I haven't written a story like this before. If you can't tell, this is Annie after someone tells her Finnick is dead.

I only just finished Mockingjay and Finnick was my favorite character. So now I'm sad.

If you read please please review because I'd really love feedback.

It's a bit short but I really wanted to write this.

Disclaimer: Not mine, Suzanne Collinses.

'They've come home!' A woman shouts as she tumbles out of the lift of District 13.

I look up from my twiddling thumbs, Finnick is home.

I rush ahead of the other women and children, eager to see him and will the lift to go faster. I reach the outside world and blink to adjust my eyes to the sunlight. I can hear aircrafts whirring to a stop and soldiers greeting loved ones, my heart pounds in anticipation.

'Finnick?' I call, 'Finnick?' A man takes a hold of my shoulder and says, 'Are you Annie?'

'Yes.' I say, 'Annie.'

'Can we go somewhere private?'

'Sorry sir,' I say, 'I'm waiting for Finnick.'

He looks troubled, 'It's about Finnick.' He tells me, softly.

I peer over his head to see if Finnick is waiting behind the man, grinning, spreading his arms out wide for me to snuggle into.

He isn't.

I nod to the man, having had one last check for him and lead him to our quarters and sit on the bed, impatient.

I hadn't noticed that he was holding a small object in his hand. He gives it to me. It's a triangular piece of metal. 'What's this?' I ask him.

'It's from Finnicks trident.'

'Where is he?' I say, my voice constricting.

'You should know,' he starts, but I know what's happening, I want to stem the flow of words from his mouth and put my hands over my ears.

'Finnick died a hero.'

No. No. No. No.

Someone has began to squeeze my heart, my stomach feels tingly and everything in the world is wrong.

I shut my eyes, holding on to the trident spear for dear life.

My anchor. My heart. My world. Dead. Gone. I wail, but no tears come to my eyes. Instead, my sobs are dry. I scream into my pillow and wait for Finnick to come, with his arms around me tightly. Instead I hear his dying scream in my head and press my hands over my ears, screaming with him.

Nothing.