The Final Turn

The silence between Johanna and me is unusually oppressive. We both know that the past events have crossed a line that the Capitol won't let rest. Because the Capitol doesn't forgive mistakes.

After Peeta's warning to District 13, which is now several days old, they brought me straight back to jail. I'm still in the black dress, heels, and makeup, and I know I must look bizarre. I could see it in Johanna's face when I entered the cell. It must have roused an old memory in her, because she avoids all eye contact with me. My looks must remind her of the Hunger Games, of old Effie.

We both know something bad is about to happen. The air is thick and stuffy and I feel warmer than usual, which may also be due to the layers of silk with which the dress covers me. But that's not what makes us so safe. It's the agonizing, terrified screams of death that echo through the corridors of the cell block. They're still coming from far away, but it won't stop there.

The Peacekeepers are nervous. Since the interview, they've been pacing up and down the corridor, as if waiting for something. I told Johanna about the events at the Presidential Palace and she considers the bombing of 13 to be the point of no return. The Capitol has played a rather passive role in the war thus far, defending the Districts but mostly only fighting off rebel forces. The attack on District 13 is their first active part in this war and from now on there is no turning back.

Her words scare me. I keep thinking about the pictures Caesar showed us during the first interview. Peacekeepers and rebels facing each other in an alley and shooting at each other. I was excited about the rebels' actions because it might bring us closer to the end of all this. Now I'm not so sure anymore. How will the end look like? Will we end up with our backs to the wall? In freedom? Will there still be such a thing as freedom after the war?

We remain untouched for a long time. We only notice the evil around us.

I run my fingers almost carefully over the smooth fabric of the dress. It calms me down a bit because it doesn't fit into this rough, broken world and reminds me of a different, better time. My body feels numb. I'm not shaking, but my heart is beating so loudly that I'm already waiting for one of Johanna's taunting comments. She enjoys teasing me. But not a word escapes her lips.

She is sitting on the edge of her bed, her head bowed and her eyes closed. They shaved her hair while I was away. It hadn't been very long before either, but now you can see the pale skin of her skull.

My hands are sweating like crazy. I wipe the sweat on the dress, but it doesn't do much good. Eventually I doze off, sitting against the wall. My stomach is growling. As I drift off into a daydream, I realize they haven't brought us anything to eat in a while. Do they want to starve us? The claws of sleep pull me deeper into the darkness, pushing this problem afar. Fatigue wraps itself around my limbs.

Johanna's head snaps up so quickly that you hear a bone crack in her neck. I wince and am violently snapped out of my trance. I have to blink several times before I'm able to completely shake off the tiredness. My eyes meet hers and seeing the mixture of fear and certainty in her eyes sends chills down my spine.

"Try to stay alive," she whispers in a neutral tone. Her hands, gripping the metal edge of the bed, cramp.

Johanna has a stronger survival instinct than me. She feels things before I do. I take a deep breath, ignoring the pangs in my chest and the need for water as I fill my lungs with warm, depleted oxygen. I try to stay calm, but it's hard for me. It's been a long time since the last time, and I tell myself I've forgotten how it feels.

As soon as I catch footsteps in the hallway approaching our cell, I panic. A second later, the door slams open with a screeching sound and Peacekeepers burst into the cell. I stare at them in horror as they reach for Johanna. My body is frozen. I want to get up, pull her away from them, but I can't move.

Johanna defends herself. She lashes out and throws insults at the uniformed men. It only makes them act more brutally against her. Two of them grab Johanna's arms and fix her in place. She gives me a fleeting look out of her hazel eyes, then one of them bangs her head against the wall so hard that she instantly collapses, unconscious.

Blood drips onto the floor as they drag her out of the room. A scream escapes my throat. My eyes catch on the red liquid and I can feel the hysteria boiling up inside me. More Peacekeepers are coming my way. How many can there be?

I shake my head vigorously and start screaming again. I can't prevent it. It's like my body is taking over and locking me up somewhere deep in my mind. I can feel my lips parting and my voice begging them to leave me alone.

Of course it's useless. The two reach for me and I'm afraid that they will treat me the same as Johanna. But before they can do anything like that, they've already thrown me to the ground. My hands instinctively reach out and cushion my fall. I look at the concrete floor for a moment, then at my hands. I'm lying flat on the floor, elbows on the ground, my back to the Peacekeepers. Someone pushes the squeaky door shut.

Is this the end?

The first punch comes unexpectedly, although I should have seen it coming. I don't know if it's a belt or a real whip, but I dare not turn on my back. It would give them free rein. So I just lie there and wait for the next shot, but it doesn't come. Instead, they yank me to my feet and shove me against the cell wall. In the long dress, I stumble and fall to my knees. I scrape my cheek against the wall.

The Peacekeepers look almost the same. They both have light brown hair and eyes so intense a blue I would recognize them anywhere. But neither of them laughs like the rest of the Peacekeepers used to do. Their eyes are dark and angry, the round features hard. Each of their movements is a sign of raging anger. What is worse? People who hurt you for fun or people who want to hurt you for deeper, emotional reasons?

I hear their boots moving across the floor. Then I hear a sharp rush of air and the next moment a violent pressure in the pit of my stomach throws me against the wall. One of them kicked me with his boot but missed my ribs. I don't dare breathe a sigh of relief. Peacekeeper's shoes have steel toecaps. If they wanted, they could crush my chest with them.

My temple collides with the concrete wall and for several seconds all I see is white. Blindly, I reach for something to hold on to and hit the wall. Cold flows into my fingers and I greet them with relief, because the warmth here makes it difficult to breathe.

The relief only lasts for a moment. The Peacekeeper swings his foot again, and this time the wall is directly behind me. I can't step aside. A deep cry of pain escapes my lips, at the same time as the bursting sound of my cracking ribs. I know they are broken because they did the same thing to me a few weeks ago.

The pain in my body explodes and I see stars. I try to slow my breathing so as not to max out the damage with unnecessarily strong breaths. Tears have come to my eyes, but I am not sobbing in what I consider a small triumph. I don't say a word, only my groans permeate the room.

My skin is throbbing where the boot hit my body. And underneath, the pain spreads through my upper body. It's suffocating me from the inside. The air in the room seems to be getting worse and worse. I'm afraid of fainting, which I actually would have preferred at any time. But my broken ribs could pierce me somewhere else if I lost consciousness now and fell forward. They could puncture my lungs, or worse, my heart.

I don't have time to think about it because the Peacekeepers won't let me rest. The ordeal is far from over. One of them comes towards me with heavy steps and grabs my neck with both hands. I can only gasp for one last breath before he yanks me up and I lose my footing.

I gasp as the man pushes me against the wall. His mouth is set in a dissatisfied line and his face looks frustrated. I have never seen him or his brother before. They must be siblings, they look too alike for that. Tears run down my cheeks.

"You will pay for your filthy betrayals," he hisses at me as his fingers tighten around my neck. He has a squeaky voice that makes me jump. His light blue eyes fix me with such fervor that I feel I've done something to him personally.

The image of him blurs before my eyes. The pain in my stomach still pulses at the forefront of my awareness and its seething flames lick through my body. The lack of oxygen makes it more bearable. Another image comes to mind. A memory buried deep in my mind.

It's my first male tribute. Ramon Caravan. He had tried to kill me twice. The second time he had choked me, just like the Peacekeeper does now. I act out of reflex. My brain knows I shouldn't, but any acumen is affected by lack of oxygen, as are the nerves that carry my pain. I kick the man between the legs. He lets go of me instantly.

I land hard on my bottom and the thrust shoots through my tailbone and bites through my ribs. I don't breathe for a second, waiting for the pain, but then the subconscious part of my body takes control again. I take a deep breath, sucking the air into my lungs. And I'm lucky because the pain remains constant to before. No hole in any of my organs. An almost happy gasp escapes my lips.

This is not lost on the Peacekeepers. My tormentor staggered backwards from the attack, his face contorted in pain. But his brother immediately takes his place. A menacing growl escapes his throat as he closes the gap between us and kneels in front of me. Light brown strands of hair fall over his forehead.

"You'll know what pain is in a moment," he whispers in the same squeaky voice as he strokes my blond, coiffed hair. My eyes follow his hand as he slides it to his weapon-belt.

At the same moment, the other Peacekeeper lunges forward, yanks me to my feet and punches me in the face with a clenched fist. My head is thrown violently to the side and briefly I sway on my feet. The same Peacekeeper grabs my shoulder to steady my body. Then he hits me again. Once again. And again.

Blood spurts from my nose onto my black dress. My sight is becoming less and less accurate as my cheeks swell. The cell rotates around me. I don't have time to breathe. I'm just waiting for him to stop hitting me. And he does. He just lets go of me and I immediately fall to my knees.

I blindly reach for the ground beneath my feet. It's wet with blood. I can feel it still running out of my nose. I taste the bitter, metallic taste on my tongue. My ears are beeping so loud, like someone just set off a firecracker right next to me. Every part of my face throbs with pain, and every movement, just opening my lips for air, sends a biting sting through my jaw.

The other Peacekeeper has faded into the background of my attention. His muttered insult of "traitor" alone gets me braced for his punch, even if it doesn't come in the form I envisioned. His metal baton hits me in the back and I scream.

I try my best not to fall over so as not to endanger my ribs. But my mind is so close to fainting that I'm afraid to close my eyes. Like the trance before, the fainting tears at my limbs, trying to withdraw me from this world. I'm on all fours on the floor but swaying back and forth. One wrong move and dizziness takes over. Then I'll lose my footing and fall into the blackness of unconsciousness.

A second blow hits me almost head-on in the middle of my spine. I bite my lip with my teeth, ignoring the protest of my jawbone. Is it broken? I can't tell. How long have they been here to torture me? It feels like hours, but probably no more than half an hour has passed.

I can hear the Peacekeeper swinging his stick. The hissing of the air gives him away. I tense my muscles and lower my head to keep the blood from dripping into my mouth. It's the last hit I'll take before I drift off. I need to focus on the present, the here and now, no matter how present the pain will be.

But no hit follows. Instead, a loud, penetrating alarm begins to ring through the cell. Even the Peacekeepers jump in shock. I slowly lift my head towards them to catch a glimpse of their faces. Their expressions are frozen into identical masks and their blue eyes meet for a split second. I can see fear in them. Then the one with the baton nods and the men leave the prison cell as quickly as they came. The last thing I see of them is their light brown hair, glowing white in the fluorescent glow. Within a few seconds I'm alone.

I can only stare after them with a mixture of amazement and relief. As soon as the cell door slams shut, I slowly sit up and lean against the wall with the last of my strength. The alarm is still ringing through the wing in a shrill, high-pitched tone. I wonder what it means. The fact that I could see a spark of uneasiness even on the faces of the Peacekeepers baffles me.

I wait for a long time that I can't pinpoint. My muscles beneath me draw the cold from the ground like mosquitoes draw blood from people. My body weight pulls heavily on my limbs and the pain brings tears to my eyes. It feels like someone is trying to rip my stomach in half. My face is slowly swelling. At least the nosebleeds have finally stopped.

My eyes search my bed and I ponder if I could make it there. I dismiss the thought. The dizziness has hardly subsided and now that I'm sitting still on the floor, I can perceive the dancing swaying of my surroundings more clearly. I would probably fall and puncture my chest before I could take a proper step. Has Haymitch felt this disoriented over the years when he was drunk?

I continue to wait and am deep in incomprehensible strands of thought when the blaring alarm suddenly stops and the light goes out with it. I flinch, but it's more of a reflex than an active reaction. Through the small window, I squint to peer down the hallway, but even there it's pitch black. They must have switched off the lights centrally, maybe the whole system.

I catch my breath as I close my eyes, lean my head against the wall and listen to the darkness. Exhaustion makes my eyelids grow heavy and soon I slip back into a light semiconsciousness. My body relaxes beneath me. Sometimes I have these daydreams, I just have to close my eyes once and I'm in a completely different place. This time it's not a place, more an atmosphere. I leave my body and the pain becomes a feathery touch in the distance. In my head, veils of color buzz through the darkness. They whirl around in circular motions. Someone laughs. Someone calls from afar ...

I wince, gasping, and straighten up. The cell is freezing. My muscles are shaking and my eyes are about to close again. How long was I gone? Was the voice real or also part of my imagination? I peer through the darkness and listen to my shallow, barely there breathing. Am I dying? Did one of my ribs pierce my lungs after all?

Only after a few minutes of fear do I notice that there is a light shining in the corridor. It's not bright, I can hardly see the wing behind the cell window. It only seems to be coming from the left side, because the white glow gets weaker as I move my eyes to the right corner of the window. It's also possible that the power just went out and the Peacekeepers have to walk around with makeshift lights to patrol.

When I'm sure my lungs are reasonably fine, I take a deep breath. I can hardly breathe down here. Then I suddenly stop. The air smells strange is the next thought that crosses my mind.

Abrupt footsteps echo through the cell block. Fast and hectic. The light starts to move. It gets brighter, throwing shadows of several people against the wall on the other side of the door. My heart starts racing in my chest. Fast and out of step. The moment they try to open the door of my cell, a crushing weariness creeps through my veins. This tiredness reminds me of the time they hooked me up to the hoses. My muscles seem to go limp all of a sudden, they're heavy as lead.

I can't do anything but stare in panic at the figures who now squeak open the door and regard me for a moment. I squint and turn my head away to adjust my eyes to the bright light. For a moment I fear that my tormentors have returned to finish their work. But when I turn my face back towards them, I realize that they are not Peacekeepers.

Two hooded soldiers in gray uniforms are standing in front of me. Their faces hidden under breathing masks, so I can't see their eyes. Both men are holding an assault rifle. Both the barrel of the guns and the lights attached to it are aimed at me.

The second passes. One of them comes closer and my gaze automatically falls to his feet. A white mist surrounds his legs. Gas? Is that why I'm getting so tired?

My brain doesn't have time to figure out the answer to the question. My muscles grow heavy, the sudden tiredness tears at my limbs, holds me tight and finally overwhelms me. I take one last look at the white light before losing consciousness and drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

-

Hello hello!

Sooo what do you think is happening here? Who are those gray clothed soliders??? ;) I guess you know what's coming next! I'm slightly better so here's the new chapter. Have a great week!

Skyllen