Vipers & Virtues ⚕ ׂLucy Gray Baird

Chapter Five

The ache in my arm is persistent, but the bullet has been removed and stitches set in place. There was no infection, so it made for an easy, but equally painful, operation. I'm thankful I had all of last night to rest. I don't think my arm could've made it. I almost passed out in the hospital as it was.

I can already sense Sam's agitation as I wake up. In thirteen, everyone rises early, but my operation the yesterday and overall exhaustion from my journey caught up with me, causing me to oversleep. He is stationed outside the room I've been assigned, and I swear I can hear him impatiently tapping his foot outside my door. Who knew, assholery starts at the crack of dawn.

I huff, knowing it's going to be a long day. The lack of noise outside my room tells me it's already past the normal waking hour, so I've probably missed breakfast. District 13 runs on frugality, so I've got no snacks in my room. Maybe Sam will be nice enough to slip me a slice of toast... unlikely. I stretch my limbs before sliding my legs over the bed, rubbing sleep out of my eyes. It felt nice to sleep in a bed after so long. In fact, this bed may have been the most comfortable one I've ever slept in. The sheets crinkle as I move them, and I notice everything here seems gray. The uniforms, gray. Sheets, gray. Walls, gray. Nothing here is colorful. My rainbow dress would stand out viciously here. It does seem like my true name follows me wherever I go. In District 12, the Covey reminded me of our namesake. Here, my name reflects the drabness of it all. I can't blame them, though. Everything underground is dark, and the loss of a district is a bit morbid. Almost as morbid as the Games that laid in their wake.

If thirteen were involved in the Games, they'd definitely be among the strongest, like District 1, District 2, and District 4. Before the war, they specialized in graphite, but there's rumor that they dealt with nuclear powers, and that's why the Capitol obliterated them. Or, as I know, signed a peace treaty with them. Based on the military force I've seen, that part is true. I've noticed everyone has a strong build, regardless of their weight. They all must go through extensive training in school before being assigned their jobs.

The tile is cool as my bare feet meet it, and I'm quick to slip on my uniform, the same from yesterday, and the boots they provided me with, lacing them up and running my fingers through my hair, detangling it from my sleep. I then tie it up in a bun, a few curls surrounding my face, as they're too short to stay in the thick rubber band that holds the majority of my hair. There are no mirrors here, so I trust my instincts and assume my hair looks fine, not that it matters. Here, looks don't mean anything. I feel the only place where you're judged for your beauty is the Capitol, and Coriolanus must've dug that in my soul. I always wanted to look perfect around him.

The doors to the bedrooms are the only ones with handles, which I guess gives you more privacy. I hesitantly open mine, the cool air of the hallway hitting me as I walk out. As I suspected, Sam is outside my room, arms crossed and agitated already. We meet eyes, and I quickly break our gaze. It's best I don't egg him on. I'm stuck with him for however long, and I'd rather it not be entirely miserable. The hallway is empty, and Sam stays silent, motioning for me to follow him. We arrive at the elevator I've rode only once, to get to my room. We step in it, and a holographic menu pops up. Sam presses a few buttons before solidifying our destination, and we're moving. Through the glass door, we can see every level as we descend. Sam remains entirely silent, not looking at me. He must be angrier than I thought. I wonder what he's missing that is so important that it causes him to brood at me all morning. Probably another training session with Philip, who I like. He's somewhat immature, but from the conversation we had, he's easygoing and not terrible to be around. A polar opposite to Sam. The elevator stops with a jolt, causing me to stumble. The doors creak open and we walk forward, a blank hallway in front of us. Sam diverts to the right, and I follow him, trying to match his quick pace. We can't stay silent forever, and if I can get friendly with him, maybe he'll lighten up by mid-day. I ask, "Where are we going?"