It's about six in the morning, and I'm resting in a lion's den, waiting for my flesh to be torn.
I've been in here for about a year now. Occasionally they let me leave with only a growl, sometimes it's full-on roars. But I have to leave sometimes, no matter what the risk. I have to take care of Orrin.
Orrin is my son. He means everything to me. Well…almost everything. He is beauty at its highest standard. Eyes the color of the sea, like his father's. He is his father, except smaller and more helpless. Like me. Helpless. But I am no one-year-old boy.
I manage to escape from the lions today. It has taken a while, much longer than it would have been if Finnick were here to help me. Finnick was perfect, not only his body but his soul. And he was the only one that knew me for who I was, not just Annie Cresta the little mad girl, but an actual human being. A human being who can feel pain. And Finnick respected that. I wonder if he felt pain when he died.
Orrin is crying now. I wonder if he's seen something, like I always am. I see the oddest things. Though now I know that much of what I see is not real, some of it always will be.
I follow the wails, listening for hysteria. There is none in Orrin's voice, and I finally reach him after the few wasted seconds of our lives have whizzed by. He calms down when he sees me, and I am on the verge of tears seeing his eyes, his sandy hair so much resembling Finnick's. But I must stop the dam from bursting this time around. I was never a victor then. I am still no victor.
I hold Orrin for a while and sing to him. Finnick said that I could sing, but I don't believe him. If anyone can sing, it's the Mockingjay. She is the one that the birds listen for. They would never do that for me. But Orrin does. He listens and falls asleep, rocking gently to the beat of our hearts. I continue to sing to him, the old song that the Mockingjay taught me.
Deep in the meadow, under the willow
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow
Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes
And when they open, the sun will rise
Here it's safe, and here it's warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you.
Deep in the meadow, hidden far away
A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray
Forget your woes and let your troubles lay
And when again it's morning, they'll wash away
Here it's safe, and here it's warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you.
Here is the place where I love you.
I stand. There is something I must do now. Orrin's eyes. Those eyes enchant me in the most haunting sort of way. And they are, in a way, not his eyes. They are Finnick's. Finnick's and the sea's.
No. No, it can't happen again. But I know that it is when my face goes hot and cold tears exit my eyes. I cannot think of Finnick now. Why did I sing that song? It only reminds me of him more. I wipe my eyes and walk towards the phone, dialing the only number I can remember at the moment.
"Hello?" says the voice on the other end.
"I need help, Elke."
My sister Elke pauses. "Who is this?"
"Me."
"Who are you?"
"Can't you tell?"
Another pause. "Annie, is that you?"
I almost laugh but don't. "Yes."
"Oh." Elke sounds relieved. "I didn't recognize your voice."
"You hear me every day."
"Yeah." She yawns. "Annie, it's really early..."
"I know. Can you baby-sit for me?"
"Um…sure."
"Good. And can you come here?"
"All right. Are you going somewhere?"
"Yes. I'm going to Finnick."
Elke pauses, and when she speaks, I don't listen. She says something, but I don't hear her. Finnick has come to my mind. I see him, walking through the halls, smiling with those ocean eyes, and I reach out…
"Annie! Are you okay?"
Finnick vanishes. Elke's voice sounds so urgent that I must answer.
"Yes."
"But…you're not going to…you can't…please don't kill yourself, Annie!"
I stop. "Sorry. I'm not killing myself," I say, though I'm not so sure.
"Oh." More relief. "Good. I'll be right over."
"Thanks." I put the phone back into the wall.
When Elke arrives I've been through a thousand things at once. I was in an ocean the color of Finnick's eyes, and it smelled strongly of alcohol. Then it dried, and I am surrounded by dams, blocking me in, and then red seas of blood cascade over. I am nearly dead when the seas disappear, and I am back in the lion's den, hearing the world taunt me.
Elke sits with Orrin, and I run. I leave the house, my feet barely touching the ground, and all strangers who I find awake in the crimson sunlight watch me. I think what they may have to take from me, and run faster. I don't want to end up like Khalil did, all those years ago…
I stop. I cannot think of Khalil, and his final moments, the ones where he had his head on. I still miss him, though I am now much older than I was then. He had only been sixteen, I just seventeen. Why must this world be so cruel to me? First Khalil, then Finnick, and soon enough it will be Orrin.
I run again with inhuman speed, not stopping until I have reached the sandy white beach that I discovered as a child. It is one of the few bits of District 4's beaches that was not destroyed by the war. I run down the slope of the sandy part, and plunge into the soft caress of the water.
I smile. It's like pure Finnick down here. The water cascades around me, my tangled, dark hair flowing noiselessly. I can see small fish, weaving themselves in and out of sea plants in miniscule races. I lightly touch one, and it wriggles in my fingers before I let it go. I can remember first meeting Finnick here, when he'd followed me into the secret oasis and I'd splashed him playfully. We'd gotten into a minor splash-fight then, and we'd introduced ourselves. How happy I'd been then! How safe!
Then came the reaping day, and I watched as Finnick was dragged away from me…
And I remember my screams of horror as my mother pulled me back…
And I wondered if I would ever see him again…
But I did. He came back, but he was different and refused to talk about the arena. His voice changed too, and two years later when we were both sixteen he changed dramatically. He was around me all the time, not wanting to go home. We were in this faux paradise, chasing each other and laying under the trees. But for a full year, when he would see me each day, he seemed even more scared. This would be his first year as a mentor in the Games.
Then I was reaped the day after I turned seventeen.
I have to admit, I was scared. Khalil was reaped, too. But all I cared about was Finnick. Would he be okay now that I had been sentenced to death?
Then came our first day on the train.
Alone in my room.
Hearing doves cry and the rivers rush from my unsteady eyes.
Finnick came.
I felt his hands.
Then his arms.
Then his lips.
I knew he loved me then.
Then came the arena.
Dark. Cold. Fear. Blood. Anger. Friendship. Broken. Fire.
Death.
I snap myself into the present. My lungs are screaming for air, and I resurface. It is mere moments before I go down again, feeling the essence of Finnick wrap himself around me. I surface again. Why? Why must he be gone? Why? Why? WHY?
I hear a scream and cover my ears. I try to run but it won't go away. It persists and persists until I realize that the one screaming is me.
And here I am, alone in a thicket of trees surrounding a hidden beach, and I turn and see the water that I swim in. It is no longer teal, but red as blood. I scream and exit, sharp pains entering my body at all angles, collapsing on the sand…
And then my pain subsides, and I turn. The water is back to its normal color. There is no blood. The massacre never happened.
I look to the sky. Has Finnick saved me? Was it he that took the blood and extracted it from the water, making my world livable again? He, in this unknown world of the dead, is still here?
Then I realize it.
He's not dead.
He never was.
Finnick couldn't be dead. He was not a dead man, but a fisherman, a fighter, a man who could use a trident, a lover, a living soul. He may not be here anymore, as Finnick, but somewhere he is starting a new life. Perhaps he is Orrin, at home, asleep with Elke watching him and never letting him fall. He is still here. Warmth floods me. He has never left. He loved life too much. And he knew how much I loved him.
I stand and leave my oasis. The war is over. The lions await me. Freedom has come.