ghosts that we knew: A mockingjay fanfiction

16

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 16

Johanna

A/N: Hello everyone! Here's the newest installment of GTWK! Thank you all so much for your positive feedback on the last chapter! It makes me so excited to bring you more Gadge in the future! Now, this is a new POV again for me, and as much fun as writing Johanna's characterization out was for me, I hope I was able to do her justice, as she is one of my favorite characters in the series.

Which brings me to my next point: the following chapter does contain mild violence, as it is a glimpse into Johanna, Peeta, and Annie's imprisonment in the Capitol. I did my best to make everything as realistic as I could all while keeping things "T" rated and safe for everyone's comfort level of reading, but in the chance that you take issue with any of the violence in this chapter, I apologize in advance. Please know that my intentions are purely from a storytelling angle and that none of the events that take place in this chapter are meant to offend or cause harm to anyone. I figured that this was something that needed to be said, because I would rather be safe than sorry.

Again, thank you so much for your continued support of this story. I'll do my best to update soon! Keep reviewing, I still love hearing all that you have to say! Reviews are like candy to me (and I love candy)!

-ILoVeWicked
••••••••••••••••••••••
Johanna pov

I have learned to become friends with darkness.

Those involved with the Games know that they are the reason behind every Victor's fear of the dark. Whenever we close our eyes, we are brought back to the terrors of their man-made arenas.

Daytime is safe, hopeful. Light pushes out the darkness of night and all of its demons. Light brings back the colors of reality, reminds me daily that there is a world beyond the Hunger Games that still rage on in my mind. Nighttime and its cloak of darkness mean uncertainty, never knowing what looms around the dark corners ahead. Darkness makes for insanity.

Although I'll never admit to it out loud, I am not a Victor who is immune to this crippling fear of the dark.

Somehow, these people are able to reach deep down into their selfish, brainless souls and discover that perhaps this Victor is still haunted by the phantoms of the night, and they use this against me.

So, the Capitol keeps me in a cell with no light, in hopes that I'll be swallowed by the black holes in my own mind and finally break. My only judgment of daytime comes when I am able to make out the faint outline of my hands-what is left of them, at least-in the shades of deep, dark blue that fill my cell and are slightly brighter than the hours upon hours of pitch black nothingness that I refer to as nighttime.

Three thick walls surround me on three sides, and a maze of solid steel bars in front of me serves as a fourth wall. Since winning the 71st Games, I have prided myself as the Capitol's Least Trained Pet. I am forced, however, to sit here every day and try my hand at remaining stoic in my belief. Throughout an endless parade of being taunted and hurt in ways that extend beyond being skin deep, I remain concentrated on the wall, foolishly hoping that a hard enough gaze will be enough to break it down. I have never felt more like a caged animal. They want the little, yet crucial, information that I have, and they want it so badly that they will stop at nothing and stoop to any level to get it out of me.

But they can't have it. They will have to break me open in order to even begin to retrieve what has been carefully locked away in my mind. Getting information on the rebellion means that they will have gotten me, and I decided early on that I would never allow this to be the case.