A songbirds soulmate- hunger games catching fire/mockingjay fanfic

chapter 8

Drip. 

A leak had been fabricated itself into the ceiling. 

Drip. 

It's driving me crazy. 

"How come you're still fat?" Johanna confronts me. I'm confused whether this is a compliment or an insult. 

"They fed me when I was interrogated." I answer through gritted teeth while I doodle on my bars which have become damp and condensed. 

"Lucky!" She yells over-enthusiastically. "All I've had was a spider which was homed in my cell when I got here!" 

Like a miracle, on these words a peacekeeper gives a loaf of bread to Avel. "It's for all of you."  

The old man stairs deeply at the food investigating every last inch of its crust and suddenly, without hesitation eats the whole thing!  

"Avel no!" I shout in desperation as whom I thought was going to be a friend, greedily scoffs down his meal. 

"What are you doing? How are we meant to eat?" Annie protests. One of the first things I've heard her say since I've been here. Even Lavinia and Darius' eyes widen when the loaf if gone.  

Johanna curses every name under the sun and thrashes around like a fish out of water. The guards can do nothing but laugh. This is probably the most fun they've had in days. Avel is not punished and through my eyes; the peacekeepers laughter seems like a song of praise.  

I lay on my bed trying to get to sleep as it's the only thing to pass time and make the hours conscious in this dump shorter. Drip. Over my shoulder I hear Annie screaming again. She is crashing her body against the wall, it sound like she's having some sort of mental fit. No one try's stopping her though; even If we did try I bet it wouldn't make an ounce of difference. 

Her screams weaken my defences. The tears start again. I lay shirtless, my clothes still damp from the soaking. The scar on my chest from the electric rod is bright red and sore, I circle it with the tip of my finger; maybe they will use that on me when it's my turn. I think the girl on fire would still be burning brightly if she was here. Katniss' face in my mind makes me sound a noise I don't quite recognise. I think I'm trying to cry out but it's got stuck at my throat and I just screech quietly. The illness I feel deep in the pit of my stomach makes me want to be sick so I lean over my bed and cough up whatever nutrients were left in my body into the bucket. Drip.  

I crash to the floor in exhaustion and I'm unable to move my limbs. Let my corpse rot on this spot so Katniss never has to see the coward I've become.

* 

"Mellark!" I'm slapped behind the ear harshly. I instantly wake from my almost-death sleep. I'm out of my cell and Balbus is dragging me across the floor to the middle of the room, to the chair that to me means pain. I'm levelled into a sitting position, my hands are tied around my back and shaking the sleep from my eyes I survey my surroundings. It's the same chair as Darius was sat in before. I know it's the same chair because I'm getting the stench of his blood float up my nose. It tightens my organs, I feel like my lungs are knotted shut because I can't allow myself to breath in the ghastly fumes. I must have been asleep a long time because everyone else is either passed out or too busy mopping up water from themselves to see that I'm out of my cage. I've missed my water of the day then. Note to self, never sleep when the water buckets coming around. 

"You gonna... whip me again?" I ask almost too innocently shifting my eyes towards the leather strings attached to his webbing. My body's exhaustion in overcoming me and I cannot even lift my head to look at my face in Balbus' helmet. 

"Well that spoils the surprise now!" He says taking his helmet off and pressing his forehead on mine he continues, "What's to say you were getting a punishment anyway?" His face is long and thin and he has massive, devilish green eyes that take up half his face. 

"My name...is next on the rota." 

"But you're my favourite! I couldn't hurt you." He purrs sadistically. He then crashes the helmet in his hand down onto my scull. "See. That didn't hurt did it?"  

I whimper pathetically and he does it again and again. 

"Does it?" He asks again. "Does it!" 

"N... no." He hits me again. "No!" I manage to muster. 

"Well if it doesn't hurt I should try harder!" I'm released from my shackles and I drop to the floor. He kicks me in the gut which instinctively makes me try curl up but the scars on my back from my whipping are preventing me. The other peacekeepers join in. Taking it in turns to kick at my head, ribs and back. I spot my reflection in one of the glass windows; even a person who has known me all their life would have a hard time guessing it was me with all the blood trickling down my body. I hear a few bones crack I'm pretty sure some of my ribs are broken. I scream for them to stop but this just makes them aim for my head, knocking out a few of my teeth. That's when one blow lands at the side of my temple. 

Drip.