A/N: Odesta AU and for Caesar's Palace Monthly Contest! This was written for the Color challenge in Cesar's Palace as well as.
So this is kinda a crossover? I don't know, it's kinda like Thirteen Reasons Why and The Hunger Games and All the Bright Places and my life. . . so enjoy?
Triggers at the bottom of the page.
Sorry, I can't spell, and I suck at grammar.*
*and I suck at writing.
-:-
Train wreck: noun informal a chaotic or disastrous situation that holds in peculiar fascination for observers
or
Annie is broken and Fin tries so hard to save her.
-:-
March 24, 2014 / (or red - the color of her hair)
Finnick first saw Annie alone at the abandoned lot.
The abandoned lot was covered in weeds and the slushy snow barely blanketed the metal spokes piercing the ground. Freezing rain came down in pulsing sheets, but a red haired girl was balancing at the top of the tall tree with no jacket. Her hair was sticking to her bare shoulders, but her smile was evident even from the curb.
Finnick couldn't peel his eyes away from her small figure. Her pale skin hinted that autumn had ended, and the days at the swimming hole were long gone. She radiated happiness. Annie didn't care about the rain, she didn't care about the wind that would blow her over. She didn't care; she was carefree.
Finnick knew of Annie from school; it was hard to miss her bright, red hair in the crowded hallways. She was known for her hair, but she was also known for her withdrawal from life. She only ever spoke around the ancient Ms. Ramos - or Mags, as Annie called her - and ate lunch in her room.
There was no doubting it. With her hair stuck to her glowing skin, bright green eyes alive with happiness, and shaking arms opened to the sky, Annie was beautiful.
-:-
September 15, 2014 / (or orange - the color of the sun)
Annie first met Finnick on the school's roof.
Should I die today? That was the question she asked herself as the wind blew harder and harder. Should I?
Annie was compensating to jump. She wasn't really depressed, she just was empty. Like a bowl devoid of all salad. Annie was fascinated with death, and everyday she asked herself: is today a good day to die?
Annie gathered all of her courage, and stepped closer to the edge. The wind whistled through her ears and her arms flung up to steady herself. Her heart beat with every step and she felt a flush of color creep up into her cheeks. She felt alive. She felt whole.
Below the whole school gathered. Some pointed to her, others busted out their phones and recorded her, some were even mean enough to yell at her to jump. Annie simply turned her head away from them and listened to the September wind blowing.
A golden boy was soon beside her. Finnick sat on the edge of the school, feet dangling, and he was petrified. Annie couldn't help but ask herself the question everyone else was asking below.
What is Finnick doing up here?
Annie decided to ignore the golden haired boy and kept staring out - not at the crowds - but at the orange sun steadily climbing upward. The signal of a new day.
The sun shone in her eyes, and it's bright light burned them. Yet, she didn't look away. Annie stayed there watching the crowds press up against the building in the early sun's rays. She could see everything from here.
She could see Katniss's dark hair fluttering in the wind - like a flag - as she stared at Annie with her face contorted with worry. She could watch Cato - the bully of the school - jeer at her to jump. She could reach out to Foxface - the girl who everyone forgot her real name - and grab that cell phone recording her. She was higher then anyone up here, with the rays of sunlight basking her in their orange glow. For now, she was their queen - maybe not a good one, maybe not a popular one - but a queen none the less.
And Annie didn't want to leave.
-:-
September 15, 2014 / (or yellow - the color of the sun)
Finnick first talked to Annie on the school roof.
"You should probably get down from there," Finnick warned to Annie perching dangerously close to the edge. After the bell rang for people to get to class, many of the watchers abandoned Annie on the roof - she hadn't jumped yet. They left to go back to their mundane day, their day filled with no joy - only a dull throbbing of their heads. Finnick knew about that, he had lived most of his life that way.
"Why would I want to get down?" Annie asked as she turned to face Finnick. Once she say him her face crumpled, and she let out a sigh. "What do you want? Come to mock me even more like your friends? 'Cause I'm not really in the mood for your teasing,"
"No, no. I would never tease you. And - my friends - they don't mean it," Finnick said hastily, this was his one chance to talk to Annie - who intrigued him. He was somewhat fascinated with her; her carefreeness, and how she didn't give an hell about what people thought of her.
"Yeah, they don't mean it," Annie repeated, not with sarcasm but with a longing in her voice. "Why are you here?"
"I'm here because. . ." Finnick started, but then he stopped. "Well, I don't know. Lately, things have been— you don't want to hear about it,"
"Of course I do, " Annie patted beside her. "Sit down - no one cares about school - so we can just sit here. What wrong?"
"Okay," Finnick cautiously sat next to Annie, and his feet was dangling off the edge of the roof. "I'll tell you. Just promise not to tell?"
"I promise," Annie put a hand gently on Finnick's shoulder. At that moment Finnick didn't see a girl who his 'friends' had spread nasty rumors about, or a girl who was known to be insane and have awful nightmares. He saw a kind, gentle girl who cared, and Finnick trusted her.
"Last year, my brother died," Finnick stared, he felt the sadness clutch his heart once more. Their cold claws gripped at it, tighter and tighter, until Finnick felt the tears in his eyes slipping out. Sobs rocked through his body and snot was coming out of his nose. "He—he, drowned and I couldn't stop him. I loved him so muc—"
"It's ok, you don't need to talk about it," Annie soothed. "Just think about the—orange sun. Look at how beautiful he is. I've always seen him in a bright orange suit, dancing around the sky, and smiling down on me. Just look at the orange sun,"
Finnick couldn't help but let out a giggle through his tears at Annie's remark, "But the sun isn't orange. It's yellow. Yellow like a lemon or—well the sun."
"No silly, the sun isn't yellow," Annie playfully chastised, "It's orange, like Peeta's favorite color or an orange - just not that shade,"
"No it's yellow!" Finnick protested lightly.
"Orange!"
"Yellow!"
"Orange!"
"Yellow!"
"Orang—" Annie and Finnick burst into laughter at their silly argument. For once they weren't juniors ignoring their impending future and doing endless stacks of homework; for once they were children again. Children playing kickball on the field, or children running around screaming things of joy, or children holding hands.
"What is all that ruckus!" A teacher stepped outside right below Annie and Finnick. Annie gestured for Finnick to pull his legs up and press up against the roof. Finnick copied what Annie did, and soon he was feeling the warm tiles pressing into his skin.
As soon as the teacher left, Finnick and Annie burst into giggles - though they were quiet giggles - once more.
-:-
December 7, 2014 / (or white - the color of snow)
Annie first kissed Finnick at the park.
Annie stood waiting on the curb of the park - precisely at 11:00 PM - standing in the snow. Unlike rain, Annie did feel the cold from the snow. She was dressed in so many layers that a stranger passing by would think of her more as a ball of clothing than an actual human.
"Finnick where are you?" Annie asked to no one in particular. She nervously tapped at her phone. What if he found out? What if he knows? Will we still be friends?
"Finnick, please. This isn't funny!" Annie felt unease settled throughout her body, and she trembled.
'Annie,' a voice whispered. Annie whipped around to find that a body cover in blood stood before her. It turned and Annie screamed. Where the eyes should've been was two black holes. 'Annie, do you remember me? The person you left?'
Annie did remember the body, where its holes were once stood emerald colored eyes and it's stringy red hair was once full of volume, glossy, and red as a cherry.
"Oh my god," she reached out to touch the body's pale, rotted skin. "Annabel? Anna?"
The body - Anna - smiled. Her once bright teeth were yellow and rotted - like her skin. 'I'm back Annie, I told ya I wouldn't leave you.'
"You're here," Annie slip her hand into Anna's. "You're actually here,"
Anna - Annie's twin - had died in a car crash last year. Annie still blamed it on herself, she was driving the car, but the police kept telling her over and over that it was because the other car's driver was drunk. And crashed right into Anna.
'Of course I'm here, Annie,' Anna soothed, 'I'm always here.' Then, she disappeared. Anna just vanished into the dark night.
"Anna!?" Annie scream, she began patting the ground where Anna was a few seconds ago. "Anna!? Come back! Anna, don't leave me?"
Sobs racked Annie's body, and she was shaking. Salty tears flowed out of her eyes, and she felt the world around her blur. Anna was gone.
Annie fell into the snow, and her knees dug into it. She ignored the cold, white snow digging into her clothes, or the tears freezing on her face. Annie all just felt the pit of betrayal and sadness grasping her heart. Their cold claws burned with shame. "Anna," Annie sobbed.
A pair of warm arms wrapped around her. "Get off of me!" She yelled while spinning around to find Finnick staring at her. Concern was imbedded in his sea-green eyes.
"Annie, is everything alright?" Finnick wrapped his arms around her. Annie could feel the love flow off of Finnick, but it didn't calm her. Annie felt a storm of emotions set it, and rip her heart apart. The snow turned black, and all she could see was Finnick there hugging her.
She could no longer hold it in. With sobs leaking out of her mouth, Finnick's arms wrapped around Annie, and Anna's ghost patting her shoulder, she told Finnick everything. She told him about the car crash, the ghost of Anna, her sister, how much she needed him, and her disorder.
"The doctors say I have a disorder," Annie spat out the word as it if was poison, and - to her - it was. "They say it may be a mild type of, of, of. . . well. They don't know. They say it could be schizophrenia, but I don't show the speaking little or the, the, the. . . They say it could be. . ." Annie bursted into sobs. No one besides her pushy mom and her withdrawn father knows about her disorder. She's never told anyone.
Telling Finnick was as if she stripped down to basics. Telling him how imperfect she was. He probably hated her now. He probably thought she was a monster. He probably won't speak to her again.
"So, do you hate me?" Annie turned around in Finnick's arms. Their faces were so close, she could reach out and brush away his golden curl.
A pause ensued. The whole world was silent: the birds stopped singing, the snow didn't even make a sound as it landed, and Annie held her breath. The world was completely silent, and Annie was being crushed by the weight on her shoulders - the weight of waiting.
"I don't," Finnick said. "If anything, I love you more," Annie felt the burden being lifted off her shoulders. He hadn't rejected her, he loved her. He loved her.
They were so close, Annie could just lean in, and their lips would touch. The thought of that sent fireworks in Annie's veins. I could kiss him, she felt giddy at the thought. So giddy, that she leaned in, and her lips met his.
It wasn't like in the movies, when the couple would suddenly start making out, hungry for more. It wasn't like television, where the girl would shyly back away after their quick peck on the lips.
No, it was like heaven. They sat there, Finnick's arms around Annie's back as their lips met in one long embrace. They didn't back out, or they didn't try to stick each other's tongue down their throat.
It was heaven, until Annie had to breathe. She pulled away and sucked in one huge breath. Kissing Finnick was amazing, but it was hard to hold her breath.
Finnick stared at her for a few seconds before figuring out what happened, but when he did he burst into a fit of laughter. Annie couldn't help but join in; their movie had ended in the most comical scene ever.
Neighbors pulled up their blinds and opened their curtains to find a couple outside standing on the curb of the park. The boy with the curliest, golden hair and the girl with red hair sticking up in all directions. They stood in the falling snow laughing then kissing then laughing. All of the neighbors could agree that the boy and girl were cute together - even though they were making a lot of noise.
-:-
January 1, 2015 / (or green - the color of the New Year)
Finnick first told the world he loved Annie at The Party.
It was The Party. The party that the Golden Twins held each year at their family's apartment. The Golden Twins - Cashmere and Gloss - were downing in money. Both parents were doctors who shared a joint company, so they were rich.
Cashmere and Gloss both had this party at the beginning of the New Year since - well forever. They always intended it to be a small gathering with friends and lots of alcohol, but the friends they invited always invited more friends, and the party often grew out of control. Ever since last year Cashmere and Gloss threw caution to the wind, and just invited everyone in the grade - save for the losers, of course.
Finnick had brought along Annie this year because it seemed his duty as a boyfriend. Finnick and Annie had been secretly dating since that faithful day in December when all the secrets came out.
He did enjoy their secret meetings in the park, or a movie night in Annie's basement, but Finnick wanted people to know he loved Annie. He wanted to see their look of surprise as their golden boy strolled through the party with the broken girl, and he wanted them to accept it. To see their faces light up with surprise then dull into acceptance: to see Enobraia sneer and then offer her hand, to supervise Haymitch drawling about how skinny Annie was, or to watch Peeta shyly ask Annie about her favorite color.
Finnick had decided that tonight was going to be the night everyone found out. In their hometown in Massachusetts, it was a tradition to kiss at the stroke of midnight. It was luck of the new year, showing dedication and passion. He was going to kiss Annie, to show that and see the looks on the people's faces.
"Finnick! Wake up!" Cashmere yelled above the music. Her face was red, probably from the vodka she was drinking straight from the bottle she grasped in her hand. "It's like ten minutes till midnight, and you're still not drunk!"
"You aren't," Finnick retaliated. Sure, Finnick did like drinking. He did like the burn of alcohol as her swallowed it, and the memories he left behind while one it. But Finnick wanted to stay somber for 2015, his year with Annie. He really did care about her.
"Of course I'm not drunk," Cashmere snapped. "Someone's got to make sure those pesky freshmen don't sneak in. Plus, we all know I'm way to heavy weight to get knocked off by vodka."
Finnick walked away from Cashmere once she began to chat it up with Brutus. Have to find Annie, he thought. Where is Annie? Probably somewhere quiet, and hopefully she isn't high or drunk. That would suck.
Finnick embarked searching around the house for a glimpse of red hair. Down into the way too loud basement filled to the brim with drunk people playing care games or gossiping. Glancing at the living room filled with beating music and atrocious dancing. Swerving around the kitchen with people eating snacks they brought or drinking far more alcohol then legal.
After searching the whole first floor and finding no trace of Annie, Finnick had to do the desperate. He had to brave the second floor. The second floor was often filled with people doing illegal drugs, people getting to third base, or other reckless things high schoolers would do.
No time for reflection, Finnick raced up the stairs, through the halls longer than the track, and stopped to find himself on a balcony. Not a balcony facing the party filled with reckless idiots, but a balcony overlooking the wild lands. Roads led out of the driveway into nothing. The streetlights were on, but that did little to block out the stars.
For a second, all Finnick could do was stare. His eyes couldn't get enough of the world. A world so much more simpler than behind him. A world almost peaceful. Almost.
"Finn," A voice addressed from behind him. Finn spun on his heels to find Annie, not high or drunk, but calm. A calm that was so unnerving. It filled Finnick with a sense of danger, warning lights in his head screamed that word. But Finnick didn't move. He didn't listen to the little voices in his head, instead he walked closer to Annie.
Her beauty was so much more wilder. Her hair was fire tonight, lighting up the night with its bright red tongues. Her green eyes peered into his, and it made his toes tingle.
"Annie," Finnick neared toward her. "Where were you? I was looking for you."
She ignored this question, "Look at it. Look at all those stars. So far away, so many light years away that they're probably dead as we see them. An huge universe out there - so huge that - we're nothing more than specks of dust. Makes you feel small doesn't it?"
Annie's voice was calm, calmer than normal. So calm that it was cold, an ice cold that could rival the coldness outside. "Annie, are you alright?" Finnick asked, she was never this detached. Annie never was so dead - not filled with passion. Her pale, slender fingers seemed lost stroking her long, green dress, and her eyes were fixated on something or someone. Someone who wasn't Finnick.
"Annie?!" Finnick grabbed Annie by the shoulders, and pulled her close. "Annie?!" She did not respond, Annie just stared at Finnick, and her jeweled colored eyes never focused on his face.
"Annie?!" Finnick didn't know what to do. She was never like this. Annie was always alive, not dead. She responded with laughter, kisses, tears, or something. Finnick fumbled with his phone and checked the time. Two minutes until midnight.
One last idea flitted into Finnick's brain, and he gave it a shot. He smacked his lips into Annie's hard. Please work. God, please let this work.
Finnick could feel Annie's lips suddenly melt into his. Molding into his, and kissing back with such aliveness - with passion. Annie said, "Where am I? Why— what? Finnick?"
"It's a long story," Finnick started, but then the thought struck him like lightening. "Oh shoot! About a minute till midnight! Follow me!" He tugged Annie's green sleeves down the staircase, through the hallway, until they reached the living room.
The television was on, broadcasting the annual Time Square ball drop. "Five, four, three,—" the people around Finnick and Annie all began to yell the count down until the New Year. "Two,—"
Finnick felt Annie grasp his hand. In hope or fear or kindness or trust, he didn't know. Finnick was swept up in the ruckus of such a small thing, the beginning of the new year.
"—one! 2015!" The room exploded with people shouting those to simple words, and was soon engulfed with the sheer amount of glasses clinking or hugs exchanged or kisses given. Finnick soon pulled Annie into a deep kiss - like their first one. Not too short but not too long.
Many of the clinking had stopped and kisses broken off and the hugs were untangled, and the room silent as they all watched Finnick - their golden boy - kiss some freak.
But Finnick and Annie stayed in the middle kissing like no one was there. Hugging and wrapping each other's arms around each other, a tangle of arms.
"Oh. My. God," Foxface whispered. "Oh. My. God."
Those few words broke the silence and everyone suddenly staring talking. People grabbed at their phones to Snapchat or text the moment. The first thing everyone would be talking about back at school would be this incident, and it was huge.
Yet, Finnick and Annie stood there in the middle of the room, kissing, hugging, holding their breath, and didn't care. They were invincible - at least, to them.
(But all over Instagram and Snapchat featured a girl in a green dress the color of the meadow kissing a boy in a polo the color of the forest. The star-crossed lovers. A great way to kick off the new year, indeed.)
-:-
February 8, 2015 / (or purple - the color of the slide)
"Annie?" Finnick asked around the park. "Annie? Come out, come out wherever you are?" Finnick and Annie were enjoying a cold, winter morning in the park playing hide-and-go-seek - just like little kids.
Finnick thought of himself like a little kid at these times. He could feel the joy bursting out of his smile, and the happiness leaked out of his voice.
Finnick rounded the bend near the old tree quietly. Annie could run away if she heard him. "Annie." He rounded the tree to find Annie staring off into nowhere. "Got ya!" He grabbed her shoulder.
Annie just bursted off his hand. "Annie?" Finnick asked, "Annie? Are you alright?" If Annie had heard him she chose to ignore him. She walked - as if in a trance - toward the park's bright purple slide.
"Annie!" Finnick grabbed her hand. In the past "dates" Finnick had discovered that Annie sometimes went into a trance, not responding to anything. The Internet said it was her mental disorder, but Finnick chose to ignore that thought. Annie was perfect to him, illness or not.
Though Annie didn't respond the least to his touch. Finnick had learned ways to bring her out of the trace, some key words, so he tried them, "New Years, Annie, New Years. Roof, the school roof. Remember Annie? The school roof."
Annie didn't even blink when Finnick mentioned the school roof - the place where they first met. She kept walking toward the purple slide. "Anna," Annie called out. In a tone more alive than her walking. "Anna! I'm here! Anna come!"
Annie was laughing at this point, laughing and beckoning and calling and clapping. "Annaaaaaaaa! I'm here!" She began to run faster than Finnick had ever seen her run before. She ran right across the wood chips, under the low hanging bar, and flew right up the slide.
Annie began hugging the air - she did. She placed her hands on the air as if she were hugging someone. Finnick hung back, he didn't want to startle Annie from her joyful reunion with Anna. He didn't want to tell her it was all an illusion, that her sister wasn't real. That would certainly crush her hope.
"Annie?" Finnick placed a hand on her shoulder, "Annie? Are you alright?"
As if one had thrown ice cold water onto Annie, she shook and woke with a start. "Oh my god?!" She exclaimed. "Why am I on the slide? Finnick, what happened?"
"It's a long story," Finnick soothed, "but why the slide?"
"What slide—" Annie looked around, and startled with a gasp. "Oh my gosh, what am I doing here?"
"It's a long story," Finnick repeated, tugging in Annie's shoulder, "but seriously, why the slide?"
"Me and Anna—" Annie started but a strangled sob leaked out of her words. "Anyway, I liked to slide down this slide. You know that purple is the color of fun?"
"Uhh, yeah?" Finnick guessed.
"It is, trust me. This slide was always the best place to slide down. It's so long," She gestured to the spiral the slide wound around itself. "Slides are just fun, and purple slides are the most fun."
She then drew Finnick into a kiss, one that lasted short and sweet. They stood on the slide, kissing and laughing and hugging - how teenagers should be all the time.
-:-
January 6, 2015 / (or blue - the color of tears.)
The first time Annie doubted her and Finnick's relationship was in the locker rooms.
Annie had just gotten off from the abomination of a subject that they call P.E., and was casually stepping out of the showers after changing her clothes, when a voice caught her attention. "Oh my gosh, I can't believe that! Her? That freak? With Finnick?"
"Well, she does have nice hair," another voice pointed out. The voices were coming from stall of the shower on her left.
"That's not the point," the first voice snapped. "Finnick chose her and not me?"
"Maybe you're not as hot as you thought."
"Maybe you're not as good of a friend as you thought."
"Whatever, but what's the news you got about this freak? She's secretly gay? In love with a dead girl?"
"No! Even worse! She's only dating Finnick so he'll help her in math!"
"What! Really?" The second voice practically yelled those words.
"Shh! Someone might here! Anyway, yes!"
"Isn't Finnick getting like a B- in math?" The second voice challenged.
That was all Annie could take, she tried all her might to hold back her sobs and tears so much that she was gong to sneeze. She had to get out of that locker room. Annie madly dashed across the slippery floor to her locker, and was out of that hell hole in no time.
Then, the sobs came. She collapsed in a corner in the hallways of 9th Grade, and put her hands to cover her eyes. They thought she was a whore - and gay. They really did.
Someone decided to tell the whole world she didn't love Finnick. She did, she really did. Annie's mother had always told her that people would only believe the truth, they just had to be hold the truth. But - in high school - sometimes the truth seems more like a lie than the truth. The truth is what people make it.
Lies can be truths none the less.
Annie was a whore, according to this philosophy.
Tears ran down her face, forming tiny rivers. Each tear was the color of the winter sky - a pale blue. Some tears ran into her mouth and tasted like salt, while others mixed with her snot to form a disgusting solution.
Annie couldn't bear to be at school no longer, she had to escape. "Where should I escape to?" Annie asked out loud to herself, and then answered herself. "Anywhere but here."
That led Annie to be found in her simple car, out on the highway - skipping school. She had rolled all the windows down, let her hair fly out, and let the cold of January snow nip at her nose. Annie still didn't know where to escape to - she'd just thought she'd drive around the country.
Annie drove forever, having passed miles and miles of nothing. Miles of nothing but white snow, dead grass, and her anger and shame and sadness disappearing behind her.
She pulled off to the side at a gas station once Annie had seen that the gas was about to run out. Annie had put all of her thoughts of driving, when she wasn't all she could feel was the shame, the guilt, the anger, the sadness rush back to her like a river.
You're a whore, Annie. You only love Finnick because he's going to get you good grades. You don't actually love him. You're not good enough!
Annie just fell apart, she screamed, kicked, and sobbed trying to vent those toxic emotions. The voices kept taunting her, 'You're not good enough, Annie.' They kept reminding her she wasn't beautiful, wasn't kind, wasn't daring, wasn't loving, wasn't good enough.
Annie couldn't take it anymore, she unlocked her car doors and ran. Ran somewhere, ran anywhere. She had to escape the ghosts, the taunting, teasing ghosts.
She ran through the dead, snowy grass biting and tugging at her legs, ran through the emotions that threatened to tear her apart. She ran and ran and ran and ran, until her breath was coming out in short gasps, and her legs ached even more than her heart.
There, in the middle of nowhere, Annie collapsed. She hugged her knees close to her chest and sobbed. Sobbed for all the emotions, sobbed for all the lies, sobbed for all the doubts. She lay there - in the cold snow, in the dead grass, in the weak winter sun - and sobbed.
Annie felt the blue, blue tears streaming down her face, and freezing in the winter. Sobs shook her body but so did the cold.
Annie couldn't move, she was stuck in a place of no return. He does love me. He does love me. He does love me. But I don't love him. Trains of thought whirled around her brain, and crashed into each other.
Annie still couldn't move, all she could do was feel the sobs and tears and snot corse through her body, and sit there - crying for forgiveness. "Anna. Finnick. Help me."
No one saw her, a girl with limp red hair hugging her knees, and crying as if she lost a lover. She kept crying and her sobs cut through the silence of 'nowhere' - like a knife through butter. If one believed in ghosts - if one did squint - one would see a girl who was almost transparent. Her pale hand was on the crying girl's shoulder, and her red hair mixed with the other girl's. But no one saw.
-:-
April 1, 3015 / (or pink - the color of love)
Finnick didn't know what he did wrong.
Ever since late March, Finnick hadn't seen Annie wander the halls, or shyly duck her head down in class. In fact, no one at this school had seen Annie, but they still did like to tease Finnick about his chosen girlfriend.
Like immature idiots they teased and taunted him about having an insane girl as his lover. "Hey Finnick!" Cato's voice was coming from the lockers, but Finnick didn't turn his head to acknowledge him - that would just feed Cato. "Finnick! Where little insane Ariel? She decided to leave you? You finally made the right choice to dump her?" He kept going even though Finnick showed no response, "You don't mind if I take her under my wing." Finnick could tell by the sniggers that Cato was probably doing some sort of sexual gesture.
Finnick brushed off the anger from that taunt, he had gotten used to it. It took sometime, but after several punches thrown at the bullies - and several suspensions - Finnick had learned to control his ever growing anger. They had no right to correct the cycle of love, and Finnick hated it in general when he was corrected.
But today worry overshadowed any of the anger. He was worried for Annie, so worried that he hadn't slept the night before. Instead, Finnick had decided that he would go to Annie's house and ask her parents about her.
Maybe she was just sick, Finnick held onto his hope of that small idea.
Finnick half-heartily went through his classes, more worried about Annie then the literally works of Shakespeare and the causes of the Civil War.
When the bell rang, Finnick was already out of class. He was running down the hall, ignoring warning looks from teachers and tripping hazards spewed across the floor. He ran out into the parking lot and practically threw his belongings into the passenger seat. Finnick didn't really know where Annie's home was - Annie had driven him at the time. He just vaguely remembered when to turn left.
Finnick focused all his attention on the road and - tried to - block out all the negative thoughts clouding his brain. Annie is sick. Annie is sick. That's why Annie wasn't at school, because she's sick. Annie is sick. The thoughts ran over Finnick like water, comforting him, convincing him that everything was going to be alright.
He had passed a red cherry house two blocks ago before it hit Finnick that the red cherry house was Annie's house. Finnick barely registered this thought but the car was it's own monster. Roaring to life, it sped down the highway - in a speed that was certainly breaking the law - and finally parked in front of the house.
Finnick ran up the cement path in bounds, and he was soon at the door, knocking. It swung open to reveal a man in his early 50s frowning at Finnick.
"Young man it's 3:39," he said. "What could you be doing at this house?"
"Sir," Finnick started.
"Wait," Mr. Cresta interrupted, checking his watch. "You're the boy who came with Annie. Her boyfriend." He said that word as if it was a foreign one, as if Annie had never had a boyfriend before.
"Yeah. About that, is Annie sick? She wasn't at school today, I was hoping I could see her," Finnick rushed through his words, stumbling several times. Mr. Cresta kept staring at him as if he were trying to read his soul. "Can I come in?"
"Can you?" Mr. Cresta raised an eyebrow.
"I mean, uh. May I. May I come in, Mr. Cresta?"
"Yes, and just call me Adam," Mr. Cresta beckoned for Finnick to follow him as he went into the house. Finnick hastily followed him.
The house looked as if it was from a catalogue. Walls decorated with matching frames surrounded Finnick, and the kitchen was a spotless, granite countertopped wonder. The living room was all white featuring a huge fireplace and a coffee table that looked more like a display case than an actual place to put coffee on. Every surface had a purpose and everything had a place, and it was so unlike Finnick's messy, dirty home. It was perfect.
Mr. Cresta was sitting at the table in the kitchen - drinking some coffee, once Finnick had stopped marveling at the house. "So, Finnick," Mr. Cresta gestured to the seat across from him, "tell me a little about yourself."
"Well, I swim and I run. And I like to play games—" Finnick blabbered. "Um, sir. Where's Annie? Is she too sick to see me?"
"Oh," Mr. Cresta said, putting down his coffee gently. "She's not sick. Annie just likes to go off sometime. Off places, don't worry she'll come back. Several nights of gas station food and loneliness bring her back. It just takes time, don't worry."
"But, but. Should you guys care?" Mr. Cresta looked taken aback.
"Of course we care," he snapped. "Annie just does that. We try to control her and can't. She's a free spirit, giving her some leash doesn't make her rebel against us."
"Oh, sorry sir. I didn't mean to offend you. Is it ok if I go look for Annie?" Finnick asked quietly.
"Go ahead. She'll come back, I know it."
"I'll go," Finnick stood up and pushed in his chair. "Thank you, Mr. Ces—Adam. Thank you for having me over."
"Wait," Mr. Cresta said from behind Finnick. "Don't you want to see Annie's room?" That caught Finnick's attention. They were inviting a random stranger into their daughter's room? What the heck?
"Sure," Finnick let the curiosity get the best of him. That curiosity had been bugging him the moment he first stepped into Annie's house, she wouldn't let him go to her bedroom, and just stayed in the basement. What was so bad about Annie's room.
Mr. Cresta trudged up the stairs, and Finnick practically skipped behind him. The door on the right, in the hallway filled with pictures and paintings, was Annie's room. Mr. Cresta carefully opened the door, and beckoned Finnick in.
Finnick was engulfed in pinks. Shades and shades and shades of pink and it seemed like everything was pink - except for the walls. Two twin beds sat against one wall with a canopy of white drawn over it. Drawers and dressers colored in a light salmon dotted around the room, but the main focal piece was something so different. It stuck out like a sore thumb but it wasn't sore to the eyes - it was pretty.
A huge painting took up the entirety of one whole wall, and it wasn't pink. It was greens, blues, whites, and grays all blended together to form a storm - a snow storm. Finnick leaned in closer to see that part of the painting was covered by a gray cloth.
"Annie said that we should show this to you if you ever came," Mr. Cresta said in a gentle, soft voice while fingering the covering. He tippy-toed and undid the cloth from the nails, and let the cloth fall to the ground.
Finnick could now the entire painting, and he had to hold his breath, it was so beautiful. In the center of this snow storm stood two people hugging. One was a boy with golden hair blowing in the breeze along with his scarf, and a smile was on his face - a gentle smile full of excitement and hope. The other was a girl, a girl with luscious red hair - the color of fire - swirling in the wind and entangled with the blonde hair. Her green eyes were open and focused on the boy's sea green ones.
In the midst of their embrace stood a light pink heart, the color of Annie's top she wore in the March rain all those months ago. The heart seem to shine off the page and illuminate the couple's faces. The couple that was Finnick and Annie. But as he drew closer to the painting - lost in its strange tranquility - he noticed something. A too-bright white in the corner.
As he neared, it turned out it was a person. A person with skin white as snow, but other than that, it could've been Annie with different taste. Red hair cut short - about shoulder length - and bright green eyes - the color of first grass, stood there watching them. Not a creepy, stalkerish way but in a caring way. As if she were a sister, and she was. Finnick could bet that was Anna.
"She always said pink was the color of love," Finnick has been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't registered Mr. Cresta touching the pink heart in between him and Annie in the painting. "And it is, pink is the color of warm love. Red is the color of hot love, but a fire will go out with too much heat. White is the color of cold love, but cold love was never love. But pink, the color of warm love. Don't you agree?"
"Yes, I agree," Finnick answered, but his voice was far away. Yes, pink is the color of love. True love was - and always will be pink.
-:-
April 2, 2015 / (or black - the color of death)
A day had passed and Annie hadn't returned from her journey. Finnick had obtained Annie's parents number, and was constantly calling them. Calling them so much, that he had been blocked.
Finnick had decided to screw school, and spent the whole day looking for Annie. He went to all the spots her knew of: the park, the edge of town, the school roof, but she still wasn't there. Which was why Finnick was cramped in his car, driving around the town square, through neighborhoods, and around strip malls.
His legs were aching and could barely move, but Finnick wouldn't give up. He had to find Annie.
He kept driving, keeping his mind peeled when suddenly the thought hit him. What about the abandoned lot? At this point, Finnick really wanted to hit himself. The lot was where he first saw Annie! Oh course shed escape there, no one went to the lot during winter - only summer and spring.
The only reason Finnick couldn't hit himself was because his hands had to grab the steering wheel. Stupid me, he thought, Annie always loved the lot. Stupid me!
He reversed the direction of the car - it was heading toward Mag's house - and sped toward the abandoned lot.
When he got there the snow was falling - heavily. The sky was the color of a dull nickel, and the nickel color clouds didn't do anything to lighten the mood. The cold bit at his thin-gloved hands, and the snow soaked his cold. Finnick stood in the snow, in front of the lot and began to feel the nervousness and doubts seep into his thoughts. What if she isn't here? What if she's somewhere else? Millions and millions of different scenarios raced through Finnick's mind and strangled most his little hope.
Most of his hope. A little speck still seemed intent on searching for Annie in the lot, and Finnick listened to that tiny speck. He searched around the park, every inch.
Finnick ran around it twice - ducking around the old trie swing and barely dodging the metal spikes, but he wasn't really looking for anything in general. He just wanted to find her.
"Annie!" Finnick yelled, not caring who heard her. "Annie! Come out please? Please! Annie! Please?" He walked around the park yelling that phrase over and over until her voice gave out, and he couldn't talk.
Tears poked the corners of his eyes, Annie wasn't here. She wasn't here. Finnick fell to the ground, sobbing, crying. "Annie," he chocked out, "Annie where are you?"
That little voice, the only who told him to keep searching, tugged at his heart again. It urged him to move forward, to go off and look for Annie. To not give up hope.
"Don't give up hope," Finnick repeated the words the little voice said. "I won't give up hope. Annie!"
Finnick kept searching around the park, around cold snow and old tires. "Annie. Annie, come out, come out, wherever you are!"
A dark feeling - as if knowing you failed an exam - bloomed in Finnick's heart. She's not here, she never was, a voice urged.
"Yeah," Finnick agreed out loud, "She isn't here."
Even though his brain told him not to, Finnick kept wandering around the park. He trailed his hands over the splintering, wooden fence outlining the park, and rested his hands on the large stone that stood alone in a corner, and he—
"Ouch!" Finnick tripped over something and landed face first in a pile of - not so soft - snow. "What the heck is that?!" Finnick's curiosity got the best of him, and he dug into the pile of snow quickly, ignoring the cold and damp snow.
He kept digging and digging until he hit something. Finnick quickly began brushing away snow in quick breaststroke-like gestures. A black cloth stuck out in the snow, cold and wet. That's odd, Finnick thought, why would someone bury a cloth?
He chose to ignore the reasons of someone burying a perfectly good cloth - ignoring the fact that it could be cursed. Finnick began to half-heartily brush away snow, not realizing what he uncovered until a bright red filled the picture.
"Oh my god," Finnick breathed, then he screamed. What he uncovered wasn't a cursed cloth but an Annie. Her red hair sprawled out on the snow like lava, and her eyes were closed - as if she was sleeping. Several of her limbs were at odd angles - a bird wounded in landing, never to fly again. She was like a bird, a bird asleep. But Annie's chest wasn't rising or falling. She was dead. "Oh my god."
Finnick screamed, he screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed. He screamed out the sadness and anger into the day covered in clouds. He pushed on Annie's chest - like CPR - and tried to wake her up. He cried over her bright red hair that never lost its flame. He cried and cried and cried and screamed.
Sadness and anger mixed in his heart so much that Finnick didn't know if he should be angry or sad or angry. He just felt the feeling of sadness - like a cold winter's day with no sun - and anger - like spicy hot sauce on Mexican food - in his heart and consuming his thoughts.
Some sense suddenly came in Finnick's brain, and he reached for his cell phone. With shaky hands a he dialed 9-1-1. The phone rang in a steady beat while Finnick could only sob. Annie was dead, to never kiss him again, to never breath again, to never laugh again, to never cry again, to never eat tacos again, to never hug someone again, to never eat again, to never live again. She had no more agains.
"—sir, sir? Are you still there sir?" The calm voice from the phone spoke his ear.
"Yes. I'm here," Finnick managed to choke out words between the sobs.
"Sir, do you need police, fire department, or an ambulance?" The voice spoke as if she had done this millions of times - and she probably had. But Finnick didn't need those people, he needed someone who would bring Annie back.
"Any one," Finnick choked out, and he hung up the phone and just sat there. Finnick lay his head on Annie's chest and tried to wish her back alive.
A crinkle sound came from the paper. Finnick lifted up his head and adjusted his position, and lay his head back down on Annie's check. Crinkle.
Finnick sat up and searched around Annie's chest to find the source of the crinkle noise and pulled it out. The crinkle noise was from a piece of paper, a small one written with a curling handwriting that sprawled around the page. He read the writing.
Dear Finnick,
I'm so sorry. I know it wasn't practical to kill myself, but it was the only way. Things have happened, things you don't want to know about (trust me.) But I want to clear stuff up, I'm not a whore and I love you. I hope you saw that picture and treasure it. When I'm in heaven - or hell - I will always remember you. You have made my life so much more bearable. Wherever I am now, I'm with Anna. I really am sorry, but continue with your life.
Sincerely,
Annie Cresta
P. S. Here's a quote I want to remember, "Life sucks," and remember that colors mean stuff.
Finnick held the letter against his heart and let the tears flow. "Annie."
Beyond that lot, a girl's soul separated from her body and climbed out of its cage. The soul's bright red hair and emerald eyes were brighter than the ones in the body. More vivid and more alive. The soul - unlike the body - was wearing a bright white dress. White the color of snow and life and passion and kindness, and the body below wore a black one. Black for death and trauma but also for the darkness of the night - and the comfort it brings.
The soul stood up fully, and her red hair streamed around her. She looked behind her at the golden boy huddled over her former body clutching a sheet of paper. And turned toward the sky where another soul, one who almost looked her - red hair and emerald eyes - gathered the first soul into a hug.
The second soul smiled at her. "Annie, you're here," the she said to the first soul. She did sense the anchor that soul's blood to the boy. He kept her tethered to the earth. "You have to learn to let go, Annie. Give that boy one last look, but don't worry. You'll watch him for heaven. Annie, are you ready to leave?"
The first soul gave one last look at the boy, the boy who loved her and said, "Yes. I am ready to leave."
A/N: Ok, I totally stole the idea of jumping off a building and meeting from jumping off w building there from All the Bright Places and so ahead, sue me.
Note: Annie's illness isn't schizophrenia, but she suffers from hallucinations and is withdrawn from the world at times. Her illness hasn't been really described or pinpointed yet, but it takes parts from other mental illnesses. (Also, I'm so if I got some stuff wrong, Wikipedia can only do so much introduction to psychology.)
Triggers: Teen alcohol, mentions of drugs and sex (but the protags don't do it,) suicide, mild swearing