DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does.

Chapter 14

Is it possible, to be unconscious but still be aware of your surroundings?

From what I've heard before, no, it is not possible, so whatever state I was in, it wasn't unconsciousness.

I couldn't see. I couldn't hear. All I could do was feel; feel the stabbing pain in my arm and leg and back, feel my body ache, feel my inside burning up. I felt like I was about to explode from the excruciating pain.

I think I even coughed blood at one point, though I wasn't so sure about it.

After many hours (at least that's what it seemed like) of painful treatment, I actually fell unconscious. As much as it was probably nice, not to feel the pain in my body, when I woke up all of the pain returned and the nice period of time when I couldn't feel anything was gone.

But I could see and hear again, so that must've meant the doctors removed the poison from my system.

I couldn't find the power to rise from the stiff bed I was in, and decided to just continue lying there and pray that my power would return to me quickly.

Every few minutes a doctor came in to check on me, but I didn't show them that I was awake and aware of them. I was actually too weak to open my eyes, a fact that really annoyed me.

When I did feel better, I rose from the bed and sat there, then looked around at the room I was in. It was a very bright, very white room, with no windows and one metallic door. There were lots of shining, beeping machines next to my bed and a tube was attached to my arm.

I breathed deeply and closed my eyes again, remembering my final battle with the brainless boy from District Eight.

I beat him.

I won.

I'm a victor.

I didn't feel like one, but the fact was, I am a victor.

I heard footsteps and before I knew it someone wearing a white robe opened the door and looked at me with a stupid smile.

"Oh good! You're awake!"

The doctor made me lie in the bed again as he told me the poison was removed from my body, but it will take time until I'd be fully healed.

He then made several regular procedures on me and then told me he's going to tell my mentors I'm awake.

I changed into a sitting position once again and just stared at the wall in front of me until my dear mentors came. Actually, even when they walked into the room I didn't turn to look at them. I didn't want to see them; I didn't care for them. They didn't care for me before the Games.

"Johanna, why didn't you tell us about your plan?" What's-her-face asked, looking annoyed.

I didn't even bother responding. I just wished they would get the hell away from me.

"Johanna, didn't you hear Teresa? She asked you a question," Buffalo said, looking angry with my lack of response.

So I turned to look at them in disdain, and still didn't say anything. This made them even more annoyed, a fact that I absolutely loved.

"What, we're not good enough for you to talk to us?" Teresa asked, her voice rising as she talked.

"No," I said finally, and was happy that my voice wasn't hoarse or anything. "You're just two brainless morons who're worse than garbage, worse than the most disgusting scum there is. I didn't tell you about the plan because neither of you was worth knowing."

This made Teresa shut up and Buffalo to grow angry; he looked at me, his face red. "What, are you trying to find something to say to me about insulting you?" I said unpleasantly. "Must be hard, considering you have a tiny, empty brain."

This made him walk to me and hold my arm painfully. "Say one more thing, and I swear, I'll rip off your body parts, piece by piece," He growled.

What an idiot.

"Oh really? Like what I did to that Career girl?" I asked, and when I saw him wincing as he remembered I smiled and, in a swift motion, released myself from his grip and grabbed his arm, twisting it painfully. He looked rather surprised by the force of the twist, and his face twitched in pain. "Don't ever threaten me again, or I swear, I'll kill you in your sleep," I whispered to him and released him. He backed away from me, rubbing his arm.

"Now get the fuck out of here," I said to the both of them. "I don't need you here, and I don't want you here."

They looked at me angrily, but obeyed and walked out of the room. It made me feel better, telling them to fuck off like I wanted to do for so long.

And now I could.

I rose from the bed and got the tube that was still attached to my arm out of me. It hurt, but I just gritted my teeth and was about to take the robe off of me when a young doctor walked into the room.

He looked at me with wide eyes. "You're not supposed to get out of the bed!"

I just looked at him with narrowed eyes and got the robe off of me. I didn't care that I didn't wear anything under the robe; why would I care? It's just a naked body, nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed of.

The doctor looked at my body, his eyes widening, but I still didn't care. "Where are my clothes?" I asked him dryly.

"Your stylist… he didn't have the time to – make you anything yet, but – where are you going?" He asked, panicking as I walked out of the room, not letting him finish his sentence.

I found my stylist rather quickly, and he put me in a shirt and a pair of pants, which were both so, so ugly. I didn't bother complementing him – I actually mocked his clothes. He looked offended, but didn't say anything. I think he was scared of me. Good. He should be.

Several doctors came to me again and practically begged me to get back to the bed and let them finish my treatment, but I just told them all to fuck off and leave me alone. And they did just that; maybe they weren't so brainless after all.

I spent the rest of my time in an empty room by myself, yelling at anyone who disturbed my solitude. I didn't want company – not now, not ever.

At the end, my stylist came and informed me I had to get dressed for my interview. I decided to obey and let him dress me in a blood-red dress with low V neckline and an elegant pearl necklace. He didn't try to change my appearance too much; maybe because he knew I wouldn't like it.

Before I knew it, I was sitting in a comfortable sofa next to Caesar, whose hair was red and matched my dress. The crowd went nuts when they saw me – apparently I was the crowd's favorite.

Yay me.

After the three-hours video of the Games Caesar started asking questions. "So, Johanna, how was it like to play the pathetic girl who no one should be scared of?"

"Annoying," I replied honestly. "I hated every minute of it. Luckily, everyone was stupid enough to believe it."

The crowd didn't think I also meant them when I said everyone, the brainless morons they were, and cheered very loudly. Caesar, however, apparently understood I meant them, and his smile was more fake than before. "Well, you fooled everyone, that's for sure." He looked at me again, his smile not so fake anymore. "What made you act like this?"

"I wanted to live," I said simply. "I didn't want to die like a fucking animal, sent to its slaughter."

Maybe this was going to get me into trouble; saying that was like saying these Games were barbaric and awful. Which they were. But I didn't care what Snow might think about it; I didn't have to care about anything anymore.

"What was your favorite part in the Games?" Caesar asked.

"Well, there were so many fun things in this Games," I replied sarcastically, though I wasn't sure the stupid citizens in the Capitol realized I was being sarcastic. "I mean, there was the time when I cut off this girl's body parts, and the time with the bugs, and the boy with the whip… so many nice things, really, I can't pick one."

The crowd cheered approvingly. Fucking morons.

"So now, that you won the Games, who are you coming back to?" Caesar asked his last question.

I looked at the camera with a blank, emotionless expression. "No one," I said simply. "I don't have anyone to come back to."

Some of the people in the crowd sobbed. I wanted to puke all over them.

I was free to go then, and some of the people in the crowd wanted to come to me, talk to me. I shooed them away, telling them to go to hell. They looked offended, but I didn't care.

The only thing I cared about was coming back to District Seven, as a victor. No more orphan Johanna, no more stupid Sabrina ordering me around. I wasn't poor anymore, I wasn't helpless.

But I was broken; I had no one I liked, no one I cared about, no one to care about me. I was alone, now more than ever.

These Games… they made me stronger in some parts, made my heart thicker, made my body tougher.

But it weakened me mentally.

My desire to not get killed turned me into a killer.

And I knew that the deaths of the people I killed or watched dying will forever be inside of me, that their screams will hunt me every night.

But I had to keep my appearance, that I was okay and that nothing bothered me, especially not something as inferior as death.

Because I was Johanna Mason, the uncaring bitch.

And I knew it would be simpler letting everyone assume that about me rather than making everyone realize that I actually do care.

So, this was the final chapter, the ending of Keep Holding On! Please review and tell me what you thought of the story and if you liked it :)

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Hope you all have a lovely day :)