I will rise up early and dress myself up nice
And I will leave the house and check the deadlock twice.
She almost couldn't force herself to get up most mornings; her life was almost a series of commands.
Okay Annie, you have to wake up now. Okay Annie, you need to eat something, for the baby. Okay Annie you can cry now. Okay Annie, you need to go outside so they won't worry about you. You have to get dressed. You can't wear your pajamas outside. I don't care how comfortable they are.
And I will find a crowd and blend in for a minute
And I will try to find a little comfort in it.
She would go outside and disappear in the crowd of the busy citizens of district thirteen. She knew that they cared about her, and that they worried for her sake, but she couldn't handle the looks that they would give her most days, and on the few other days it would only make her want to cry harder.
And I will get lonely and gasp for air.
And send your name up from my lips like a signal flare.
She would sometimes get brushed past, or the air would hit her just right, knocking her hand. She would realize that her hand is empty and alone, and breathe in sharply as the realization that he was never to come back dawned on her all over again.
"Finnick," she would mumble, resisting the urge to cover her ears like she used to, because even that reminded her of him.
And I will go downtown, stand in the shadows of the buildings
and button up my coat, trying to stay strong, spirit willing.
She would force herself to stay outside, not to retreat to their little room. She would look around, trying to become useful somehow, the air chilly and harsh around her. She would pull her jacket more tightly around her, the tears beginning to stream down her face even though she didn't want them to.
And I will come back home, maybe call some friends,
Haymitch and Johanna helped sometimes, but it was like the random kind citizens of thirteen, sometimes their reassurances that they knew what she was talking about made her feel worse, she knew that they knew what she meant, but she would always think that there was no way they would know how it felt to be left so completely alone.
Maybe paint some pictures,
It all depends.
She would try to paint him; try to capture the face she knew so well before it slipped away. She knows that faces are easy to forget. She can barely remember the boy from her district in her games, or Mags. She'll start to try to paint him, but if she made the wrong brushstroke she would hold her head and cry for fear of forgetting him. She knew when she was strong enough to even try to paint, and that was very rare.
And I will get lonely and gasp for air.
And look up at the high windows, and see your face up there.
Some days when she was crying even harder than usual, she would look up at the windows across from her room; her room was a newer one, thankfully above ground. She was one of the first to be relocated because she couldn't stand being in the room they had shared so soon afterwards. She would look into the windows of the empty rooms across the gap from her and let out another gasp as she saw what she could have sworn was the face of her husband. Every time she would see it she would stop crying, it would remind her that she had to stay strong, even if not for herself. She had to stay strong for Finnick, for his child. For the future, and the hope she rarely let herself hope that maybe it would better.
