Katniss Everdeen (
stillplaying) wrote2013-03-11 10:14 am
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12th Game [voice/action]
[There are some nights where she can't sleep. Can't fall asleep to begin with, can't stay asleep once she's there. The nightmares become too intense. She awakes crying, screaming, gasping for breath. Curled up in a ball, clutching her knees to her chest in as tight a fetal position as she can get. And alone. So very, very alone in the dark, dark room.
Those kinds of nights have grown more and more common since Peeta's departure, since her death. Even Buttercup's plaintive mewling in the night hasn't made it any better. The pain and fear doesn't fade. It lasts long, long into the morning on the nights she's unable to go back to sleep. Turns into another fitful nightmare otherwise.
In one short month, there's been a lot to think about. Too much to think about. She's been stuck here a year now. Seen various shifts and experiments. Fallen in love and then lost that love. Died. In the most recent shift, while she hadn't been forced to fall in love against her will, she had watched it happen, even observed it first hand in once case. All of it, more than anything, had made her think of Peeta.
Think and mourn until she thought that she would burst from all the heartache.
During the early morning, she awoke screaming, thrashing in her bed as her nightmares played Prim's death out for her again. Prim's death followed by that of Rue's. And Peeta's electrocution in the clock arena. How she had screamed and rushed forward, how he would have been dead if not for Finnick's quick thinking.
So, so many deaths. And all because of her.
As she moves about in the bed, screaming and crying, she knocks the journal down on the floor. Buttercup mews and she just screams again, a wordless, animal scream. Whimpering and sobbing, she does eventually come to her senses. Her body remains cocooned in the sheets as she reaches for the journal, face tear-stained and lost.
She misses him. Maybe more than that, she misses having someone to comfort her in the night when the memories get to be too much.]
Gale was right. [The words are whispered, an acknowledgment to words long past that she once overheard. It's never going to be about love for her. It'll only be about who will extend her longevity in the end. Who'll make her life easier to bear. And if Peeta's not here, how could it possibly be him?
She stares at the journal a few minutes more before clearing her voice and finally speaking, wiping away any lingering tears.]
I know that when you die here, they'll take things from you. And they'll change things during the shifts. Hijack you and alter your memories.
Can you get them to do that even outside a shift? How would you contact them? I-- I want them gone. The memories of Peeta being here. I don't want to miss him anymore, miss--
[Being in love. Being loved. But she doesn't know how to say that part aloud. She wishes for a brief moment she had kept some of that candy from the spa. The stuff that made her open up more. It'd make this all the more easier.]
Is there a magic? Please? Something, anything? I don't have much to offer, but I am a good hunter. I'll trade game and pelts. Anything you want.
I want to move on. I want to forget. And I don't know how else to do it. [Richard's advice comes to mind. She's already thrown herself in hunting, thrown herself in anything and everything she can think of to distract her. It hasn't worked. Not at all. So that leaves only the other thing he recommended: moving on.] He might never come back. I might never go back. I-- I don't want to be lonely anymore. I want to move on.
[With that, she closes the journal to go get dressed. Her hair is pulled back in a messy braid before she heads out. Not to hunt. Not today. Instead, she goes to the library. She has research to do.]
Those kinds of nights have grown more and more common since Peeta's departure, since her death. Even Buttercup's plaintive mewling in the night hasn't made it any better. The pain and fear doesn't fade. It lasts long, long into the morning on the nights she's unable to go back to sleep. Turns into another fitful nightmare otherwise.
In one short month, there's been a lot to think about. Too much to think about. She's been stuck here a year now. Seen various shifts and experiments. Fallen in love and then lost that love. Died. In the most recent shift, while she hadn't been forced to fall in love against her will, she had watched it happen, even observed it first hand in once case. All of it, more than anything, had made her think of Peeta.
Think and mourn until she thought that she would burst from all the heartache.
During the early morning, she awoke screaming, thrashing in her bed as her nightmares played Prim's death out for her again. Prim's death followed by that of Rue's. And Peeta's electrocution in the clock arena. How she had screamed and rushed forward, how he would have been dead if not for Finnick's quick thinking.
So, so many deaths. And all because of her.
As she moves about in the bed, screaming and crying, she knocks the journal down on the floor. Buttercup mews and she just screams again, a wordless, animal scream. Whimpering and sobbing, she does eventually come to her senses. Her body remains cocooned in the sheets as she reaches for the journal, face tear-stained and lost.
She misses him. Maybe more than that, she misses having someone to comfort her in the night when the memories get to be too much.]
Gale was right. [The words are whispered, an acknowledgment to words long past that she once overheard. It's never going to be about love for her. It'll only be about who will extend her longevity in the end. Who'll make her life easier to bear. And if Peeta's not here, how could it possibly be him?
She stares at the journal a few minutes more before clearing her voice and finally speaking, wiping away any lingering tears.]
I know that when you die here, they'll take things from you. And they'll change things during the shifts. Hijack you and alter your memories.
Can you get them to do that even outside a shift? How would you contact them? I-- I want them gone. The memories of Peeta being here. I don't want to miss him anymore, miss--
[Being in love. Being loved. But she doesn't know how to say that part aloud. She wishes for a brief moment she had kept some of that candy from the spa. The stuff that made her open up more. It'd make this all the more easier.]
Is there a magic? Please? Something, anything? I don't have much to offer, but I am a good hunter. I'll trade game and pelts. Anything you want.
I want to move on. I want to forget. And I don't know how else to do it. [Richard's advice comes to mind. She's already thrown herself in hunting, thrown herself in anything and everything she can think of to distract her. It hasn't worked. Not at all. So that leaves only the other thing he recommended: moving on.] He might never come back. I might never go back. I-- I don't want to be lonely anymore. I want to move on.
[With that, she closes the journal to go get dressed. Her hair is pulled back in a messy braid before she heads out. Not to hunt. Not today. Instead, she goes to the library. She has research to do.]
[Voice]
[It's worrisome to know that things are getting worse for her rather than better. It leaves Oak wondering how she's been dealing with the pain during that time frame and if her actions were constructive rather than destructive. Perhaps if she's willing to tell him, maybe he would be able to help her more. Hopefully she trusts him enough to tell him what he needed to know]
If you don't mind sharing, how are you coping with your loss? Have you confided in someone in the past four months or are you handling this on your own?
[Voice]
The questions also make her shift a little uncomfortably. She knows she hasn't necessarily handled this well. Not when her first reaction had been to kill herself, opting for death by Career.]
Sometimes.
[Voice]
While he won't ask for more information concerning her well-being, he'll at least try to convince her that this isn't the way to go. That no matter how painful it is right now, she will eventually overcome.]
...It's not easy to live your life when someone you love have been taken away from you. You ask yourself, why? What have I done to deserve this? All you have left is their memories and they give you grief instead of joy. And all you want more than anything in the world is for that one to return to your arms again.
[He's not trying to lecture her or anything of the sort, but is trying to show that he can relate to her in some way. By saying he understands how she might be feeling right now could open a doorway for him to come in and give her the relief that she needs]
[Voice]
But she has, at least, come to her senses enough to retreat back into her shell. To be reluctant to talk to those she doesn't already know. Even if they remind her of her former psychiatrist.
The words aren't so surprising. They really are a lot like some of the things Dr. Aurelius would tell her whenever he'd try to bring up Prim. If anything, it's a little too much like the words she heard upon losing her sister. And because of that, her stare switches to something of a glare.]
He's not dead. [Not like Prim is, gone from her forever.] Just gone. Not here anymore. Sent home.
[Voice]
Then you have something to look forward to. You may not know when, but you will see him again, whether in your world or in Luceti.
[If anything, knowing that should bring her hope and some peace of mind. And if it doesn't, then Oak isn't sure if he could help her at all. But he's not going to throw in the towel just yet. It all depends on what she says or do next.]
[Voice]
It hadn't worked. Not even the slightest.
Hope wasn't something she had ever been good at. That optimism that all could be good again, that dandelions would rise every spring. It was a part of the reason Peeta was so important to her. He had that optimism she needed.]
I've been here a year.
[There's doubt in her voice. Doubt that she'll ever get to go back to Panem, to District 12. To Peeta.]
[Voice]
I cannot explain in detail, since the Malnosso may be listening, but trust me when I say that you may see him again.
[Voice]
She scowls, frustration and suspicion clear in her voice.] It's not that easy.
[Voice]
Should they follow in your footsteps and admit defeat at every turn? Or should they keep going?
[Voice]
To be happy, like Richard has said she ought to be.
But these accusations only irritate her.]
I don't know what you're talking about!
[Voice]
...You said it's not that easy, did you not? After I told you that you will see Peeta soon. Now think about it. Can you say those very words to a small group of people who are trying to make that possible?
[Voice]
He'll still be recovering from his hijacking. He might not want to start anything with her, not that Katniss would blame him. No, she wouldn't blame that Peeta at all if he didn't love her.
But she's not going to explain this to the man, a total stranger. She's had enough. She doesn't want to puzzle out these cryptic hints.
Without saying a word, she disconnects the feed.]
[Voice]