Twisted Perfection ~ Everlark

Facing reality.

Katniss' PoV:
As hard as it is to try and not hold my breath, I know deep down I have to hold reason to. It's safe to say I feel as if my life is drowning. As if trying to keep my head above water when the tide is still only shallow is a real burden not only on myself, but everyone else.

Swallowing hard, I clutch furiously at my chest, hoping that by a scratch or simple graze, my heart will stop racing, and my body just might entirely shut down – causing me clarity.

The fluorescent numbers of the alarm clock beside a bedside table tease me with the time of 11am and I harshly rub at my eyes with red raw palms. Then it hits me, that I'm in a hospital. I see an IV plugged into my arm.

Then, yawning only gently as to then find a painful and raw feeling engraved inside my neck. It's like my throat is on fire and the embers of the fire are travelling slowly south towards my chest, frazzling my lungs.

"Hey sweetheart." A familiar voice says. I look beside me to find Haymitch sat next to me. His eyes look sunken and irritated by the light that shines upon us both.

I remember what happened to me.

I try to say 'Peeta' but my throat blocks off any sound. It becomes a strayed letter and then nothing.

"Peeta's ok. Try not to talk. Your throat is as bad as last time." He says.

I sigh at the sight of Haymitch. Drunk idiot. A tear escapes my eye.

"He's in a room by himself down by the psychology wing. Doctors are...working on it. Let's just say that." He says.

Of course Peeta still has his relapse moments when he would shake every time the door closed or become scared around loud noises, but nothing like this.

"Obviously you can't talk and don't try to sweetheart. So, if you want to talk, it'll have to be by pen and paper. Here you go."

When he hands me the notebook and pen, his hands shake. He's probably not had a drink for (at the most) 9 hours and he's already this bad. Withdrawn symptoms, I think to myself.

I start to write on the paper.

I don't recognise you sober.

He laughs.
"It won't last long sweetheart."

Try. For me. For Peeta.

He sighs and his head faces the floor. A look of defeat washes over his pale face.

"Only if you try. Try to be happier. I know it's easier said than done and trust me, I know what I'm on about. But Katniss, you wouldn't be betraying Prim to be happy every now and again. She'd hate to see you like this."

A tear rolls down from my cheek. He's right. It wouldn't be betraying her.
The reality is that I will grieve forever. I will not get over the loss of Prim; I will learn to live with it. I will heal and rebuild myself around the loss I have suffered. I will be hole again, but I will never be the same. Nor should I be the same. Nor should I want to.

Ok. Deal?

He shakes his head.

Is Peeta conscious? How did I end up in the hospital?

"He's conscious. He's been asking after you as well, but even the doctors are too afraid to go near him. Last time I went to see him, he was his normal self or as normal as he could be. Mainly confused." He stops talking for a moment.

"You got here because a few seconds prior to you passing out after he tried to kill you, he must have snapped out of it. He came running to my door and I carried you here, to the district 12 hospital. He didn't even want to touch you, he was so scared. He thought you were dead. They tore you off of me. I explained what happened and they immediately directed Peeta to his on isolated room I guess." He says.

I just stare at the window infront of me, shocked. I wasn't shocked by the strangulation part, but the fact that he snapped out of a flashback that huge was so weird.

Before I ask anything more, a doctor comes through into my room. She wears a white hospital coat with a stethoscope around her neck.

She smiles at me as she comes through and stands by the bed. I don't return the smile. I just stare at her in an ill-mannered attitude. An attitude that Effie wouldn't agree with.

"Hello Katniss. I'm Doctor Cain. I'm sure Mr Abernathy here, has told you what happened, as I'm sure you can remember.
I'm here to update you on the current situation, but before I do, I need to ask you a few questions. Just blink though, don't try to speak." She instructs me. I do as she says.

"Are you in pain at all?"
I blink.
"Is it around your neck and chest?"
I blink.
"Ok, would you like more frequent doses of morphing?"
I blink.
"Ok, we can get that sorted out in a minute or so. Are you experiencing any headaches, migraines?"
I blink.
"Any nausea?"
I blink.
"Dizziness?"
I rock my hand either side to indicate that the room feels like it's slightly heavy but I don't feel like I'm going to pass out.
"Well, it's normal for you to be experiencing all these painful symptoms. But with mute rest and recuperation, you'll be ok." She says. I don't care about how I feel, I just want to know what is going on with Peeta.

"Right, now that that is sorted, here is what we know." She pauses for a moment and begins to speak again.

I feel my nerves pulsating with sweat. Without conscience, I grab Haymitch's hand. I need something to hold onto.

"In your brain, when you sense danger is present, your amygdala, where your emotions are, want to automatically activate the fight-or-flight response immediately. However, at the same time, your frontal lobes, where the decision making happens in your brain, they are processing the information to determine if danger really is present and the most logical response to it."

"The doctors in District 12 think the liquid that Peeta was hijacked with, damaged that double response and so therefore, he can sense danger but can't determine if it's really there or not and can't find a logical response to it. When he attacked you this second time, the sense of danger he was feeling was so catastrophic to any other, that he didn't know what the right way to respond was. So, he did what he thought was right."

"Is there a chance he can recover or find a medication for it? We don't know."

"And that's why we've decided to send him to a place where these questions can be answered with more professional and accurate results."

"We're going to send Peeta back to the Capitol."