My throat is roar from screaming. The tears cloud my vision as I watch the woman me and Finnick call 'the Grim Reaper' scrabble around the big glass bowl, that, one way or another, will determine my fate. The noise of the crowd fills my ears, fills my head, my heart. I block my ears, sink to the floor, and begin to rock back and forth.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
But as much as I try to block out the world, the Grim Reaper's voice reaches me, snakes its way into my mind, multiplied a thousand times. I scream, to block out the name, the name that fills my head.
My name.
Annie Cresta.
Some call me mad. I'm not mad, but I must admit, the world I've created inside my head seems a lot more appealing to me than the one I live in.
Some call me the Sea Witch.
I like this more. It gives the idea that I am powerful, with magic at my fingertips, and that I am independent. Except for Finnick. Because without Finnick, I would have crawled into the world inside my head long ago and taken up permanent residence there.
Here he is now. I don't know if he's allowed, but he is by my side, taking my hand, coaxing me from my fear. The red hot hand that clutches my throat, and stays there, always. But Finnick can send it away. When Finnick is with me, the fear loosens its grip on me. As I reach the stage, shaking, Finnick kisses my hand, clutches it, steadying me. He whispers into my hair as he kisses the top of my head.
"I love you Annie. I love you so, so much."
And then he is gone.
I stand there, shaking.
But then something unexpected happens. Mags, my mentor, my second mother, hobbles up to me, strokes my hair, and says loudly and confidently,
"I volunteer as tribute! I volunteer!"
Only I am close enough to hear her voice shake.
And then it hits me. I will not be going back into the arena. Mags will.
But by the time this thought registers, it is too late to say thank you, for I am being herded offstage into Finnick's waiting arms.
They close around me and hold on tight.
I close my eyes, and cover my ears.
"Finnick Odair!"
Finnick walks up to take his place, strong, confident and a slight smile plays on his lips. I don't know why, but it is as he takes his place on stage that I lose it.
Screams crowd me, suffocate me, as the fear tightens its grip. I will everyone to stop screaming, until I realise it's me.
"Finnick! Finnick! No!"
Black dots swim before my eyes and the last thing I remember before I black out is Finnick running to me, holding me in his arms as I lose consiousness.
And I remember feeling that it should have been me comforting him. But it never is. And we both know that.