"'Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 76th Hunger Games.' On the 20th of November 2015, the war will change everyone, including Finnick."
~ For Finnick ~
"I wanted to go back for Peeta and Johanna.." he muttered. "But I- ... I couldn't move.."
I remember watching him sitting on the edge of his neat bed, quietly running his fingers through loops of his rope as tears streamed down his face. He held his head down as I watched him slowly tie knots away.
"They have Annie too. They took her," he whispered. "She's- uh. Uh.. She's in the Capitol.."
After wiping away a tear from his eye, he remained quiet, no longer letting his emotions take over him. His hands paused from fiddling with his rope and he sat there motionless. Just staring at the tiled wall.
"I wish she was dead," he gently hummed. "I wish they were all dead and we were too."
No longer was the charming prince standing in might, his golden locks blowing in the glorious breeze. Oh no. Now he was broken like a shattered glass. His body shook as he rocked himself back and forth in a ball under his bedsheets.
I remember encountering him in the elevator back in District 13, wearing nothing but a pair of tight underwear. The smirk that once made him special returned. Everyone around us knew he was regaining that old strength.
By the time the rebels swarmed the hospital after their return from the Capitol, he had fixed himself. His heart was patched back up. All after he saw her. Her lucious ginger hair. She squealed in excitement when she saw his face.
"Finnick!"
"Annie," he muttered as he dashed past the nurses. "Annie!"
"Finnick!"
I remember watching as she leapt like a monkey from her bed once she freed herself from the wired strap around her arm. He gently catched her and they swirled around, lips locked together as they spun like dancers on ice. And that's what they were like dancing. Dancing at the wedding.
Large oak trees, artificial flowers hooked from freshly painted wooden posts and fresh grass spurting from the ground. Their heels clicked against the wooden planks as they danced across the alter. Hand in hand, the other habitants of District 13 joined alongside them both. And so did I. With Prim.
I watched as Coin stood in silence off in the shadows, plotting another devious idea. It wasn't until weeks later that I realized what she was thinking. When her conversations with Finnick led to him joining the fight for justice in the Star Squad.
Pushing me back once machine guns fired out from walls in long alleyways. Locking Peeta in his grasp once he shoved Mitchell to his death in the barbed-wire net pod. Taking the lead in the journeys through the sewers. And of course, letting us flee as he held off against the crazed lizard mutts down in those dark sewers.
I remember shivering in the cold as my hands slipped on slimey, freezing bars attached to the ladders. Once I reached the top, another layer of the sewers awaited me. Water poured like tsunami waves, my explosive arrows were igniting the mutts into gigantic balls of fire. My hand reached up. I latched onto the slippery bar as hard as I can. Lifted my leg up. Repeated the process. It was almost like it never was going to end. Like we were all going to be doomed.
I had saw a ray of light peering from the top of the seemingly final ladder and my breath vanished. I scrambled up, Peeta shoving me up by the heels of my shoes. Paused in my tracks the moment I saw a lone lizard latch onto Finnick, dragging him down into the murky water.
They both quickly burst out, another two racing like mad towards him, digging their claws deep into his flesh. My mind had went blank the moment I saw one with its mouth wide open, lunging towards his exposed neck.
The man who covered himself with fish nets at the Tribute Parade. The man who helped save Mags the best he could during the violent Quarter Quell. The man who went through hell and back as he kept the secret of District 13 away from me for my safety. The man torn apart by the kidnapping of the love of his life. The man who fixed himself and was as happy as he could be. It was for him. The war was for him, just like every other citizen of Panem.
And that man was gone forever once I pulled out the Holo. Pulled it out to end his pain as the dirty water began to stain with red.
Nightlock. Nightlock. Nightlock.
Author's Note:
Hello! I just wanted to say that all these 'Author's Note' things will be copy and pasted in each of these 'For The Mockingjay' oneshots. Yes, they will all be the same. If you're really confused by this, let me explain:
As you all know, the beautiful and amazing Hunger Games movie franchise will finally come to an end on November 20th. As a major fan of the series, I have decided to write as many oneshots 'for' the characters as I can to celebrate what it has achieved.
These stories will try and focus on the heart and soul of the characters, digging deep into their most special memories. I will try to do as many as I can. This is quite possibly one of the most craziest things I have attempted on this website, but whatever. The Hunger Games is too special for me to just treat as a sad ending... It must end in style, and I will help it end in style in my own way!
We all have one enemy, and that's President Snow! He corrupts everyone and everything! He turns the best of us against each other! Stop killing for him!
Tonight, turn your weapons to the Capitol. Turn your weapons to Snow!