The 70th Hunger Games: A Little Love

Chapter Twenty-One

**DISCLAIMER** THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SUICIDAL THOUGHTS. IF THIS MAY TRIGGER YOU, PLEASE BE CAUTIOUS READING. I WILL PUT TRIGGER WARNINGS BEFORE AND AFTER THE PART**

Dear Diary,

I wake up some time later, any remaining indications that I just went over two weeks without showering completely gone. I was no longer cold, I was no longer covered in small cuts and bruises, and I no longer felt a large gash on my forehead. I smelled a lot better, too.

To anyone else, I was relieved of any pain, or any suffering. In reality, my mind continued to swirl with questions, with guilt. How can any victor ever live with themselves?

I sit up slowly, my eyes cautiously looking at the area around me. I was in some sort of hospital room, or something like that, because I had IV wires hooked up to me, and I had a small, plain, fabric gown on instead of my tribute uniform. I lifted my arm slowly, afraid that the wire could be limiting motion. I found instead that I could lift it relatively well. I used it to wipe my eyes, getting rid of any tears that could've dried on my face and created tear streaks.

I took a few deep breaths, surveying the room I was in for any sort of danger, or traps lurking in the shadows. Right. I didn't need to do that any more. I survived. I won. The games are over.

When I heard my stomach grumble loudly, I sighed. Had they even fed me since I made it out of the games? How long had I been asleep? It felt like I've been knocked out for three days, but surely it hadn't been that long. There was still light flooding in from the window, so I'm assuming it was day time.

I carefully took the wires out of my arm and swung my feet over the edge of the bed. A shiver crawled up my spine as the cold tile froze my feet, and my body at the same time. Boy, I didn't miss that.

I walked forward, out of my eerie, makeshift hospital room, and into the main room. I was greeted by Burundi, and the same man who injected me with my tracker before.

"Congratulations Annie!" Burundi ran up to me, embracing me quickly. I stumbled slightly at the onset of the hug, but I was able to regain my balance, my arms going around her back loosely. Congratulations. For what? Surviving? For letting others die so that I could live? That doesn't really seem like something I should be congratulated for. Burundi let go of me, and motioned to a chair for me to sit in. The plump man than began to explain to me what had happened:

"You were crowned the victor of the 70th Hunger Games when Cicero drowned. Since then, we took you into the hovercraft and gave you a mild tranquilizer so you could sleep while we healed you. We're currently landed right now, outside of the tribute center, and we were just waiting on you to wake up. You're gonna go in, and sleep the night. Tomorrow, you have your interview with Caesar and your crowning as victor. Once that's over, we're going to go ahead and send you back home. Does that sound alright Annie?" I nod, and Burundi looks at me quizzically. Although I got to know her before the games, I'm sure that she doesn't quite understand what I went through in there, and how much it took a toll on me.

"Sweetie, if you're worried about anything they're all so proud of you." she puts her hand on my shoulder, continuing her encouraging words "they're so proud to have a victor. And I am too!" I look at her, only managing to pull one half of my lip into a small, quivering smile.

"Yeah, I guess so," I mumble, holding my arms across my chest and pulling them close to me. I guess, more than anything, I was desperately in need of seeing my family. I just needed to hold Alex, and be assured that he was still alive, unlike Percy, who I couldn't save.

"I'm ready to go in," I say a bit louder, looking up at the man who had explained everything to me. "I'm ready, I just need to go to my room," I assert, feeling my lip quivering and my eyes burning threatening to pool over with tears.