𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐞 ☦︎ 𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐧

𝐓𝐇𝐆 ☦︎ 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

I don't really register the next while.

The hovercraft picks us up, instantly separating Cato and I from each other. My head is spinning, and I don't really see the people lifting me as I get layed down on a bed, however I do hear them.

They're asking me if I'm okay, if I need water, where things hurt. I try to answer them as best I can.

They clean all my wounds, giving me ice for my bruises and patching up any cuts before injecting me with something I presume will fix me and giving me water. I don't really think much of it.

When we get back to the tribute centre, I get rushed off the hovercraft and straight in, not even seeing Cato. My head pounds as I try not to stare at the sky, which is too bright. I know I should want to stare at it, having not seen it for a week, but I don't. All I want to do is sleep.

And I do get to. I get deposited at my room on the twelfth floor, the one I thought I would never return to, the one I thought would be where I had my final moments of peace.

And when I sleep, I sleep properly. My body gets the first proper rest it's had in weeks.

Good, I think in the dim light of my room, my eyes fluttering shut. That's really, really good.

☦︎☦︎☦︎

It was good, until the nightmares came.

I think they'll be a recurring thing, now. Reliving the arena, the people I killed, the dead bodies and other horrors I saw. You can escape the arena alive, but that doesn't mean you didn't die.

But I'm not thinking about that right now.

It's early evening, and tonight, Cato and I are on live television again, doing our victory interview with Ceasar Flickerman. I'm not ready for it, and I was hoping to rest a little more before it happened, but Haymitch, my lovely mentor, has recently walked me up to the very top of the building, on the roof, and insisted I talk with him.

So here we are, him stood straight, me leaning on the wall, both my forearms propping me up.

"They're not happy with you," he tells me finally, his tone one I can't decipher.

"Why? Because I didn't die?" My voice is painfully sarcastic, and I don't care.

Haymitch sighs. "Because you showed them up."

I want to laugh. "Well, I'm sorry it didn't go as planned, you know I'm not too happy with them eithe-"

"Sage!" He finally turns to me, his tone gaining some emotion as I look at him, my eyes searching his face. "This is serious. Not just for you. They don't take these things lightly."

I haven't really thought of that before. In the arena, I was so obsessed with keeping Cato and myself alive, I didn't have time to think about what the Capitol was thinking of me. I guess now I know.

"Listen, when they ask, you need to tell them you couldn't help yourself. Y-you were so in love with this boy that the thought of not being with him was unthinkable. You'd rather die than not be with him, you understand?"

I nod, feeling my heart beat hard under my ribcage.

Clearly, the games weren't the end of my troubles.