Pure Torture: a Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 99

Peeta

"If terror falls upon your bed, and sleep no longer comes, remember all the words I said. Be still, be still and know." -The Fray

I used to think the windows in my  room were blacked out. Now that I'm starting to feel exhaustion set in, I know they're only dark with night. I don't want to sleep at all, for fear there's news about Katniss. They haven't told me much yet, but I know she's alive, at least.

I turn on the lights in the room but keep them dimmed a bit. The stark white hospital lighting is too harsh for me right now. Everything seems too harsh for me right now. I just want to see my wife.

She's alive. She's alive.
The words run through my head, over and over, just to remind me that I didn't kill her.

I feel like I did, though. When I came out of whatever I was in, Haymitch was kneeling over Katniss's body. I saw the deep purple bruises on her neck, the welt rising on her face, and the way she looked like she'd been struggling to breathe, and then I looked down at my hands and arms.

Blazing red scratches, some bleeding, were fresh on my forearms and my hands. A horrifying thought came to my mind. I did this to her...

I hurried over to Haymitch and he gave me a look, telling me to stay back. He hasn't said much to me since then, so I guess you could say I'm in the dark almost totally.

A knock at he door breaks the silence of the room. Momentarily, a woman with olive skin and dark, dark hair walks into the room.
I sit the whole way up as soon as I see her.

"Where is she?" I ask the woman.
"Give me a moment." She requests before grabbing an instrument that she uses to shine light into my eyes, one at a time.
"Perfect." She says, before sitting down.

"Tell me something. Nobody will tell me anything." I beg.
"That's because we couldn't tell you anything without permission and until we had your wife secure." She informs me.
"Permission? Who's permission?"

"Katniss's. But we spoke, well, we didn't really speak, but we communicated and she agreed. We couldn't do anything until just now because she was asleep." She says.
"Tell me something." I say.

"Well, her vocal chords were moderately damaged. That's why we didn't speak. There's some swelling in her neck and slight swelling in her throat, so she has a full neck brace on and isn't allowed to take it off until further notice, when we can check for more severe neck injury. Heavy, heavy bruising to her neck, though. Her face has a welt, but it's only cosmetic and it should go away in a day or two." The woman explains.

"What did I do to her?" I ask, half rhetorically.
"I don't think you need anyone to tell you, Mr. Mellark. I think you know what you did..." She says.
"Yeah."
"But we do know you had no control over it." She reminds me.

"She's never going to forgive me. What if I killed the baby? What if I almost killed her?" I start.
"You're not going to want to hear this, but if Haymitch hadn't pulled you off of her, she would have been dead within minutes." She says.
"You were right about that first part..." I reply.

I almost killed her.

"I've got to go. Tomorrow we'll have someone examine the two of you, get your situation figured out, and then you might be able to see each other. But I'm not making any promises." She says as she gets up.
"She's not going to want to see me," I tell her. "I almost killed her."

"Oh! That reminds me..." She says, rummaging through her pocket. She pulls out a piece of paper, folded up almost perfectly. She hands it to me and starts to walk out.
When she reaches the door, she turns to me and says, "Mr. Mellark, I don't think you quite understand how much she needs you."