Finnick's face appeared, swirling in the mist for a glorious second before disappearing. One lone, single cry echoed, muffled by the grey fog, but still heard easily.
"Annie!" The voice cried, screamed. "Annie!"
I start to run, right through the mist, my hair and dress catching on unseen tree branches and prickles, Finnick's voice fading away. One last cry of my name sounds, and then it stops. Dead silence. And then I see it. Red, red, everywhere. Blood flowing and pooling at my feet, the scent of roses suffocating me.
And that's when I wake up.
It has been 4 months, 3 weeks, and 12 days since Finnick died. I have kept on living just fine, physically. But inside I am dying, the pain of knowing I'll never see him again tugging on my every corner.
People always comment on how put-together I am, how composed and calm. But they don't know what it's like to lose someone.
A lot has happened since that day. Katniss is now locked in some sort of mental hospital, although I hear she will be given the privilege of killing snow. Prim is dead, Gale is gone, and, well, my world is just not meant to be enjoyed.
So that's why I've decided to leave District 11. I won't return to my District, however. I am going to 12, to find a home and a place where I can find happiness again. And if I can't find that in even the farthest reaches of Panem, then I won't have a will to live. And a human needs a will to fight.
The thought of running away first occurred to me at breakfast with Katniss's mother. I was over for breakfast, and of course I had my barrier up, my emotionless shell as my armour around me as soon as I walked into her apartment.
Rose (Katniss's mother) is a mess. Her husband is dead, her home was destroyed, her youngest daughter is dead, her oldest in a mental asylum. But she, unlike me, has been working on her attitude, and already I see the changes, I see a happy face once again.
She greeted me with such a big smile that it made my heart melt. But it quickly disappeared when someone knocked sharply on the still-open door of her apartment. I quickly jumped to the side, realizing I had been blocking the entrance.
A man stood there, a mockingjay pin safely pinned to his chest, polished as much as possible. I recognized the man by the name of Arnold Collins, an official who somehow always had a smile on his face. But it wasn't present that day.
"Annie," he acknowledged me, " I hope you're well."
I nodded tentatively.
"Rose, there's a problem. One of your patients who was in the infirmary over night has disappeared. We've figured out that he somehow escaped during the dark hours, and is home free by now.
Did I mention this place is a prison?
Ok, it isn't. For most people, at least. But to people like me, who will happily throw safety away just to feel the sun on my face, the grass on my toes, it is a living hell.
First of all, they won't let us out. For most, this is fine. Who would want to venture out into a world of angry rebels, mutts, and all sorts of diseases?
I would.
" A Mr..." Arnold checked his clipboard, "Ryan James has gone missing. The guards were knocked out cold, and somehow most of the doors were programmed to unlock. We think that Beetee may have had something to do woth this, as the head of the tech department, but we brought him in for questioning and there was no problems."
And then it hit me. I had seen those meeting s between Ryan and Beetee. They were always huddled in the cafeteria, papers spread out before them like a maze of opportunities. And that's when I decided to escape. You see, I need fresh air. I need the sun.
I need, and I want, a healthy life for my baby.