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[When the lights power down, a film replays in her mind. Over and over again, stuck in a horrifying loop she's helpless to stop.
It begins with an image behind a wall of glass. A Peeta who isn't Peeta. Even from a distance, she knows everything is wrong. Though similar in appearance, nothing remains the same. His eyes are dark, completely devoid of anything she associates with them. His face contorted into something wholly foreign. It's enough to make breath catch in her lungs, a lead weight to drop to her stomach, a chill to run down her spine.
But the words are the worst, the words that aren't his own. That can't be his own, for the sake of any kind of fractured grip on reality she makes one last desperate attempt to cling to. A grip that slips even further from her the more his voice, his but not his, echoes in her thoughts.
"A mutt! She's a stinking mutt!"
By her request, they're sending her to Two tomorrow, but that knowledge isn't enough to bring her any kind of relief tonight. This tiny compartment has never felt more stifling and claustrophobic.
Yet she has nowhere to go.
She knows she shouldn't; if Prim is asleep, she doesn't want to disturb her. But she just can't spend another minute alone with her thoughts. Another minute, and they might very well consume her.
So she chances a whisper into the darkness.]
Prim?
It begins with an image behind a wall of glass. A Peeta who isn't Peeta. Even from a distance, she knows everything is wrong. Though similar in appearance, nothing remains the same. His eyes are dark, completely devoid of anything she associates with them. His face contorted into something wholly foreign. It's enough to make breath catch in her lungs, a lead weight to drop to her stomach, a chill to run down her spine.
But the words are the worst, the words that aren't his own. That can't be his own, for the sake of any kind of fractured grip on reality she makes one last desperate attempt to cling to. A grip that slips even further from her the more his voice, his but not his, echoes in her thoughts.
"A mutt! She's a stinking mutt!"
By her request, they're sending her to Two tomorrow, but that knowledge isn't enough to bring her any kind of relief tonight. This tiny compartment has never felt more stifling and claustrophobic.
Yet she has nowhere to go.
She knows she shouldn't; if Prim is asleep, she doesn't want to disturb her. But she just can't spend another minute alone with her thoughts. Another minute, and they might very well consume her.
So she chances a whisper into the darkness.]
Prim?