds, which are all treated instantly for me. they put disinfect on the wounds. They check all my vitals and how I am, I'm in that hovercraft for around three hours before they can release me due to how much I'd been gravely battered.
