"Isn't it lovely. All alone.
Heart made of glass. My mind of stone.
Tear me to pieces. Skin to bone."
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BOOK 1 - Indiana Summers is the niece to two Victors and the sweetheart of the Capitol but now she'd been dropped into the...
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┏━━━━━━ ⋆⋅ ➹ ⋅⋆ ━━━━━━┓ 'And I am feeling so small. It was over my head. I know nothing at all. And I will stumble and fall.' ┗━━━━━━⋆⋅➹⋅⋆━━━━━━┛
Huddled under the thin blanket, her duvet abandoned on the floor, Indiana thrashed in her sleep, kicking out at the monsters tormenting her inside her head. Whimpering pleas burst past her pink lips, begging whomever it was not to leave, or not to hurt her. Glancing over at his friend in worry, Peeta's couldn't help but mull over the slightly scary information that Johanna had told him only hours before. Indiana had gone insane.
Guilt wracked through him as he recalled when she had told him that she feared she was losing her mind – when she told him that she didn't feel pain anymore. He hadn't taken her seriously at the time and he was seriously regretting it because he hadn't helped prevent her condition. She didn't feel the pain anymore because she was barely in reality. She had always been the strongest of them all in here. If she had lost her mind, what hope did the rest of them have?
Left to its own devices, her shattered mind had conjured up images of those she had lost so as to keep her company and guide her through the pain. She had conjured up dead people to do the job that Peeta was failing to do.
"Stop blaming yourself," a soft, unfamiliar voice bounced around the room.
"Pardon?" Peeta asked, startled to hear a coherent sentence come from Annie Cresta.
"Stop blaming yourself for the demise of your friend. After all, you've been going through the same pain she has."
"Except I didn't watch everyone I loved be slaughtered in front of me. I still have my family, she has no one left. Pain and loneliness like that damages someone far worse than torture."
"Perhaps. I think her problem comes from being locked up. It's the confinement that turns spirits like hers crazy does something to the wild mind. Either way, there's no hope for her. At least your conscience is guilt free."
"Annie?" Peeta called out.
"Yes?"
"How do you cope with your insanity?"
"I don't," was her simple reply before the room slipped back into silence.
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Despite being prohibited from entering the field as part of the Mockingjay Team, Cato was still authorised to attend the meetings with them and other District Thirteen officials. Twiddling his thumbs, Cato was far more anxious about his first mandatory 'sanity session' than he was for whatever bad news Coin was sure to deliver. After all, she had been the monster who had banned Cato from missions whilst he had still been dizzy from his concussion.
Chills skittered down his spine when Katniss' propo finished and if he hadn't already been a part of it, he knew that it would've convinced him to join the fight against the Capitol. Apparently, it seemed to have the same effect on everyone else in the room, as they all demanded it be played once more.
"I think we should discuss the decision to send Katniss into combat." Coin had reached the end of her tolerance for Katniss' praise.
Much to Cato's dismay, Katniss and the others would be able to charge straight into the fray whilst he was forced to remain in the sidelines, watching from afar with longing. He wanted to make a change, to actually participate in something that would make a difference to the way the capitalist system was run.
"I was thinking we could do a series of propos called We Remember. In each one, it would feature one of the dead tributes. Little Rue from Eleven, Mags from Four, even the Summers family from One. It might even be a good idea to include Indiana's death, to remind Panem about how far the Capitol is willing to go." Fulvia proposed.
Coin sighed quietly to herself, it would seem she was unable to rid herself of the blonde woman from One.
"That's a great idea," said Katniss sincerely. "Remind the people why they're fighting. Remind them that the Capitol lied to so many families about returning the bodies of their children."
On that note, the majority of the room's occupants turned to look at Cato – one of those dead tributes that had been medically resurrected. Scientific research into his cells showed that all Tributes were injected with a serum that allowed for their bodies to be maintained for a certain number of years. This information had caused outrage among the members privy to that knowledge.
Being dismissed, Cato only had time to shoot Gale and Katniss a quick smile before he hurried off to the Medical Wing to ensure he made his appointment on time.
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"Do you often conjure up images of people you know?"
The therapist seated across from him appeared to be middle aged, with greying hair and kind brown eyes. She seemed to be a lovely woman who genuinely cared, her face filled with compassion, understanding and concern. It was the latter emotion that unsettled Cato; he was not losing his mind.
"No. That was the first time," he answered honestly.
"Why do you think you saw her?"
"Honestly, I don't know. I think about her all the time. I suppose being in District Eight made me feel closer to her somehow. I mean, it was the closest I've been to her since she left my side in that arena. With every day that passes, I'm no closer to getting her back. Nobody around here seems to give a damn that they're innocent in this war and that they're being tortured because of us!"
"And how does the lack of help and understanding make you feel?"
"Angry." Cato responded instantly. "Every thing makes me angry these days. Um, sad. But, most of all, I feel tired and defeated. I think when I saw her on the rooftop, it was my mind's way of letting me say goodbye. It's like my brain knew before I did that I was giving up. I don't think I'll ever get her back. Everyone tells me to keep thinking positive and to pray for the best but I don't even know if she's still alive."
For the first time in the months since he'd been in District Thirteen, Cato was finally opening up about the mass of emotions swirling within him. He was finally voicing all of his worries and fears and, for the first time, he felt relieved. A huge weight was lifting from his shoulders and he could feel some of the anger subsiding.
"So, you think you saw her on that rooftop because she'd dead? Were you hoping you could join her in death?"
"No, that's not what I'm saying! I don't want to die, I want to fight. I don't want to abandon her but I need to make sure that her capture wasn't in vain. I believe that I saw her on that rooftop because I finally accepted the very real possibility that I may never see her again. And, if that's the case, I can't sit around moping. I need to do something. I need to fight in this war to achieve something that she gave her life for. I never meant to fall off that roof. I never meant to go with Indie. I saw her in that moment so that I had the chance to apologise for giving up on her."
┏━━━━━━ ⋆⋅ ➹ ⋅⋆ ━━━━━━┓ 'Say something, I'm giving up on you. I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you. Anywhere, I would've followed you. Say something, I'm giving up on you.' ┗━━━━━━⋆⋅➹⋅⋆━━━━━━┛
