I feel like I'm swimming in a pool of black ink. I see myself, and I can control my movements, but only with the imaginable me, in the blackness. I haven't heard anything, and I know something has to be happening, my senses just faintly come and go. I know there are people around me, of course they are. With a family as big and loving as mine, at least one of them has to be in the same room as me, right?
I want to open my eyes, embrace anyone in my sight, but I'm scared to at the same time. I know that the capitol thinks I'm dead, who would've told them? I slowly become fond of the idea of them never tearing apart that wooden box. If I would've stayed, I would have died, and life for them could go on normally. Now, my parents are stuck with a kid that might never open her eyes, and the rest of the crap they put up with from my family. I mentally tell the self in front of me to move my left hand, and slap myself. I feel it, like I'm one of those dolls. I know I can't be moving in real life, but it makes my mental self feel worse instead of better. One of my relatives must have torn that box in all their grief, and they discovered my slightly breathing body. They couldn't take me to a hospital, because first of all there is no real good ones around here, and people need to think I'm dead for now.
My bed was the last thing I ever so slightly felt. All I really recognized was the way my body feels when I lay upon it, so I know I'm home. The problem is, I don't feel that anymore. I feel my stiff back, hunched shoulders. I'm not on a bed at all, a floor, cold and hard. Someone took me here in quiet a hurry, feeling the swaying that meant I was being carried. Them a bouncing played in the movement, downwards. Down the stairs. Someone quickly, as fast as they could manage at least, took me downstairs. A lot of hustling around my body vibrated the floor.
Downstairs, hard floor, no bed, lots of commotion. I'm in the bunkers. No, no no no no no no no no no no. This cannot already be happening. They've come for my family, in only a day. It could either be the Capitol, or the Chess pieces. Either way, I know what has to happen. I have to die and save them a burden, or I have to wake up. I give myself a day. If I can't break out of this in a day, I will give into it, and find a way to die. I have a 90% Chance of surviving if I wake up anyway, so what's the point really? Only to protect my family. If I die, the Capitol and Chess pieces will torture and kill them. If I wake up, then I can die in their place. Isn't that why I signed up for the Hunger Games anyway?