Song inspiration for this chapter: Lose Yourself – Eminem

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Lose Yourself

Eventually they lose interest in just hurting me. They're fed up with my bloody and crusty body. They get bored reopening old scars; and hearing me cry and whimper is part of their everyday life now. It's not exciting enough anymore. That's why they come up with new things.

They hope my psyche will deteriorate if they send me back to the dark room. But they can't afford to let me stagnate there for two more weeks. The first time they take me back there I freak out. I thrash, tug at their uniforms, and try to escape. Even though, of course, there is no chance of escaping the Capitol. The second I recognize the bed with the many tubes, the hole in my stomach is back again. The pain is so severe that my vision goes black for a few seconds. But none of this helps, no one cares about my pain and if they did they would only make it worse.

The first time is hell on earth. It's the same dream, the same pain and the same name I'm calling. Struggling for control and struggling against the restraints, I chafe all the scars on my arms back up. I don't feel the pain. The hole in my stomach is too big for that. But I smell the blood. I wish I could hold my nose because the smell of blood makes me sick.

And again I wish for nothing more than death. I want to die, I don't want to have to endure all this anymore. But no one can save me from my torment. I lie there and can't do anything but watch my personality melt away, become someone else entirely.

The end comes suddenly and much faster than I thought. Like I said, they can't afford to lock me up for another two weeks.

They are torturing me just like they did before. When I look down my body I see nothing but bare skin and blood. My clothes have long become nothing but a pile of rags. But I don't long for my clothes at all, no. When I think of them now, I would like to throw them all in a heap and burn them. In my mind's eye I see the flickering of fire. I don't want to touch any of them anymore.

This time they torture me longer than usual, it seems to go on for hours, and when I faint, they wait for me to regain consciousness. Then they connect me to one of their devices that they can use to check my heart rate. When they see that I'm about to wake up, they shock me with electroshocks.

They probably know that this has a major impact on my sleep patterns. It's harder for me to sleep because my body is scared. It burns into my brain much more clearly than all the other pain. But that suits them, because after every torture session they send me back into the darkness.

Somehow that makes it more bearable. Over time it becomes routine. My panic subsides a little. Because now I know that they're going to get me out before long, even if they're only doing it to hurt me. Still, I can't sleep. The days grow sluggish and the more often they send me back into darkness, the more unclear what is happening around me becomes. It's probably better that way. The pain fades away and I hardly notice it anymore.

oOo

It's when I stop resisting their torture, not even flinching when they hit me, that the turning point comes.

I didn't even realize I wasn't making a sound. I'm lost in my thoughts, drifted into another world and have hardly noticed what they just did to me. The constant sound of the hits stops abruptly, and I hear a shoe squeak on the smooth concrete.

My wide eyes stare at the ceiling and my mouth is slightly open. But they must still have noticed that I'm not in it. Slowly, not wanting to put too much strain on my shoulder, I turn towards them and look for Adrian's face among my three tormentors to read the mood in his eyes. I'm pretty good at that now.

I find that one of the Peacekeepers has walked away from me. He's holding a long leather cord in his right hand, soaked with my blood that it's already dripping onto the floor. I try hard to keep my eyes open. Just when my thoughts were somewhere else, it was easy for me. Now it's suddenly agony, the tiredness is completely overwhelming me.

Adrian's cold gaze rests on me, but I don't miss the angry flash in his eyes. Same as last time when he got bored just watching. Most of the time he lets the others do their thing and just observes what is happening. But there are days when his thirst for blood is so strong that he lends a hand himself. Only he thinks up something special on these days. And the look he's giving me right now speaks to that very need for pain. That look means he doesn't like the show anymore.

Adrian stopped asking questions long ago. How can the rebels communicate with each other without the Capitol intercepting the messages? How did they manage to get people into the Capitol? Which Capitols are involved? Are there still rebels in the Capitol? He knows I don't know anything, but that doesn't change the situation. I don't understand the reason for any of this when they know I have no idea.

Adrian clears his throat. "Let's give her a break," he says to no one in particular. "The last few weeks must have been very tough for you." The Peacekeepers step back from me and leave the room with him. It can go that fast. I know deep down that that wasn't all.

When they're gone, I roll onto my back again and take a deep breath. My gaze wanders to the ceiling. A lonely little lightbulb hangs there, bathing the room in an artificial yellow light. I used to hate that kind of light because you always had trouble putting on make-up.

I'm waiting for the Peacekeepers to burst in any second to take me away. But nobody comes. The longer they leave me alone, the more I worry. Has Adrian come up with something new?

They don't open the door again until my thoughts have made me doze off. With a start I pull to the side and tear a muscle. My gaze wanders to the door and I almost raise my eyebrows in surprise when I recognize the person in the door frame.

It's the red-haired Avox girl who's been serving us at the training center for the past two years. Her cheeks are sunken and her red hair hangs in greasy strands. She wears a white body suit with a collar that reaches below her chin.

I falter and try to sit up, leaning helplessly against the wall opposite the door. I eye her carefully, lifting my head to give her a better view of me. Her eyes have a dull glow, and she doesn't seem to recognize me. I wouldn't be surprised either, I don't even want to know what I look like. My blonde hair must look at least as bad as hers.

Suddenly I stop my movement as this comparison crosses my mind. I take a deep breath and cough twice before I'm able to speak. "So I'm not the only one from our team ..." Strictly speaking, she was just our servant, but she still worked for the District 12 team. I don't know why, but for some reason the thought of them even hurting her hurts.

Her eyes widen when she hears my voice. She opens her mouth, but I know that no sound will, cannot, come. She takes a few steps closer and I can see how each step robs her of a little more energy. Her body is lean and you can see that she is malnourished. Only when she kneels in front of me do I see the tray in her hands. A plate filled with food. Real food. Steaming meat and potatoes. To be able to experience something like this again ...

Mouth watering, I force myself to look up. Her face is less than a meter from mine. Her gaze darts to the door, then back to me. I see pity in her eyes. My stomach clenches because I know full well that I don't deserve this girl's pity. Actually, she should be happy that I will die here sooner or later.

A small but hopeless smile graces her lips. She gently strokes my cheek with her hand. Then she turns and leaves. The thought that I will probably never see her again brings tears to my eyes.

It's the first time in my life that I realize how condescending I've treated her. I always thought I was better than her. Because I was from the Capitol while she was nothing but a criminal. In fact, she wasn't actually a criminal, just a lone individual who had the guts to take on the Capitol. She was probably just unlucky and caught. When I look at us now, I'm ashamed. She's not worth less than me, all these years ... I've been a fool.

But I was raised in this society. A capitalist world that craves luxury and is too arrogant to see the truth. They know the people in the districts have to work harder than we do in the Capitol. They know that every year they have to watch their children die on television. But they don't understand. As I have not understood in all these years. It wasn't until the death of Eustace, my first tribute, that I woke up. The Capitol is totalitarian, but I'm afraid the people here wouldn't care otherwise, as long as they're okay.

I can understand why they hate us, and right now I hate myself for it. Every luxury, every meal, every hot bath is built on a base of dead children.

I close my eyes angrily and clench my shaking hands into fists. This must be it then: My just punishment. Sighing, I let my eyes wander to the tray and wonder a second time about the complete meal on the plate. Next to it a piece of silverware. Seems too good to be true. Do they want to poison me? What is the catch?

I hesitate for a moment and consider leaving it alone. But the hunger is too great. My stomach seems to be rebelling. And so what, let them poison me, it can't get any worse than now anyway. A quick death is better than an agonizing slow one.

I'm pitch into the food so greedily that my mother would have probably shot herself at my manners. I gobble the meat down so quickly that I don't notice the unfamiliar taste until I've eaten most of it. Concentrated, I force myself to chew more slowly and let the taste pass on my tongue. I don't know it.

Suddenly my stomach tightens uncomfortably and I feel my heart start beating faster. It's not poison eating through my veins. It's fear of the unknown.

As I push the tray away, the door opens and Adrian comes in. The smile on his face confirms my guess. He tricked me. "And how did you like it?" His voice sounds amused and distorted.

I purse my lips angrily and fix my eyes on him. "That wasn't regular meat," I retort, hearing my voice for the first time in weeks. It even sounds quite passable, not broken. "What was that?" If he fed me a rat or something else abnormal, I'll kill him. I don't know how yet, but time will tell.

Without saying anything, Adrian comes over to me and examines the tray up close. "You made it so easy for us," he says, ignoring my question. "You were so hungry. We knew you wouldn't realize it until it was too late." He turns his head towards me and extends his hand to me.

I don't know what gets into me when I take his hand without much hesitation. Something inside me tells me he won't hurt me. Definitely not yet.

Adrian helps me get off the floor and then nods towards the door. I sway with every step and feel my head pounding as my balance struggles to keep me on my feet. I manage to hold myself up as long as I hold on to the wall. Adrian isn't trying to help me, but he's not holding me back or dragging me anywhere like the Peacekeepers. He leaves and I follow him as fast as I can.

A few corridors further we reach a large room which is closed by heavy metal doors. Adrian enters a numeric code into the wall and they slowly open.

In the next moment I want to throw up. The smell emanating from the room almost drives me insane. I press my lips against the wall and stifle a choke.

"You get used to it," says Adrian.

I exhale and lift my head towards him. The smell is alien to me, I've never experienced anything similar and yet I know immediately where we are. My stomach jumps again. It smells like death.

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Please let me know what you think!

Skyllen :)