"Isn't it lovely. All alone.
Heart made of glass. My mind of stone.
Tear me to pieces. Skin to bone."
━━━━━━ ⋆⋅ ➹ ⋅⋆ ━━━━━━
BOOK 1 - Indiana Summers is the niece to two Victors and the sweetheart of the Capitol but now she'd been dropped into the...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
┏━━━━━━ ⋆⋅ ➹ ⋅⋆ ━━━━━━┓ 'Cause I've drawn regret. From the truth of a thousand lies. So let mercy come and wash away. What I've done.' ┗━━━━━━ ⋆⋅ ➹ ⋅⋆ ━━━━━━┛
Sweat coated the palms of her hands and she found herself rubbing them dry on the fabric of her grey trousers for the fifth time in the past half-hour. The dark grey vest she wore clung uncomfortably to her back and her mouth felt dry. Unable to prevent her knee from bouncing, Indiana exhaled deeply as another bout of nausea washed over her. Fidgeting with her fingers, she waited anxiously for the medic and her therapist to enter the room.
Around ten minutes ago, she had kissed Cato goodbye as she was led into a large, sterile room and asked to wait patiently until the medic entered and began her examination.
White walls closed in on her the longer she stared at them and she struggled to fight the memories of screams that threatened to suffocate her. A piercing ringing echoed inside her skull and her hands clapped on her ears in an attempt to force the sound away. Resting her head between her knees, Indiana clenched her eyes shut and focused on relaxing her muscles one-by-one. Praying that she wouldn't empty the contents of her stomach on the clean floor, she breathed deeply and focused on counting backwards from 50.
White. Everything was white. Indiana was officially sick of the colour white.
"Indiana? Are you alright, dear?" Vasha, Indiana's therapist called out.
Gasping, she raised a thumb but found herself unwilling to lift her head from its position between her legs. Moving seemed the most probably way for her upend her breakfast and she wished to avoid that as much as possible.
"You appear to be experiencing symptoms similar to that of a panic attack. I know having tests can be nerve wracking but I have the utmost confidence that you'll get through this."
Coaching herself through her breathing, Indiana tuned out the voice of the medic. Whilst she knew he was only attempting to be helpful, the soothing tone was setting her off even more but she thanked him when he handed her a glass of water. Smiling approvingly when Indiana's finally clamed down and raised her head, the medic and Vasha allowed her to finish the glass of water before attempting to discover the source of her attack.
"Yes, I'm nervous to found out whether I can be released from the hospital. No, that didn't cause my attack." Indiana's eyes had yet to open but it didn't stop the harsh colour from piercing through her eyelids. "It's the room."
"The room?"
The lack of judgement from Vasha's tone was one of the major things Indiana had liked about her therapist; she was a caring and compassionate individual and Indiana knew she would miss some of her conversations with the older woman when she was finally cleared from insanity.
