It was when I was fourteen years old. Growing up in District Four meant beautiful sunrises, like pear pink painted across a palette already beautified by colors of deep purple and orange, blue. I had come out to view it, and nobody in my family was awake yet.
That morning, the only people out were out by the harbor, far from where I was. I could see them in the distance, the fishermen with their nets and rusted Capitol equipment. One day, I knew that I would be out there with my father, fishing and serving the Capitol. It was my mother's birthday. At first, I wanted to wake up early (I did that) and cook a nice meal. But my little brother was doing that. He still had an hour or so before he needed to get up.
So, I decided to find her a nice shell or a pearl or something. I walked on the feather soft sand, inhaling the salty smell of the beach. It was humid, with a slight breeze. All I was wearing was a thin, white tank top and my favorite jean shorts. Later, I would change into the pink shirt I bought yesterday, with the flowers.
A half-an-hour or so later, I had gathered three shells that I thought would pass the test of perfectness. I let them all go, eventually, because I knew I could find better ones later on in the morning. The waves looked so comforting, so warm, so I just ran up and dived in the water.
Oh, it did feel good. Not warm, but not horribly biting cold. I swam around for a while, looking for cool shells. The sea life was blooming, and I was sure every one of them was smiling back at me.
I had come up for air when I heard it. In the distance, somebody was screaming and falling. Splash! The person fell into the water and the boat zoomed off. The person in the water flailed, unable to swim. I dived in, rushing to them, my heart pounding.
Were they dead? How could they not swim? This was District Four! For Pete's sake! I swam faster advancing so I could view them. Now, they were sinking to the ground slowly, as if moving through mud. I came up for air, and went down again.
The pressure down so deep made my ears ring. And that's when I saw him.
I couldn't believe my eyes. It was Finnick Odair! Was it? I swam closer, and then recoiled. The closeness of his face was overwhelming. The reality of it was just… oh dear. I had just seen him on the TV last week. He had won the Hunger Games that year, and he was drowning. He didn't know swimming!
His face was turning milk-white. His crown of beach blond hair floated around him, shielding his heavy-lidded eyes. I swam up to him, grabbed his hard bicep, and pulled. I pulled harder, starting to run out of air. Oh no… I pulled harder, not grunting and squealing into the water. My lungs thirsted for air.
Come on! I'm going to die! On my Mother's birthday!
Rooghf. I kicked off with all my might, adrenaline pumping me to go on, and surfaced. His head lolled to the side, and his lips parted ever so slightly. All in all, he was absolutely breathtaking.
I gulped in the air, coughing throaty coughs. I breathed in deeply and searched for the air, feeling reassurance. Thank you, Finnick Odair. And then I realized who I was holding. Panic crawled through me. What if he was mean and cruel and unkind? I bit my lip, and swam back to the shore.
I had no words for him. He was breathing very slightly, so he was alive. Huh, the thought of me holding the dead Finnick Odair. This star would think of me as a little girl from his hometown who could swim well. Maybe he would thank me and offer me some treats or something. I stayed, hoping he would.
While he was passed out, I looked for shells nearby. I found one with a coarse outside and beautiful deep blue inside and kept it. I examined it as he stirred. Throwing it nearby me leaned over him. He smelled like nice cloth. I noticed he wore long shorts and a long sleeved satin bright blue shirt.
His eyes blinked a few times and fluttered open. My heart thumped loudly. I felt as if I was meeting a huge celebrity, and he was. He was so handsome… I felt silly for thinking such of an older boy. I was anxious, yet so nervous.
He was a huge star, he won the Hunger Games. And I was just a girl from his town… He didn't even know me before he went into the Games. And he was so violent. What happened if his anger was that brutal as well? My fingers started to shake.
"W-What?" he asked. I smiled softly, like I saw my mother do when my brother Ed, (Edlen) was hurt.
"You drowned," I felt these words weren't very annoying or dorky. I made myself sophisticated, like older. I smiled bigger. He looked around, and then his eyes met my face. They were remarkably sea blue. I was just swimming in his eyes. They were like sea foam, so magical and fixating.
I shook my head and pushed his hair aside. He stared up at me, frozen and curious.
"My name is Annie. You're okay now. I'll leave… okay? You'll feel better." His eyes were almost shutting as I stood up and left, not turning back. He would feel better. He was a Capitol person, now. And Capitol people always would feel good. No matter what.
I forgot the shell at the beach, and I didn't want to go back and get it. So, I walked in empty handed and plucked a rose from our garden. I took a piece of paper and painted it pink and then wrote some nice words on it. I tried hard to forget Finnick Odair. He was nothing more than a Capitol boy.
And that was all he was ever going to be.
Until now…