Mockingjay

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Stop it!" I hear someone scream in the distance. I can't take my eyes off of her, Johanna screaming and withering in pain in the bars next to mine. Make it stop! They have her in a big tub of water and put a hat on her head; I think it is electric. She screams, and for once in her life, they aren't profanities.

"I- don't - know- anything!" She screams through gnarled speech. All of us other prisoners are silent, not wanting to be next. I have no clue what information they want from her, or any of us when the torture us. They torture us individually unless someone acts up, I think it's because they want everyone to suffer by the others screams. Maybe they hope someone is forthcoming with information, which no one has been.

We have been in here for a few weeks, maybe a month, and they have gotten nowhere, and they aren't real happy about it. Some guards locate the person screaming to stop it, Annie. Poor Annie. I've been told they are using her as leverage against Finnick and District 13. And that might be true since we haven't been bombed yet. On the other hand, they haven't tried to save us either.

Annie is sweet and so innocent, but she isn't all there, and sometimes she puts her hands over her ears and curls into a ball. I feel bad for her, she's the most innocent out of us all, the least deserving. She wasn't even in the games with us, just leverage because of who loves her. Poor Annie. She went a little off after her partner was beheaded and now she has to go through this.

The guards, which I have started calling them because they guard the president's mansion, reach Annie and open her cell. All attention shifts from Johanna to Annie who is curled in a ball backing into a corner. I glance over at Peeta across the walkway; he turns his head away from Annie. He's the second most innocent here, even though he's slightly older than me.

The guards hit Annie with the wooden sticks they keep on them, for us. No one speaks out for the girl who speaks for others. What cowards we all are.
I can not watch this; I turn my head as well. My hands cover my ears out of habit. Two screams fill the dungeon. Many protests of "I don't know!" are shouted. Finally, in what seems like forever, they stop. I turn to look; the guards are leaving the cells, taking their things, and marching up the stairs.

Next, to my cell, Johanna lays in her bathtub fully clothed in the clothes they gave us. The clothes are simple black starched shirts and pants. The clothes aren't the greatest, although they are better than nothing and better than what they could have given us. Peeta and I look at each other with a look of relief, neither was chosen, this time.

When they do torture him, they put this thing on his face, which doesn't allow him to breathe well and they take off his prosthetic, leaving him vulnerable. I normally just cry in the corner when they torture him. Johanna, out of all people in the world, normally comforts me. They normally torture me by stabbing my arms or legs, no vital organs or anything of the like. My stomach still looks bigger than normal, and as they are barely feeding us, I am sure I still am pregnant. At least I have to hope that.

When this is all over, I'll live in Peeta's house with our child, mom and Prim will live next door, and it will all work out. I have to hope for that anyway, or I wouldn't have the strength to carry on. Peeta doesn't know what happened to either of our families, but I have to think they are okay. I would have to feel something if something happened. I couldn't just feel like everything is... This new wretched normal.

"Are you okay?" I look over to notice Peeta staring at me intently; I shake my head to clear it all.

"Okay as I can be. You?" I tell him with an anxious look to Johanna and Annie. He follows my gaze and nods. "Same as well."

"When will this be over?" I whisper, hoping he'll hear me. His eyes meet mine, "soon." That is always his reply.

"Don't give up Katniss. Wait, you'll see." I hear him mummer. I nod in agreement, mainly for his sake. They aren't killing us, but they want information that we don't know. Eventually, they will get fed up with us. Someone has to know something, and I can honestly say, I don't. No one tells me anything, no plans, nothing. Someone tried to keep it all from me.