❝telling me to punish you for things you never did❞

ISLA WAS IN MORE PAIN THAT SHE HAD EVER BEEN. She honestly thought that the emotional pain that the Games caused her was worse than any physical pain that she could ever feel, but she was seriously doubting it at that point.

She was lying on a table in nothing but her underwear, and she was hooked up to about ten different machines. Each of them caused her a different kind of pain, and she honestly thought that she was going to die. She had thrown up four times, and she could not breathe.

She was sobbing and gasping for air, and she could feel every nerve in her body on fire. She did not know what she expected after yelling at Caesar and freaking out on live TV, but she never anticipated days of torture. They gave her an hour of rest every five hours to make sure that she did not die, but she had not slept or eaten in days.

She screamed as one of the machines jammed twenty needles into her back, and her body lifted off the table until they were removed, which felt more painful than them going in. She had memorized the order by that point, so she prepared herself for the electricity.

It never came.

She felt herself being removed from the machines, but she was too exhausted to move or speak. She was yanked off the table, and her entire body ached and groaned. She cried out in pain as two men drug her out of the room and down a hallway. Her eyes could barely remain open, and she was positive that they were going to kill her.

That was until she heard the all too familiar infuriating voice of Caesar Flickerman. She was half naked, the only thing covering her was a loose and cropped tank top and underwear, and she was dirty, bloody, tired, and weak. She opened her eyes to see Peeta's terrified face when he saw her.

She felt the cool metal of a gun pressed against her skull, and she felt her hair brush against her shoulder. She realized that at some point, they must have cut her hair because the ends were brushing against her neck and did not even reach her collar bone.

That was the least of her worries, however, when she had just been tortured for days and now had a gun against her head. It was obvious that they were using her to convince him to say something, so she wanted to yell at him not to do or say anything to keep her alive. When she opened her mouth, however, no words came out, so she just shook her head at him through her tears.

"And I think for you, Peeta, it must be particularly painful," Caesar told the boy, not even sparing the Angler woman a glance.

The Mellark boy snapped out of his trance that he was in, knowing if he said anything that they would put a bullet in her head. "I wish I could give this rose to you, Katniss."

"A sweet gesture for a girl who has inspired such violence. You must love her very much to be able to forgive her. I don't think that I could," Caesar said, and Isla rolled her eyes. Even that made her dizzy, though. She felt like throwing up again, but there was nothing left in her stomach. Plus, she knew that if she even coughed, they would kill her. "Unless, of course, Peeta, you think that perhaps she's being forced into saying things that she doesn't even understand."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's exactly what I think. I think they're using her to whip up the rebels. I doubt she even knows what's happening. And what's really at stake," Peeta responded, sparing glances to Isla. She sighed because she really wanted him to not give in. She would rather them torture her some more, but, of course, Peeta had to do the noble thing.

The Flickerman man raised his eyebrows at the blonde boy and leaned forward. "Now, Peeta, I doubt that the rebels will ever let her see this. But if they do, what would you say to her? To Katniss Everdeen, the once sweet Katniss Everdeen. What would you say to her?"

"I would... I would tell her to think for herself. Don't be a fool, Katniss. I know you never wanted the rebellion. The things that you did in the Games were never intended to start all of this. The rebels have made you into something that you're not. Something that could destroy all of us," Peeta spoke into the camera. Isla could tell that he was begging Katniss to understand what was happening on the other side of the screen. "So if you have any power or any say in what they do or how they use you, please, please, urge them to stop this war before it's too late. And ask yourself, can you trust the people you're working with? Do you know what they really want?"

"Thank you, Peeta Mellark, for these revelations about the real Mockingjay," the media man answered.

The cameras all clicked off, and the Mellark boy dove toward the blonde girl that a Peacekeeper had just released. She fell into his arms, and she was too weak to hold herself up. He looked so upset as he examined her, careful not to touch any of her injuries. It was difficult, though, because there were burns, cuts, gashes, and more all over her body. "I'm sorry, Isla. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," she assured him. Her voice was hoarse and barely even audible from all of the screaming and the lack of water. He saved her, and she would forever be grateful to him. He did everything he could, and he paid the price for her mistake.

He shook his head, and his guilt-ridden eyes made her heart break. He blamed everything on himself, and there were probably people in District 13 that wanted to hang him for betraying their cause. Little did they know what went on behind the cameras. "It's messed up."

"Get up," a man ordered.

Peeta nodded and began to help the girl up slowly, trying not to cause her any pain in the process. It was no use, though, because everything hurt. He nodded at her encouragingly. "Come on, let's get you back."

"No, she's staying," a cold voice informed them, and both of them turned around to see President Snow standing behind them, a small smirk on his face when he looked at the state of the Angler woman. He seemed pleased with his men's work.

Peeta's grip tightened on her bruised arm, refusing to release her even though he knew that they would never be able to win that fight. "No, Isla."

"Peeta!" she shouted, even though it barely even came out of her mouth. Two men grabbed him and yanked him back while two more grabbed her. She fell limp without the support of Peeta, and she could do nothing as the blonde boy was dragged out of the room.

She was brought over to a post behind the chair that Peeta was sitting in a minute ago, and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as they began tying her hands above her head on the pole. Her eyes tried to adjust to the bright lights that were beating down on her. Snow made his way over to her.

"Oh, Isla. You used to be so sweet.," he muttered, and he brought his hand up to her face and rubbed his finger along her cheekbone. She flinched away at his touch, and once he pulled away, she used the last of her energy to spit in his face. He whipped out a handkerchief and wiped off his cheek.

He then turned back around and sat down in the chair that Peeta had sat in. After a moment, the people behind the cameras resumed their positions and gave him a thumbs up before whispering, "Rolling."

"This is a message to anyone who is thinking of defying the Capitol. Here, with us, we have Isla Angler, a tribute in the Quarter Quell. Isla here attacked five innocent Capitol citizens, killing three of them and injuring the other two," he lied. Isla wanted to yell and say that that was not true, but she could barely keep her eyes open. They were still almost closed.

Her beaten and broken figure hung limply from her hands, and her almost naked body was being aired on live television, exposing all of her injuries and her skin, letting the viewers know that the Capitol had full control.

"This young, innocent girl has turned into a monster. This is what the Rebellion does to people. She had to be punished, and so will anyone else who commits treason."