For the Hunger Games Fan fiction Competition. Point of View from Peeta after the Quarter Quell.


4. Chapter 4

In the past few days I was hearing one word being repeated: Mockingjay. In my head I knew the Mockingjay was Katniss. She had finally decided to be the Mockingjay. I wasn't sure if I was happy or sad. Of course I didn't mean to hurt Katniss. It was all President Snow’s plan to overthrow the districts and gain control of everything.

I was getting worse. Sometimes I would be unconscious for days. Even if things got better, I had a feeling that the trackerjacker venom would be hard to get rid of.

I was being fed medicine every single day. It made me even more wild and crazy. I lost the concept of day and night. For me, everything was dark and depressing. Sometimes I would grab a syringe, wanting to kill myself. Someone always came once in a while to check on me. Doctors started coming in for daily visits to make sure I was doing fine. President Snow didn't want to kill me. He wanted to torture me enough to make me crazy. 

A lot of people were talking about Katniss. About her decision to be the Mockingjay.

Now I was starting to be crazy from the inside as well. My soul was being devoured by the medicine, that was changing me into something I'm not. The doctors had orders not to make me feel better, but to make sure I was alive. They were giving me more drugs on top of the drugs I already was given. I started throwing up often. The woman came less often now, but still came sometimes to check on me. President Snow came in everyday with the same malicious grin and he always told me to keep it up or something like that. 

The woman came in and dragged me to another room. It was set like a hospital room with a bed in the middle. Next to the bed was a table with syringes and tools for surgery. They were going to do surgery on me. People settled me in the bed and and started preparing me for the surgery. They first gave me a drug that would knock me out  and started preparing themselves. The surgeons were scurrying around getting coats, masks, and gloves. 

Then it was time for the surgery. I was half conscious and could hear muffled voices. Then I heard one word that was crystal clear. Brain chip. They were going to put a bran chip in my head. The head surgeon brought a laser to slice my head. I only felt a slight pinch. Then they took a small metal piece and carefully placed in in my brain. The other surgeons were helping by giving the head surgeon her needed tools. When the surgery was done they stitched my head back together and I slowly became conscious. 

Only one clear thought formed in my mind: The Mockingjay is my enemy. 

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