Finnick walked along the water's edge with his toes dragging in the muddy sand. For the past few months, he had not been able to sleep. Not since Annie was reaped. Of course, he'd slept a few hours here and there, but he'd never slept straight through the night. He would wake from nightmares of Annie's sufferings while sweating and clutching the blankets around him. Not even when he was trapped in the arena had he had such vibrant dreams. He continued down the sandy path with no companion but his thoughts. He had always wanted to take Annie with him on his nightly walks but felt awful for waking her at such a time of the night. Before the Games, he would have snuck down to her house and crept through her bedroom window. She would be waiting for him, eyes wide open, and they would cuddle into bed together to sleep through the night. Since she returned, her father had tightened the locks to increase the feel of security. Finnick, unfortunately, just felt more and more alone. They'd been separated for only two months before she returned. But since then, there was little contact. Something different between them that made it difficult to go back to normal. Finnick did feel more inclined to protect Annie: both physically and mentally. Her mind seemed more unsettled these days, and only he could understand what she really felt. He knew Annie felt more attached to him as well; he was her cling to sanity. Finnick kicked a rock to the side and looked out into the sea. On a far off rock was a multi-colored beach towel covered in patterns of shells. He recognized it immediately as Annie's. But there was no Annie to be found. The towel had not been there fifteen minutes ago when he'd looked before.

"Annie?" he called out. There was no response.

Something felt very wrong. He saw her sandals sprawled on the dock and a hair-tie next to them. Something was very, very wrong. He approached the dock and flung his shirt over his head, kicking off his shoes. Finnick remembered Annie's father telling him, "If you see her, don't let her near the water." His explanation seemed logical enough, but Finnick knew there was no way to keep a District 4 girl like Annie away from the ocean. He cursed himself. If he'd attempted to have more contact with Annie, maybe she'd have asked him to go with her. She could be drowning. She could be trying to find herself. Finnick shook his head. The water was a beautiful, but dangerous, place.

"Annie!" he called again, this time with desperation in his tone.

Crickets chirped in response before Finnick dove far into the ocean. His legs propelled him almost ten feet away from the dock. His arms curved into the waves, and his legs sliced the water as he sped the distance. Only years of teaching himself to swim could have revealed the sharp swimmer's muscles that rippled in his abdomen. His mind pounded and his thoughts screamed only for Annie. He reached the rock but found nothing.

"Annie?" he panted.

Without hesitation, he dove deeper into the salt water and forced his eyes open.