𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒 ❦ The Hunger Games Third Book

O n e

CHAPTER forty-eight| DOCTOR, DOCTOR

Ava Max~ sweet but psycho
❝Oh, she's sweet but a psycho, a little but psycho.❞

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THE ROOM WAS filled with little trinkets that looked out of place in District 13. There was a clock on the wall, red and vibrant compared to the grey concrete that it was surrounded by and just below it there was a bowl full of real fruit. The colours were so fresh; I could just about feel the real outdoor air that was infused within the slightly sweet juices of the one red apple or the smell of grass on the two oranges. I didn't know why I focused on those so much every time- all I knew was that I would do anything to avoid looking the woman in front of me in the eye.

"How are you feeling today Lorna, any improvements from the last time we talked?"

I hated that question. It was always the first one we started with and to begin with, it was the only one I would answer. I had been curt at the start but as the days went by I realised that no matter how much I hated it- I needed this. Finnick had told me that I needed it. So now I barely scowled when she asked me the question.

"Nothing's changed. I'm still here, Remy still tries to bully Finnick into giving him a different answer and-" I had to stop to clear the lump in my throat.

"And Lillian is still dead."

The clock on the wall seemed incredibly loud from my position on the hospital bed. If I sat up straight and really stretched my neck I could see the room that they kept Peeta in through the door window, I didn't dare go and see him. Not after what he had done to Katniss just a week before.

"And your memories?" The woman asked again as she tapped her pen on the side of her clipboard.

The memories. That was what I was known for- the killer that lost her mind before miraculously finding not only her dead brother but everything else she lost. I could feel the hot breath of others on my neck with how close they hovered over my every move- some did not trust me after what I had said while others welcomed me with open arms that somehow got laced with greed. And yet they still idolised me, I was still one of their leaders.

They could do better.

"I don't quite know how to explain it. It's like- have you ever tipped over your bookcase? All the books are still there and they're still in some kind of order but, it's a mess. There are covers everywhere; some are upside down; a few are bent onto one page that you can never undo and one or two, they land so far away that you either forget to put them back in or they get destroyed." I explained softly.