"Take the braid out."
My older sister sat at a quaint vanity in her room with her back turned to me. I stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame as I waited for Annie to finish fixing up her own hair. She was looking at me through the reflection of the vanity mirror, her sea green eyes transfixed on my hair. It fell in a neat braid down my back - small pins with shells glued to them pinning back the shorter parts in the front.
"What?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm and face blank in case she exploded into one of her moods.
"You look too much like her. Take the braid out." She said, her fingers twitching in her lap. When I didn't reply, she picked up a brush and ran it through her brown hair excruciatingly slow.
I knew what she meant. The braid down my back looked too much like Katniss Everdeen's signature hairstyle, which she adorned in both the 74th and 75th Hunger Games. After both her wins, girls everywhere - from the districts to the Capitol - had begun braiding their hair just like hers. Myself included. And maybe it was overkill to braid my hair for the Victory Tour today, the day that I would finally see Katniss in the flesh. Maybe Annie was right.
But I knew that the last thing Annie was worried about was embarrassing myself in front of our latest victor. Katniss Everdeen didn't matter a single bit to Annie Cresta. In fact, Annie probably hated Katniss. Hated her for being alive. Because it meant Finnick wasn't.
I reached up to my hair and slowly ran my fingers through the braid. I repined it so that half of it was up and the other half was down. Like Annie, my hair was the colour of chocolate and fell around my freckled face in soft waves. From behind we looked exactly the same. Despite Annie being 2 years older than me we were the same height. Both of us had the same slight build with large hips. And both of us dressed in the same thin dresses that kept us cool in the warmth of four.
I remember last Tide Day, when Finnick approached me from behind, his hands resting lightly on my hips. With the touch of his lips to my ear, he rested his chin on my shoulder as we stood on the beach with the rest of District 4. On Tide Day, we would watch the tides change on Pinnacle Beach from 12am till 12pm. It was an excuse for celebration. The District elders would weave baskets from the palm leaves that had fallen on the beach and give them to all the newly married couples. Kids would play in the waves as the broke on the beach, as their parents snacked the dried out seaweed that they prepared the week before.
I remember the warmth of his body behind mine. Even though it wasn't meant for me. Annie had stayed at home, confining herself to her bed rather than celebrating Tide Day. Instead of turning around to Finnick and revealing that it wasn't Annie, but Pearl, I stood in the warmth of his arms as we watched a small girl with red hair chase a small school of fish through the water. When I finally did turn around in his arms I instantly regretted it. His green eyes had closed off and gone blank, and he smiled quickly despite himself. He saw blue eyes instead of green, tanned freckled skin instead of pale. I laughed and told him how stupid he was even though the disappointment in the set of his mouth made me want to scream. He apologised and asked where Annie was. I lied and told him she was down the other side of the beach. And off he went, searching for her. Searching for the mad sister, rather than taking the perfectly sane one.
Annie lifted herself up away from her vanity and moved over to her window. From the houses in Victor's Village you could see the main parts of the district. The village was perched on a cliff face, overlooking Pinnacle Beach. A steep path led down to the city square which was slowly accumulating with people for Katniss's victory speech. Annie's eyes darted from person to person, as if she was looking for somebody particular. Her hands were clasped together in front of her, knotting with each other. I reminded myself to go down to the docks later today and find some new rope for her to play with. All the rope we had was frayed and falling apart after months of Annie twisting and tying it every which way.
"Are you ready?" I mumbled to her.
She looked at me slowly, her eyes bloodshot even though she hadn't cried today. They always seemed to be red ever since she got back from her Hunger Games six years ago. Red from the strain of madness.
"Okay" was all she said in reply as she picked up a frayed piece of rope and headed downstairs with me.