Annie stares up at the chandelier that rises high above her head. The room is sparkling, crystalline and perfect. The chatter in the room has been bothering her all night. Cali, that dress is so perfect on you! Oh, Lucius, you're too much, thank you sweetie! Giggles and shouts, whispers and cries. But Annie is solely focused on the chandelier. She drops the glass she's holding, full of some nasty-smelling beverage. It crashes to the floor and shatters, and the magenta fluid within spills all over the floor. It made a high-pitched tinkling sound followed by a crash, which is why conversation has stopped and everyone is looking at her. But she doesn't care. She's staring at the chandelier.
Menacing points glare down at her, harsh light reflecting everywhere across the room. Spikes—or are they diamonds—wink from the side of the piece, threatening her.
Everything seems to remind her of the game nowadays.
She shrieks, covering her ears and sliding out of her chair and crumpling to the floor. The crowd stares at her. Avoxes sweep in, quickly cleaning up the mess and disappearing, not leaving a trace of their presence. Not a spot is left on the floor.
"Come, Cali," says the man who complimented Calpurnia on her dress earlier in the party. They sweep out, and many follow them. No one wants to be left alone with Annie the mad girl. Very few call her a victor. Everyone knew she just won by luck, by being the best swimmer. In an average Capitolite's eyes, this is weak.
Only Finnick Odair knows how strong she really is.
"C'mon, Finn," she smiles, a wave knocking her over. The ocean makes her sane—well, as sane as she's going to get. What she calls "The Imaginaries" still talk to her, but not as frequently. "I said, come on!"
Finnick dives into the next wave, his lithe body streamlined. He knows that he's attractive, and he knew how many girls wanted him, but he has only eyes for Annie. He pushes himself onto the great rock that juts out over the ocean. It is gray; smooth from the hundreds and thousands of years it had been crashed onto by the waves, and huge, warmed by the sun. Finn lies down, chameleon-like, and just soaks in the sun. Ah, he thinks, I could stay here for the rest of my life. Something cold and small snuggles up against him. He opened one eye. "Annie! You're not supposed to be up here!" If she has a seizure or decided to plunge onto the rocks, below, she would die. "Come on, I'll get you down."
"No, I want to stay," she smiles, "the Imaginaries want me up here." Oh, no. He carries her down—he is tall and strong from years of work on the fishing crews and from pure genetic advantage, and she's tiny and bony. He had climbed down the rock many times before; he could do it carrying Annie. Once they got down safely, he holds her by the shoulders. "Annie, you have to promise me you'll never go back up there, okay?"
"Okay," she smiles pleasantly. It was getting worse. She could truly go insane one day. That is, if she isn't already.
He carries her back to the city and took her to Annie's parents' house. They know him, and let him in as soon as they see his handsome face at the door.
"Come in, Finnick," frowns Ria as soon as she saw Annie in Finnick's arms, blabbering mindlessly about her imaginaries. "You know, Finnick, when they told me to climb the rocks, it made perfect sense, even though I know I'm not allowed to." Annie remarks conversationally.
Ria butts in. "Annie, you have remember: never climb on the rocks. Okay?"
Annie nods, smiling sweetly. "Okay!"
Ria caught Finnick's eye. This wasn't good. Her schizophrenia was never easy to deal with, but it was getting worse.
Annie waits for the next batch of tributes to come. As Mariella, the escort leads them in; Annie recognizes the type at once. Trained Careers. Usually making a vicious, scathing remark about another tribute, but always bragging. Oh, the bragging was endless. "I'm brilliant with swordplay." "I'm a great shot in archery." "I can throw knives like nobody's business." Constantly trying to outdo each other. They resented Annie, and Annie could tell. It didn't matter. They would all be dead in a couple weeks, no matter how good they were.
Of course, she was right. They were both disposed of in the first two weeks. Katniss Everdeen won, and that was that.
When they showed the clips of the boy from 2 being eaten alive, she screamed. She had nightmares for weeks, after that day.
"Welcome, welcome…" Aria Heavensbee drones on and on. She was given the prestigious position of District 4 escort, not because of her skill, but because her father, Plutarch Heavensbee Sr. is influential in the Capitol. Everyone knows it.
Finnick is not religious, but he sends quick prayer into heaven, just in case. Mainly for Annie: he doesn't care so much about his own preservation. He has a fighting chance, unlike her.
"Our female tribute…" oh please oh please oh please, "Danielle Montgomery!"
Danielle is a shy, sweet girl who Finnick knows from school. She would die quickly.
"I volunteer," a cry goes up from the crowd. The girl steps forward, jogging to the stage. Her hair is tied in a high ponytail, and Finnick can see the gleam of arrogance in her green eyes. "My name is Alexa Steel, and I am the victor of the 65th Hunger Games!"
Aria blabbers away, and finally reaches her hand in the huge glass bowl filled with slips of paper. Now, I can pray for myself. "Finnick Odair!"
Somehow, he doesn't panic. He decides to play arrogant, cool, and cocky. Finnick struts up to the stage and unbuttons on of the buttons on his shirt, revealing perfect tan skin. As much as he hates it, he knows he can use his body to gain sponsors. Sex appeal, although petty, does the trick. He could often use it to get what he wanted even before he entered the games, especially when it came to girls. (Or even boys, occasionally.)
"No volunteers? What a shame," tuts Aria. Finnick turns to Alexa to shake her hand. When they make eye contact, Alexa scowls. Finnick's smirk only grows wider.
Annie, eat something, it instructs her. She's used to obeying orders, so asks for food. It's promptly delivered like everything here in the Capitol, and she eats it. She's not really hungry, but the Imaginaries told her, so she does it. Things didn't go well last time she—
Blood. So much blood everywhere. Sticky, gooey, dripping from cabinets in her prettyohsopretty mansion. Dotted with blood, a note. A note that says—
She shuts her eyes tightly and puts her hands over her ears. She has to block it out or it will consume her.
She's not sure if she's been consumed yet.
He knows what he'll be forced to do. Snow is in his house, and he's heard the rumors. He will be forced—
Oh, he knew it from the start, as soon as he was reaped.
"Finnick, I have some… clients for you," says President Snow. The next night, he finds the man with the green tie. His love has been bought at a cheap price.
"Annie, I have some… clients for you," the plastic, gaunt man says. "And bad things will happen to you if you don't obey." She knows what he wants, oh, she knows.
"No," she replies feebly.
His lips turn downwards. "What?"
"No!"
The next day, her family is there; lying in her room, blood gushing out of their bodies. Her old mother Ria, a blade in her chest. Her father, a bullet wound in his head. And a note with a simple message. You disobeyed.
Oh, she never disobeyed the Imaginaries after that.