Mockingjay: Peeta's POV

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

The sound of the heavy, thick, metal door opening wakes me up. It scraps against the floor in a way that reminds me of nails on a chalkboard. I rub the sleep from my eyes. The shaking in my hands has now become permanent. I can't stop the shaking no matter how hard I try. Even lifting a single finger causes that finger to shake. A tray is set down beside me. An Avox must have been bringing me my "meal". I look down at my body. I'm thinner. My bones protrude more. This is the first time I've noticed that I've lost about fifteen pounds. I pick up the tray from the floor, shakily setting it on my lap. A stale piece of bread and a cup of water. The door opens again as I glance at the person opening it. Snow. I ignore him, picking up the stale piece of bread.

"I've got some news, Mr Mellark," Snow says, closing the door.

I shrug, my hands shaking some much it's hard to take a bite of the bread.

"You have another audience with Caesar Flickerman today," he says conversationally.

I nod my head, continuing to eat my bread.

"Do you know how many days it's been since your last interview with him?" Snow asks, suddenly.

I shake my head no, finishing off the last of the bread.

"No? It's been five days."

Five days! I've lost that much weight in five days. This can't be healthy for anyone. But that's what tracker jacker venom does to you. I remember how much weight I lost after I was stung in the Games.

Snow continues speaking not noticing my shock that only five days has passed. "I'm not sure how you've eaten that bread so quickly. Though I suppose it has something to do with that we haven't feed you much," He muses, a cruel smile on his features.

"I'm used to stale bread. That's all the bread my family would eat. The stale bread that no one wanted to buy," I say.

His smile creases. "Is that so? Well, get up. You have to get ready," he turns to the door. "Guards, bring him up to the stylists."

I get up. My legs trembling from not using them so much. I've just basically sat in bed the past five days. I follow the guards down the same path I took five days ago. Down the hall, up the elevator, down another hall, and into the same room where my nervous stylists await. They don't acknowledge my shitty appearance, and I walk slowly into the bathroom. I turn on the shower and get in. I stand for about five minutes before my legs are about to give out. I sink down onto the tiled floor of the shower.

After my shower, I see the stylists have laid my outfit out for the day by the sink. I pull the outfit on before stumbling out of the bathroom and into the chair. They style my hair and put some make-up trying to cover up any bruises I have and trying to hide what the venom has done to me. It doesn't work however.

The stylists have done everything they can for me. I look better than I did, but I still look like utter shit. I, then, follow the guards down to the waiting car. I'm wedged easily between the two. The car takes off arriving at our destination quickly. I get out and without a word climb the steps to stage where Caesar is waiting.

"Hello, Peeta," Caesar says, trying to hide his shock at my transformation of the sudden weight loss.

I nod my head in acknowledgement to his greeting. I take the seat across from him, wanting to get this over with. I know what Snow wants me to say.

Caesar tries exchanging a few sentences, but I don't get into them like I would before the Games. "Peeta, have you heard about the rumours that Katniss is taping propos for the Districts?"

I haven't heard of them. But I still nod my head.

"What do you think of them?" Caesar presses.

"They're using her, obviously. To whip up the rebels. I doubt she even really knows what's going on in the war. What's at stake," I say.

"Is there anything you'd like to tell her?" he asks.

"There is," I turn, painfully. I look straight into the camera. "Don't be a fool, Katniss. Think for yourself. They've turned you into a weapon that could be instrumental in the destruction of humanity. If you've got any real influence, use it to put the brakes on this thing. Use it to stop the war before it's too late. Ask yourself, do you really trust the people you're working with? Do you really know what's going on? And if you don't . . . find out."

I turn back to Caesar. I can tell the interview is over. I shakily get up and stumble. Caesar catches me before I fall to the ground. I nod my head in thanks and return to the car waiting for me to bring me back to my hell hole.

~M:PPOV~

Once back in my quarters, I see President Snow waiting for me.

"Well, done, Peeta," he pretends to congratulate me.

I fall onto the bed, exhausted.

"You always seem to know exactly what to say. It's a gift, Peeta," he claps his hand. "Well, we know now that you really don't know anything about the rebels so I guess you're just our bait to lure them here now. Now, time for your shot."

I didn't hear the guards enter but I can feel the needle slowly piercing my skin. The needle recedes from my arm. My body experience more pain.

"I'll be sure someone brings you a slice of bread tomorrow," I hear Snow say, shutting the door behind him.

That was the last thought I have while my body drifts into more hallucinations.

Edited