The Hanging Tree

After: Nightmares from the Fallen

It was my eighteenth birthday.

I woke up screaming. Danila's name that time. But no matter how I yelled or pulled or did anything, he always died and then they came for me, their eyes pitted in the darkness, their arms and legs stretching longer and longer. They reached for me and I desperately tried to push them away, begging them to stop. 

That's when I heard Yondrie's voice, low and soothing, "Shh, Jay, everything's alright, it was just a dream, it was all just a dream..."

I shuddered with relief, exhausted from my fight. 

"Which one was it this time?" she murmured into my hair. 

I shook my head. I didn't want to talk about this one or that one or any of them or anything. I was tired of acting like a child who had to be constantly soothed and coddled and couldn't ever sleep by himself. 

I was just plain tired. 

I stumbled out of the bed, mumbling something or other about being fine and needing something to eat before walking down the stairs and unlocking the door. I stopped at the porch, leaning against the railing, breathing in great lungfuls of the sharp snowy air as my head slowly cleared. 

It was just a dream. It wasn't real. 

But it was real once. 

I couldn't say when exactly the nightmares began after the Games but they certainly seemed to accelerate as more time passed, not slow down. It made me suspect the real reason victors were given their own village was not as a mark of distinction but rather to keep the rest of the district from hearing their screams.  

Yondrie and I were married as soon as possible after the Games - both our feelings and the Capitol's sentiments made sure of that - and after a month of my screams and sobs of names and faces she would never understand, she took me to see the doctor. 

That was a new experience for both of us. We had never had enough money in our lives until then to even consider a doctor. 

"I am very worried," she had said to him as if I wasn't even there. "He barely sleeps, never mind eating or drinking. He's always talking in his sleep and has even taken to sleepwalking recently, sometimes walking all the way down the pathway outside our house. There has to be something you can do to stop this."

The doctor, too, was equally concerned, most likely because he had never seen any other victor besides me. He instantly prescribed morphling hoping that would calm me down enough to sleep. 

It did. But it also had the added side effect of leaving me completely detached from the world. After a week where I did nothing but stare at the cracks in the walls, Yondrie decided she liked me far better when I was screaming and promptly destroyed all the remaining morphling in the house. 

As far as she knew, I hadn't taken it since then. But after a taste of peace, however artificial, this was something too good for me to pass up. Fortunately the doctor felt enough pity to keep giving me some of his supplies and whenever I could without Yondrie becoming too suspicious, I took some. 

Like right now. 

The needle was instant relief, shutting out the cold and exhaustion. What was I so frightened about only moments before? I couldn't remember anymore. It didn't matter. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. 

It felt like days but it must have been only a few minutes when the door opened and Yondrie stepped out. 

"Jay, get back inside this instant, you are going to freeze death out here."

I couldn't help but smile. "Yes, mother. Anything else?"

"Your lips are currently turning blue and yes, the prep team is going to be here in three hours so you'd better be ready by that time and preferably not bluish."