This is as graphic as it gets I promise, this scene alone could get me banned from some websites. Fair warning tred with caution.
"Who is more foolish, the child afraid of the dark or the man afraid of the light?" ~Maurice Freehill
So, I find myself in the most unnerving predicament. I'm sitting on an air carrier alone, but not alone. I feel alone, though, so senselessly alone.
I have many people I know around me, but none of them know just what I'm feeling. None of them know the hell my mind is.
Johanna wasn't allowed to come because of some fucking water. I should have stayed behind. She should have come. I need her here, I need her, I need someone other than my mad self.
I'm hearing that voice again. Telling me about my worthlessness, I try not to listen but it's so hard I almost cry. Suppressing the pain make my head throb so bad my entire vision pulses. And I know it's all a hallucination that's the worst part. I know it's not real. But I keep telling myself it is. It's all true.
Why is this trip taking so fucking long anyway? We're soldiers we're supposed to be fighting damn it. I want to fight, I need to fight. I need some distraction. I'm on edge at every tiny sound, every bit of my sense is on high alert for no reason other than my brain flipping shit.
I'm trying my hardest to not cry though the engines amplify both the pain and the terror my brain inflicts on me. The pumping sounds remind me of hospitals, of respirators keeping me unwillingly alive.
I won't break down here though, they'll send me back and then these people will know just how broken and helpless I truly am. I won't have that. I won't, you're only broken if someone has to fix you, and I DON'T need fixing. I never have I never will.
"Katniss" I hear Gale standing at the door, "Dinner's up. You coming?" I turn around and my entire world spins around me. I keep my head straight though.
"No." I say before clenching my teeth together.
"You sure? We've still got a day and a half until we reach the Capitol."
"This isn't a luxury trip... I mean I'm fine." I say. My eyes pulse his image so it contorts. Even breathing hurts at this point.
"Are you okay?" He asks me.
"I'm fine." I say quickly.
"You sure?" He looks concerned.
"I will be." I say and he takes this as a valid answer. He leaves then and I turn back forward.
"Still lying." I hear my head take over for the third time today.
"Not again" I sigh.
"And to your best friend too? Maybe you're not as weak as I once thought. Maybe you just want to wallow in your own self pity."
"Shut it" I whisper.
"Or maybe you're just scared of what he'll think of you. Crazy. But you are crazy."
I silence the voice with what little strength I have. I lay on my bed shivering. I'm not cold, I just can't handle the fear and pain.
I make myself as small as conceivably possible. I take myself in a close hold. I try and force sleep but the pain won't leave.
My whole body wracks with shaking, my brain tries to speak louder than anything else. That's when I feel a trickle of blood run down my fingers. I've cut open my skin, lucky for me the cuts are covered by my hair. The others won't know how crazy I am.
I hear a knocking at the door. I wipe the blood off my fingers and open the door. These simple actions make me realize yet again, that I'm sick to my stomach.
Peeta stands in front of me, "I brought you something." He holds up a plate. I want to vomit right there, but I swallow it. I'm fine, I'm perfectly okay.
"Thank you." I say. He steps into my room without asking. He sits on my bed and pats it signaling me to sit with him. I hesitantly obey.
"I'm here to make sure you eat," He says.
"You don't have to." I say.
"You must not know me then." He says. I start to eat slowly.
He touches me, not only does he touch me but he touches my left shoulder blade. The thing pinned to the wall when I was raped. The skin that was bruised too heavily being pinned to a wall. The skin is still yellow from it, and now my skin ripples in dissatisfaction. The slightest touch sets me off.
Sick to my stomach I drop my fork.
"Useless pile of shit." I take my hands to my head again.
"Fuck" I whisper.
"Katniss?" Peeta asks. Have your thoughts ever contradicted so much it's almost like they're punching you from the inside? Yeah, that's happening to me now.
"He pities you greatly. You ARE pitiful."
I punch my head and dig my nails back into my brain. "Leave me alone" I beg.
Peeta holds me close to him hushing me. But I won't be silenced, not soon enough.
The voice changes from it's usual sinister tone to Snow's voice. "He is your weakness." I push Peeta off me, my food tumbles to the floor and the plate shatters cutting my bare feet.
Blood, I have an unusual craving for blood. But no ordinary blood. My own blood is what I thirst for.
In a fit of rage I dig my nails into the cuts I'd made previously and rip down my face. When I pull my hands back they're crimson and uneven torn skin hang from my nails. I am officially insane.
I don't scream in pain but Peeta does. "Katniss stop! Help!" But I won't stop. I hear pounding feet and begin to feel like I'm back in that dark room where I was ripped to shreds.
I scream inaudible words throwing my forehead into the wall. Then, I knock the back of my head into the wall as hard as I can. Almost immediately my vision blurs into blackness.
I'm still painfully conscious though. I've just temporarily blinded my own eyes.
I tear the skin on my arms, my skin, the thing that makes me feel more claustrophobic than anything in the entire world.
I hear indistinct voices telling me to stop, but I haven't felt so in control since before my Games.
I begin to recall the first time a group of six men raped me. How I wanted someone else's blood shed.
I was wrong then. I wanted my blood shed. I wanted my own skin back. Everything I had been was the Capitol's doing. Now I am insane I'll admit it.
I'm bat shit crazy. I need to be put down. I'm a danger to everyone around me, I have nothing left in me to keep me sane.
I try to rip the Capitol's skin off my body, I wonder if any part of me isn't owned by the Capitol but I'm wrong they own me. And they're laughing their asses off at how desperately I want myself back.
I feel hands grip my bleeding arms forcing them to stop mutilating my body. But they can't keep me from destroying all of me.
I taste the sweet metallic blood oozing all around me. I can hear blood filling my ears as it drips off the sides of my head.
My fucking blood, surrounds me. I can almost feel it absorbed by the bed. Though I'm still blinded I can picture each frightened face perfectly.
Until today, I was just recovering. Before this happened I was just pitiful wounded Katniss. Now they'll see. They'll see my fucking insanity. They'll see my pure demented mind in all it's hysteria.
I'm not Katniss their Mockingjay, I'm not a Victor, or any damned symbol of the rebellion, I'm a sick delusional teenage girl who can't tell what's real and what isn't.
The Lightness of Being Insane, that's what my therapist should call the book I seriously think he should write about me. Because I tell him just how fucked up my brain is. And every time I do I use a metaphor for light.
He'll ask me a simple, "How are you feeling today?"
And I'll respond, "Fucked up. I feel like one of those fireflies stuck in a jar. I can't get out and share my insanity. My light is secluded to one place."
He'll crack a smile and say, "That good huh?"
He reminds me of Haymitch only nicer and has a better liver. I tell him everything I can, how I'm feeling, what I'm thinking. Because I need something. I need some piece of the outside world.
After my metal deterioration in the Capitol they sent me back to Thirteen and put me in this white padded room.
When I woke up the first time and met my therapist I looked at him and asked, "How did they know white means temporary safety?"
"What?" He asked. and I explained how in the Capitol brightness meant the hospital, it meant a safe house. When I said this he looked at me and said, "They don't usually open up this quickly."
To which I replied, "Most aren't as deranged as I am." He laughed then. I like him, he's funny. But I'm crazy so you know I guess my judgment is impaired at the moment.
Everyday he'll come in sit down, and for my two hour session we'll joke around and laugh at my lunacy.
He'll leave me then and I can remember nice things. Things that make me not want to inflict pain on myself.
I sing now, I sing a lot. Sometimes I sing creepy stuff to freak out the guys watching me through cameras.
But I know my bliss can't last.
I'm taken out eventually into the cold harsh world. Like the light always finds darkness I always find pain.
Mother tells me Prim's been drafted, I feel like I should be concerned but call me selfish, I have enough of my own problems. My mental relapses send me back to the crazy room. I don't have them often but they're bad enough that I vomit sometimes.
Mother's finally picking up the slack with me. She's constantly by my side feeding me happy memories, she can even get me out of a potential relapse, when my crazy comes out she's there.
Johanna and I have grown closer still joking about our capture. It's easier to laugh than to cry. I've said this before.
I hear the low hum of the television but I don't bother listening to the words coming from it. I instead find myself playing with a token mother said Peeta gave to me in the second arena. A pearl.
I like just feeling it, it's soothing to feel it. The pearl just seems so... Pure. Something I'll never be again.
I hear mother and Johanna stop talking so I finally turn my attention to the television. War, is all I see, smoke and fire. Screams that are so familiar to me fill the empty room.
The screaming brings tears to my eyes, I know what it's like to be burning.
I don't open my eyes as the screams grow louder and louder. I clutch the pearl in my hand so tightly I hope it will keep it's shape.
I don't notice I'm the one screaming until both my mother and Johanna are calming me down.
The pearl in my hand is not broken but my skin is. I pull my nails out of the skin and look at my hand. I've made a ring of blood around the pearl.
"Katniss, you're not the one burning." Johanna says knowing my exact thoughts. I can't breathe I'm crying so hard. "Calm down, everything is okay."
But no it's not okay, there is a woman on the television saying the Capitol has surrendered and a list of the dead pops up in the corner.
I can't read any of the names as I've gone into shock and literally cannot breathe.
Will I finally die? After all I've been through? Have I seen all a higher being thinks I can take? Am I finally ready to see the light of death?
"Happiness can be found even in the darkest times if only one remembers to turn on the light" ~Albus Dumbledore
She won't die, but guess what? Three endings up next! I don't know when I'll have the time to post because May is my busiest month of the year, but maybe you'll see me before June. Again not promises but I'll try.