The Hunger Games: Victor

Chapter 6

I flinch as the laser hits my skin and traces across my face. At first it stings, and I clench my teeth tightly to stop myself from gasping. As it moves across my face the pain lessens and starts to feel almost like a tickle. Cainon is above me smiling through his surgical mask as the woman operating the laser stares at her work intently.

“Your lips are looking very whole again, you’ll be able to kiss Harry again soon. Among other things,” Cainon teases and I chuckle a bit, causing the woman operating the laser to sigh and give me a little punch in the arm to keep still.

“Don’t smile until I’m done.”

I can’t move or talk to tell her I understand, so I stay still and stare at the ceiling. The 8 hour reconstructive session is nearly finished, but it feels like we’ve been here much longer than that.

“Done. You can stand up now. You’ll need to drink plenty of water to keep your skin hydrated until it recovers, and you’ll be pink and swollen for a few days but all of your scar tissue and injuries are healed. There’s a mirror over there if you want to look at yourself,” she gestures towards the back wall and my feet carry me to the mirror without a moment of hesitation. I stare into myself, sucking in air slowly. My lips have been healed and are full and pinkish again, and the skin of my face is scar-free. My hair is no longer a patchy, frayed mess; it is once again long and healthy. Every part of me is restored, and as my eyes move along the ridges of my body I start to look more and more like myself. A girl untouched by the Hunger Games, only losing friends along the way into adulthood.

But once I glimpse into my eyes I see pain and I see reality. My mind starts racing and I start to feel clammy, and I can taste hot blood filling my mouth and smothering my tongue. I can see Rallie standing behind me in the mirror, and I watch in horror as her body explodes behind me, covering me in her remains and in her blood. I can’t move anymore, but I can see them in the mirror running towards me. Zayn calls my name and an axe flings into his head, Katya screams as her neck is bitten open by me; Primrose dies behind me again, falling into a pile of bodies where Louis, Liam, Sparkle, Paige, Karlo, Marsh- all the tributes piled together like slaughtered animals. Then they start on fire and the fire crawls towards me, hissing as it draws near. Someone screams, maybe Prim, as I close my eyes and get consumed by fire.

“Kate! Kate it’s okay!”

My eyes are blurry, but Cainon slowly comes into focus. He looks terrified, and I don’t know why until I realize that I am the one screaming. There are no bodies, no blood and no fire. The only liquid gracing my skin is cold sweat that makes my palms sticky and my stomach curl and bubble. I try to slow my breathing but it hurts too much, so I wrap my arms around my chest to keep my body from falling apart.

“Kate, are you okay?”

I look at Cainon and try to speak but the words won’t come out of the cage that is my throat. I shake my head instead, and Cainon picks me up in his arms gently. I press my face into his chest and start to wail, my tears warming my cheeks and rolling into my mouth. The taste reminds me of Katya’s blood, and my stomach wrenches forward as I try not to vomit.

Cainon doesn’t say anything as he carries me back towards Harry’s room, but I put my hand up in front of his face before he opens the door. Cainon looks down at me and I shake my head. I don’t want to be in there, the silhouettes are in Harry’s room. They come from the paintings on the walls that seep out of Peeta’s broken hands. I want to be in my room, where the blank walls bring me quiet in my mind.

“No…” I say, managing to croak the word out. Cainon nods and carries me away from the room and down the hall.

“Where are you taking her?” I hear a voice say, and I see Harry come into focus. I cuddle closer to Cainon as I feel my body start to shake. The sound of Harry’s voice reminds me of the arena, of the fear and of the blood and death, “Is she okay? Bring her to my room she needs to lay down.”

“No Harry, she doesn’t want to go in your room.”

“She’s my girlfriend Cainon, and I think I know where she wants to be.”

I can hear knives in Harry’s voice as he speaks, and I start to shake my head violently with the rest of my body as it shivers violently.

“Harry, back off. I’m taking her to her room to lay down.”

“Like hell you are.”

“NO,” I say, louder than before, as Harry reaches for me. I can see his hand shrink back and hurt wash across his face. Cainon takes Harry’s shock as an opportunity to move, and he takes me further down the hall to my room.

He lays me on the bed above the covers, and I curl into a ball in an attempt to try to stop the shivers that keep crawling over my skin. I don’t look back at Cainon, and I wait until I hear him leave the room and close the door to start crying. Every sound that leaves my mouth starts from the bottom of my stomach, scratching its way out of me like a violently thrashing monster. I feel the contents of my soul emptying me, dark passengers spilling out of my body.

“Kate?” I hear the door creak open as Harry starts to come in. I don’t want him though, I don’t want him near me. I want nothing from the arena near me. I want to be alone.

“Kate, it’s me,” he says, and his hand lands on my shoulder as gently as a butterfly. Suddenly his hand becomes fire, and claws dig into my skin. I whip around and punch his face, nearly knocking him over from the force of the impact. He looks at me, surprised.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”

I don’t hear my own voice come out of me when I say it. It sounds like the voices of the other tributes harmonizing into madness, erupting from my lungs.

Harry nearly falls out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I crawl off the bed and to the door, and press my head against it. I reach for the doorknob, and curl my fingers over it. There is a lock on the knob, and I lock the door to prevent visitors.

Finally the room around me is emptied, only the bed and my body left in it. I stare at the bed, loathing it. I get up from the door and tear the sheets and the pillows from it, tossing them to the floor. I start to push the bed frame to the door and I lift it until it touches the ceiling with its side, slamming the mattress against the door. The room seems so much bigger, emptier, and impenetrable now, and everyone is locked out and away from me.

I make a nest with the comforter and sheets, and curl into a ball. I feel a hand stroke my hair, and I close my eyes as the hands place themselves on the rest of my body and start to sing.

Deep in the meadow, under the willow

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow

Lay down your head, and close your eyes

And when you awake, the sun will rise.