Fighter | The Hunger Games

Chapter Twenty-One

It felt as if I was existing in a dream.

I thought that winning the Games would be a victorious moment; one that I would savor forever, one that would promise me eternal glory, but instead I was only met with blackness. There was no celebratory fist pump or eruption of cheers, there was no wide toothy grin or tears of happiness, there was only blackness. And pain. 

I lost consciousness only moments after being announced the victor of the 23rd Hunger Games and could no longer perceive the world around me or the events unfolding within it. There was only me and one continuous slumber.  I could only feel and sense, no longer able to communicate.

I felt myself be lifted into a hovercraft and transported to the Capitol hospital. There was a flurry of activity around me; vague whispers and rushed voices blended together and filled my head with a soft melody. I was sparsely aware of the tools being used to poke and prod my body, attempting to heal some of my wounds and cover my many scars. I tried to string together thoughts, make sense of what was happening, but I inevitably failed. It was much easier to close my eyes and sleep...

Time passed in ways that I could not wrap my head around. I was powerless, forever stuck in a sort of sleep, but it was not restful. My body felt exhausted, my mind muddled. Every once in a while I could feel the nurse messing with the many wires attached to my body. She was not gentle and she never spoke. 

Over time I began to sense the presence of other visitors. One day as I laid in my blank state, eyes closed,  barely conscious, I heard a familiar voice. The words sounded as if they were spoken from a far away land, a place I would never reach, but they were still words. "Poor girl... as beautiful as always..." Only bits and pieces registered with me but I felt my heart jump when I recognized the speaker. Cecelia. She was here.

After that I became increasingly aware of people in my hospital room. It wasn't long until I heard Jace's voice join Cecelia's. "She is strong... she'll be okay..." All I wanted to do was open my eyes and see Jace in person. I needed him to be real, I needed to make sure he was actually here. I needed to look in his eyes and be reminded of everything I fought for. I felt a strong desire in my heart, a longing almost. "Please" I thought to myself "stay." 

Blackness again. I was never aware for too long. Each waking moment was stolen from me as I plummeted back into nothingness. I knew it was the drugs. I knew it was for my own good. But I felt so alone, so empty. I wanted to hear people. I wanted to feel them around me. I wanted to be with them. 

Someone touched my hand and then held it gently. I hoped it was Jace. I knew it was Jace. No one else made me feel the way Jace did. He made me feel alive even in my weakest, darkest moments.

More days passed and then one day I felt my eyes flutter open. I thought it was a dream, an unattainable reality, so I squeezed them shut only to have them open once again. After adjusting to the blinding hospital lights I glanced around. It was just me. No people, no wires, no drugs. It was me.

One by one I moved each finger slowly, staring at my hand as if it was a foreign object. I could move. I could see and I could move. Carefully, I sat myself upright in my bed. My body was sore and weak but it could move. There were no more wires connected to my body. No more machines replacing humans. No more.

I stood. I was going to leave on my own. My legs were slightly shaky, tilting off balance, but they supported me. My arms brushed against my sea foam hospital gown as I walked towards the door. I did not care that I didn't know where I was. I just wanted to find someone, anyone. I needed human connection. The past few weeks were weighing down on me; I felt suffocated. I needed a breath of fresh air.