The Mockingjay's Melody

Chapter 17: Autumn SilverSnow

I groaned, coming to. I winced and raised my hands in front of me. They were bandaged well and feeling better. I felt the side of my head, which was throbbing, where I found it was bandaged as well. I sat up, which caused my vision to tilt and sent my head spinning. I tried to stay focused. 

What happened?

I glanced around with a sense of dull realization. My head was spinning but I could make out a few things. Needles lying here and there. Empty medicine vials littering the floor. The tube connected to my forearm. 

I groan, ripping the tube from my arm and staggering to the wall, leaning against it while I try to keep from blacking out. I was vaguely aware of me staggering through the hallways, shoving hospital staff out of my way. Peeta and Katniss trying to stop me. Nurses and Doctors pinning me down. A doctor at my feet and a needle in my hand. My hand moving to shove the needle into the man's eye-

NO! I think desperately, waking with a scream. Drenched in sweat and shaking, I look around. I rip the tube from my forearm, but with less hesitation. I groan softly and stagger to the window. I glare out at the beaming sun and I squint. I whip around as someone opens the door to my hospital room. My sisters and brothers stampede into the room and tackle me. I squeeze them back and sob, kissing their foreheads and stroking their hair. "It'll be okay now, It'll be okay.." I choke out, sobbing. I stand and run to my mother and father, squeezing them even as I sunk onto my knees. My father stroked my hair and my mother sobbed with me, whispering all the while. "My girl, my girl..." She sobbed. I never wanted to let them go. Never again. 

An image of Rowan's goofy, reckless grin flashes in my mind.

Suddenly, I'm standing. Shaking hard. I'm barely aware of it. I feel as if my soul is floating over top of my body. I've had this before. I talked about this with my therapist. Depersonalization-derealization disorder. Breathe. Just breathe.

While in my mind I'm calming myself, my body feels like it has a mind of its own. I sprint through the hallways in a desperate attempt to escape the hospital when someone wheels in a hospital bed and turns down the hallway that leads to MY ROOM. 

Rowan is on the bed.

Seeing him like this makes my heart shatter.

I follow them into my room and watch as they plug an oxygen tube into a machine then put a mask on Rowan's face. Large burn marks cover his left cheek and right eye, and all over his arms are swollen red splotches of pain. My chest ached with something fierce. My life would never be the same again. I thought I would never be able to love again. But Rowan had been there too. He knew how to help. He was my thoughts. My life. If he died, I would never heal.

That's just it. I realize. If he died, his parents would eventually move on. They would survive. There was only ONE person who wouldn't heal. Me. Just me. 

I sat by his bedside for who knows how long. I sat until the sky began to darken and my eyelids began to feel heavy. I watched him silently, my legs stiff from sitting so long, until one of the nurses decided to come fetch me.

She walked in with hesitant steps, I could feel it. "I'm not moving." I say without looking up. She hesitates, as if she wants to say something more, but then she decides against it and leaves. I was grateful too, because as soon as she left I cradled my head in my hands and sobbed gently, my cries echoing against the walls of the dull, white room.

The president entered the room sometime later, in which I was faintly aware of. She had peacekeepers drag me from the room but I was too weak to fight it. 

The peacekeepers dragged me to my room, scattering the empty vials and discarded needles with the tips of their boots. They strapped me to a table to prevent me from escaping. 

They placed a mask over my face and when I inhaled, the world went fuzzy and I was lost to oblivion.