This story is a prequel, of sorts, to my story Annie and the Shark: The 70th Hunger Games, but this story can work independently (as it was actually written before the previously mentioned story). I hope you all enjoy it! It's quite a short story that will be updated every few chapters of Annie and the Shark.
Prologue: The Reapings
Finnick
The reapings have always been unbearable. It hurt knowing that I would have the opportunity to get to know two kids and know that, if fate were on my side, one would have the fortune, as well as misfortune, to make it out alive. It has been unbearable since before I was reaped myself, yet I find myself growing more and more anxious each year. I hope that after this year the impossibly fast beating of my heart slows down. I won't have anyone I worry about in particular. I wouldn't have to worry about Annie being reaped after next year.
That's next year, though. There's still this year to worry about. The head Gamemaker this year has promised an unforgettable game. I believe it. The man is retiring after this year. He has been heading the Hunger Games since the last Quarter Quell. He wouldn't want to go out disappointing the sadist freaks of the Capitol. No, he'd want to go out a hero, relishing in the glory of leading twenty of the most memorable games in Hunger Games history. He wants to be known for the deaths of four hundred and sixty children. Four hundred and sixty. I swallow, remembering that even though he may have dammed those four hundred and sixty, they were still killed by the victors. Six were my fault. Six damn souls hanging over me for the rest of my life? Why the hell did I have to kill them?
Annie. I had to come back for Annie. Even as the stupid, hormonal fourteen year old I was, I knew her and I had something special. She was so happy to see me back alive that she didn't care that I killed six others in the process. Maybe she did care. Maybe she just chose to forget. That would be like her, to forget the wrongdoings of others just so she could forgive them.
I hate reaping days. My mind soars at a million miles an hour because I am worried about her. I'm worried about Annie. My thoughts crisscross around my mind and I never even notice the beginning of the reapings. I don't even notice the video's conclusion until the applause.
Delphi, the escort for District Four stands at the front of the District. She changes her appearance drastically each year, her signature color changing for each game. I remember the color five years ago was yellow because I remember thinking how ironic it was that such a happy color could be sending me off to death. This year she has chosen the color red. It's terrible. It looks like she is bleeding out everywhere. It's made even worse by the sickening sweet accent of the Capitol, like fighting a bee over the right to their honey. "Welcome to the reapings of the 70th Annual Hunger Games!" she pipes in an overly cheerful tone. The response from the crowd is half enthusiastic and half dreadful. Two seventeen year olds towards the front of each genders side look enthused to volunteer. I know they won't until next year, though. No one volunteers until they are eighteen in District Four.
I shift my focus to the eighteen year olds. Looking up at me is a pair of eyes I know better than my own. Annie's. She gives me a tense smile as Dephi continues to go on with the reapings. "It is a privilege to be here once again and to serve this wonderful District! We have on stage with me our Victors from previous years, Mags Allen, the winner of the 12th Annual Hunger Games, Marco Brather of the 31st Annual Hunger Games, Cordelia Hartsworth of the 39th Annual Hunger Games, Gill Brady of the 47th Annual Hunger Games, Neptune Cross of the 56th Annual Hunger Games and Finnick Odair of the 65th Annual Hunger Games." I look at the line of previous Victors lining the stage beside me. Mags won by pure luck, but her victory caused parents to want their children to win the Hunger Games. Marco, Cordelia, Gill, Neptune and myself have all had some amount of training before we entered the games, giving us an advantage that made us deadly in the games, even though not all of us were volunteers. On the contrary, only Marco, Cordelia and Gill volunteered. Neptune and I were the unlucky sons of bitches who were reaped. The victors who did volunteer, though, are almost as bad as the Capitol, to some degree, Cordelia being the worst. Cordelia raised her children to be victors in the games. Two out of the three of them died in the games. The third was disowned when she didn't volunteer for the Hunger Games. I hate the cruelty of victors like her. "This year the mentors for District Four shall be Gill Brady and Finnick Odair." Gill and I both stand up at our seats and wave to the Capitol cameras. I give a seductive wink, knowing that my fans will appreciate it, meaning Snow will appreciate it by extension.
Gill and I sit back down and I find myself tapping my fingers on my knee nervously. Chances are Annie will walk away from this reaping. There are four thousand, one hundred and sixty-four names in the girls bowl. The odds are in her favor. I've done everything Snow has asked of me, no matter how sickening it may be. "We will start with our female tribute this year." Delphi makes her way over the the bowl on the boy's side. She sticks her paper white hand and blood painted nails into the bowl and pulls out a name from the middle. Carefully she opens the slip of paper in her hand. I look at Annie, who is standing tense. Delphi sticks her hand into the bowl and pulls out a name. The knee of my pant's leg is in a wrinkled ball in my hand. I can only register two words in my head and I chant them over and over as if saying them will make them true. 'Not Annie. Not Annie. Not Annie.' Delphi opens the slip carefully, letting the suspense build. She's a pro at building suspense. I remember reading once in the Capitol that she is the most popular escort for the Hunger Games. "And our other tribute is," she pauses and looks directly at the camera pointed at her before she says the name, "Annie Cresta!" For a moment I don't register the name and I let myself take a breath. Mid exhale I realize who Delphi has said though. Annie is making her way up to the stage with tears in her eyes. I feel a weight in my stomach and look over at the eighteen year old section. Not Annie. She walks up to the stage, her curly-wavy hair bouncing behind her. She's shaking, and I can see her tearing up. "Any volunteers?" None.
Delphi then plunges her hand into the guys bowl. It doesn't matter who they are. I'm going to make sure Annie wins. "Shark Donahue." Shit. Annie's best friend. A young man comes out of the middle of the eighteen year olds. He pushes his dark hair away from his face and locks eyes with me, his blue meeting my green. I know Shark blames me for this. I can hardly blame him. I don't know what I have done wrong. I tried so hard to stay on Snow's good side. I thought I was successful. Annie isn't safe.
Shark stands on the side of the stage and Delphi calls for volunteers. There are none. I look at Annie for the first time since Shark got his name called. He pulls Annie in for a hug. She's crying on Shark's shoulder. It's not fair to Annie that Shark was chosen. I wish I could do the same, but that would be inappropriate since the cameras are rolling. I have to remain aloof for the Capitol even though my heart is breaking inside my chest. Annie must know this. I look at her and Shark, as if I am just another mentor, sizing up their tributes, but my eyes say so much more. I notice Shark look over Annie's shoulder and locks eyes with me, and nods. Him and I make a silent pact. Annie comes out of these games.
Thank you guys so much for reading! It real means a lot to me!
Question of the Day
What is your favorite animal?
With Love,
-Juliet