"I fancied you'd return the way you said…I think I made you up inside my head."
~Mad Girl's Love Song by Sylvia Plath
The doctor in front of me is holding a clipboard and trying to talk to me about my "condition," asking me questions and expecting answers. I shiver, pulling the thin sheet tight around my shoulders and staring at my freezing feet.
The doctor's voice is droning on in the background and I often hear my name, uttered anxiously, as if I can be called back from the horrors replaying in my mind. It's a futile effort really. Even now I can see Johanna's face, twisted in pain, her voice screaming for mercy. Peeta is there too, crying out that he doesn't know anything, the cuts on his face bleeding as he pleads. Images of decapitated heads and endless torrents of unforgiving water intermix with these new terrors. There is no reprieve.
I throw my hands over my ears as the screams get louder, and a wave of blood sweeps over me, pulling me under. I hit the hard tile floor, curling up into a ball and whimpering, shouting out for it to stop, for everything to go away. This happens so many times I figure I'd get used to it, but the terrors always seem fresh and worse than ever.
Eventually it ends and I look up to see the doctor's face, concerned and slightly aghast, peering down at me. Anyone who experiences my breakdowns is a little shocked. They all know I'm "unstable" but few people have seen me at my worst. I take the hand that is gingerly offered to me and stand up, looking at the doctor expectantly.
"Well, Annie," he says nervously, "It appears you have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I'm going to request some medication from the paramedics…"
I can tell he is speaking but I can't process what he's saying so I don't say anything, I just stand and stare at him, focusing on the way his face crinkles up as he speaks. Every noise becomes a hollow echo that reverberates in my ears. I feel like I might explode and decide I need to lie down.
Just as I am turning my back to the doctor, I hear a voice that I never expected to hear again. Finnick. At first I'm sure my ears are playing some kind of sick joke on me, so I turn towards the noise.
Sure enough, there's a man that looks just like Finnick, down to the rope clenched tightly in his hands. He's tying a knot and talking to a weary-looking girl with dark hair. But surely it can't be him, not here. I was sure he was gone forever, the Capitol told me that. I've been known to hallucinate, so it wouldn't be surprising if this is just a trick my mind is playing on me, something to make the pain worse.
But all my doubts are cleared away when just a hint of a smile plays on the man's lips. Nobody else could smile like that, not even a mirage of Finnick. Only the real Finnick O'dair could smile in a way that makes me melt completely, that wipes away all my fear and pain. Before I can stop myself I shout out, "Finnick?"
He turns towards me, those sea green eyes wide with surprise. I say his name again with more confidence. "Finnick!" I'm running now, my bare feet slapping against the tile floor, the sheet around my shoulders whipping around me like a cape. He's running, too, shouting my name and reaching out for me.
I'm sure that I'm going to trip on my sheet and ruin the reunion when he catches me in his arms and spins me around, hugging me tightly. "Annie," he whispers, his face centimeters from mine, his fingers stroking my hair, holding it carefully in his fingers like he can't believe I'm here. I wrap my arms tightly around his waist, burying my face into his chest and inhaling the sweet scent of him.
I look up to see him smiling, the biggest and happiest smile I've ever seen on anybody. He spins me around again, and we are colliding like the waves of the ocean, crashing together in a cloud of happiness and pure joy.
"I love you," I whisper, because its all there is to say. He looks down into my eyes, which threaten to brim over with tears.
"I thought I'd never see you again," he murmurs, his voice breaking. Then he pulls me tight to him and kisses me right there, the wall of the hospital ward hard against my back. Our tears mingle, and I can taste the saltiness in my mouth. Finnick is here, finally, and I will never, ever let him go again.