I hear the canon that goes off, but I'm not dead. Not yet, at least. What will they do to me? Will they torture me to death? Will they erase my memory? I don't know but I feel how I am slowly drifting away. A syringe is pushed against the skin of my neck, and everything goes black. I wake after a terrible nightmare about that guy from 1 killing me slowly. He made a cut right above my left brow, blinding me completely with gushing blood. I wake up shivering and terrified. I look around to ask somebody where are, we but no one else is there.
For a long time a plate with food is waiting for me when I wake up.
One day I wake up and I see a door, something I didn't have in this room before, not a visible one, anyways. I try to get up but I can't, my torso is strapped to the bed. A woman comes in, an avox. I want to ask her what is going on but I know she can't tell me. She puts something in a syringe and presses it against my veins. A wave of relief hits me like you may hit a your bed after a long day of work. Wake up, syringe, eat, and sleep. It's all I do for a while. Two weeks into this treatment, a doctor -I guess, never saw one before in my life- walks in, holding a tray with pills and a gless of water.
''Hello Rue Nightberry.'' She says.
''Where am I?"
''You're in the Mental and Physical Rehabilitation Center For Tributes. Or MPRCFT as we call it."
