So I was watching Catching Fire last night, and I know we all want more of the Games. No matter how sick, and cruel, we want to read the action. So I had an idea, my favorite characters (Most likely) would have to be Finnick and Annie. When he heard her screaming from the birds, I was like, what if Annie had been in the Quarter Quell instead of Mags?
I watched as the old woman made her way up to the stage. This was wrong and I know it, she had no chance of survival. Finnick loved her as a mother, she couldn't die. My breath quickened at what I was about to do, and I could stop.
"I volunteer." I said quietly in a wisp of breath.
I dare not look over at Finnick, he's not going to be happy. But instead I look at Mags, and it doesn't help. Her face is confused, a tear rolling down it at what I just done. As I walk up to take her place on the stage, I say nothing. I look at no one. Just over the heads of the people of my District, who I am sure are staring at me.
They don't even let us in to say goodbye. They just usher us into the train. I look back to the crowd before we leave, and all I see is a single person. Someone I don't know personally, and a tear dropping silently from his face.
We walk into the train, and I sit down on a chair. I do not look into any faces, but stare at the ground. They can't change what I've done, it's already happened.
"Annie." Finnick walks over to me. I refuse to look up.
"Yes?" I ask the ground.
"Why did you do that?" He kneels down so he's eye level with me.
His voice is anything but mad. He sometimes talks to me like this, like I'm a child. He does it for a reason though, sometimes I see thing, and my brain doesn't work right. I think of something and spit it out of my mouth without even thinking of what I'm saying. He talking to me like I'm a child now, he's not mad.
"I couldn't let her die. Finnick, you know she wouldn't make it." I whisper for only him to hear.
"I would have helped her Annie." He's whispering too.
"Finnick..." I sighed.
"Annie..." He sighed back.