Chapter 1: The Beginning
An 11 year old Finnick Odair sat on the edge of his parent's dock, struggling to untie the knot in his fishing net, dreading the moment that his father came home. At the end of each work day was the worst; he never knew what to expect, whether his father's work day had went well or not, because if it hadn't, Finnick knew to stay away. More importantly, however, this morning, his father had left him with a net full of knots, telling him that if all of them weren't undone by the time he got home from work, he would be very angry. Finnick was terrified, obviously; he barely made it out of the last time his dad was just angry.
He'd undone a fair amount of knots, but this one just wouldn't come undone. Be patient, Finnick, he thought, if you're not patient, how will this ever work? As minutes passed and the knot still wouldn't budge, his hands began to tremble. What if it won't untie? How will I ever make it out of the Hunger Games alive? How will I make it through the DAY alive?, he thought to himself. He tossed the net aside and put his head in his hands. I won't have to worry about the Hunger Games if my dad kills me first, he thought.
He laid down on the scalding hot dock and closed his eyes. He still remembered the pain from the last time he failed to do as his father had asked; even if he didn't remember it, he had the scars running down his spine to prove it. Each time his father got angry and lashed out at Finnick, his mother had hidden in the shadows, too scared to upset his dad, too scared to help her son. Finnick knew it wasn't fair, what was happening to them. But who was he going to tell? James Odair, the handsome, friendly fisherman, would never hurt anyone, much less his own son. After all, his catches were the ones that the Capitol favoured, and because of that, the Odair name had always been highly respected. He curled his fingers into a fist until he could feel the nails digging into his skin. If only they knew.
The young boy sighed in frustration, knowing that no matter how much he wished his father would be put to justice, it wouldn't help him undo these knots. It would be much better, for both him and his mother, if he just did as his father asked and didn't say anything. He sat up and reached for the net, wishing that he'd been born into another family, raised with a different name. He didn't see what the point in undoing these knots was, anyway. If, by some stroke of chance, did Finnick's name happen to be drawn in the Reaping next year, there wasn't any reason for him to make it out of the Games alive. What kind of life waited for him, back here in District 4? It'd be a lot less painful to just die in the Games, rather than to come back to this house, with a coward for a mother and an asshole for a father. Undoing these knots made it seem like he actually cared about surviving, when in fact the opposite was true.
He sat there, relentlessly attacking this knot and wishing that it would just undo already so he could move on to the next one. It was probably around lunch time by now, and that meant his father would be home in 6 hours or so. He'd only undone about 12 of the 200 knots that were on this net, and that meant that he was screwed. There was no way he could finish this.
He tossed the net behind him, closing his eyes and putting his feet in the ocean below him. He sat like that, propped up by his arms, lost in the sound and feel of the ocean surrounding him. He could have possibly stayed like that forever, had a young girl not quietly snuck up behind him and picked up the net. He sighed in frustration, determined to just get the stupid knot out so he could spare himself the grief later, when he turned to reach for the net and screamed.
"What the hell are you doing here?," he yelled, taking his feet out of the water and jumping onto the dock. "This is a private dock, who gave you permission to be here?"
The young girl didn't even look up; she had already undone the knot that Finnick had had so much difficulty with, and was already starting the next one. For some reason, the young girl looked strangely familiar, but he couldn't quite place where he knew her from.
"Hello?" he asked again. "Did you not hear me clearly enough? Why are you here?"
The girl looked up at him, squinting as though the sight of him was blinding her. She regarded him carefully, stood up, and threw the net at him. She then turned on her heel and walked away.
Finnick was dumbstruck. "Hello? You haven't answered my question! You can't just creep up behind someone on their private dock and expect them to let it go," he yelled after her. "HELLO? ARE YOU DEAF?"
She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. "No, I'm Annie. And you're Finnick, right?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips. She paused when he didn't answer. "Did your parents ever tell you it's rude to yell at a girl?"
"Did yours ever tell you that it's punishable by law to trespass?" he countered. "Why are you even here, anyway?" And then it hit him where he knew this girl from. This was Annie Cresta, daughter of the local baker, Marcus Cresta. He vaguely remembered his father telling his mother to expect a visit from a Cresta today, seeing as he had requested an order of spice-infused rolls to be sent as a special order to Finnick's house for today. Who would send their daughter as the deliverer, though?
"You're avoiding the problem at hand," she answered, waving her hand dismissively at him, "you yelled at a girl. Have you no sense of etiquette? Especially considering I undid the simple knot that you had such difficulty undoing yourself," she added.
"First off-," he begun, but then stopped abruptly. Wait. How did she know that he couldn't undo the knot? "How long have you been watching me for?" he demanded.
This caught her off guard, but only momentarily. "It doesn't matter. The point is that you're the son of a fisherman, and can't undo a knot. How will you ever survive in the Games?"
He desperately wanted to tell this girl that it didn't matter, because if he were ever chosen to participate in the Games, he wouldn't want to survive anyway. But he barely knew this girl. Sure, they'd probably seen each other a couple of times, but it wasn't nearly enough to start telling this girl his life story. He knew better than to let others get the best of him. How does that explain what you let your father do to you?, he thought to himself.
"I still have another year until they even consider me, and that's more than enough time to learn how to undo a knot," he said instead. "But that's still not answering the question. Why are you here? I know you had to deliver something to my dad, but as you can see he's at work, and the normal thing to do would've been to leave the delivery here and then go back home. Why did you come back here, to my private dock?"
At this, he noticed the girl blush and quickly look away. "I wanted to see if anyone was home," she said defensively. "And besides; you should be thanking me. It probably would've taken you years to undo that knot if it weren't for me."
This angered him, even if it were true. Who was she to pretend that she was better than him, when she barely even knew him? "I don't need to thank you for anything. I was doing just fine on my own."
At this, Annie smiled. A thought then occurred to him: she's very beautiful when she smiles. He was alarmed by this, quickly burying the thought deep in the recesses of his mind. "I'm going to take that as a thank you. And don't worry, one day you can repay me for my kind actions," she added sarcastically, starting towards the gate she had come through.
Like hell, he thought, but out loud he replied, "Yeah, right, you're lucky I don't sue you for trespassing."
When she got to the gate, she turned and smirked at him. "You're not nearly as lovely as all the girls say you are. Makes me wonder if they have as much seaweed in their brains as you do in yours," she said, turning to open the gate. "One day, you're going to need me, Finnick Odair, and I'm not sure if I'll help you even if you don't yell at me for it next time." With that, she opened the gate and slammed it shut, letting the sound reverberate as she walked away.
"I'll never need your help, not even if the sky fell," he called after her. But he wasn't so sure himself.
Don't you see, Annie? I've loved you since that very first day. You've stepped on my heart. You've made me cry. But I will always love you. Maybe if I never met you, my heart wouldn't hurt this much, but I'm glad I did. It almost makes the pain go away. Almost.
I'm so tired, Annie. But I can't let you go. Not yet.
