Two

"What?" I grasp her tightly by the shoulders. "What did you say?" All confusion at her sudden appearance is gone, replaced by a new kind of emotion: fear. If they're going to kill Angel, then somehow it makes me feel vulnerable too.

"They… they want me… they want me for the Hunger Games."

Her eyes are big and wide now, pleading.

"What Hunger Games?" I demand. "It's been eleven years since the last one! They're gone! Have you been having nightmares and sleepwalking? Because you're supposed to be in District Two!"

"Must… not… return… there…" she chokes. "Please, Finnick. Help me… Do it for… for your mother… she voted against… For your… your father… who would've voted no too… Please. You… you're a good man, Finnick. Help me."

"Why should I?" I ask. "You show up out of nowhere and plead for my help? What's all this for the Hunger Games and voting?" Fury has chased all fear from my system, leaving behind is humongous roar that engulfs my body. "Forget it," I snap.

"Please…" Her voice is so weak now.

"Give me one good reason why I should," I tell her.

"Because your father would've wanted you to," she replies without hesitation. "Your father would've done this… don't make the wrong choice, Finnick. If you did, his sacrifice would've been for nothing."

"Leave the subject of my father alone!" I yell. "Who are you, you creep? You follow me around, nearly kill me with a trident, you… Leave me alone!"

I storm off into the village, not looking back.

"Who were you talk to?"

So my mother was watching. "No one," I reply.

"I saw someone," I mumble. "That was it."

"What did they want?" I've never seen my mother so angry before. When she became angry, she tended to go mad.

"I dunno," I say. "Something about voting, the Hunger Games, and there's people after her."

My mother's face immediately pales. "Oh, no."

Without a word, she rushes out the door, into the pouring rain. "Hey!" I cry after her, but she doesn't look back.

Minutes later, she returns, carrying Angel in her arms. Shooting me a disapproving glance, she quickly hops upstairs and disappears.

I cradle my head on the kitchen table, not care that I'm sopping wet and destroying my mother's perfect, flawless, clean kitchen. Great. The freak staying here with us.

Why does my mother want her anyways?

So I sit there in agony until I hear my mother coming down the stairs. I dare to peek out from a crack in my arms and find her sitting down right next to me.

"You and I need to have a long talk," she says. I nod, because what else can I do? "Let's start with when you first met this girl."

"Four years ago," I mumble. "She nearly killed me with a trident."

My mother raises her eyebrows in shock. "Why didn't you tell me that?" she asks, angry. "Finnick! I've lost my husband. I don't want to lose a son, too! Who else do I have?"

"I'm obviously still alive," I state.

"Yes, but it'll be no use to me if you're just going to sit there and watch an innocent girl die! She's only thirteen! She has a lot of life to live out!"

"It'll be no use if you don't tell me anything that's going on!" I yell. Great. The Talk has turned into a Fight.

"I do tell you!" my mother has tears in her eyes now, and her brown hair seems to have lost their shine. "I tell you everything!

What haven't I told you?"

"You haven't told me about my father."

It's cold. I know. But my mother has never mentioned my father a lot. And as of today, he has been dead for eleven years. It's a tricky subject to talk about, especially today, and I can feel my mother's fury.

"He died, alright?" she yells. "He's dead, and he's not coming back! He left me alone with you! Are you happy now?"

"How did he die?" I demand. "You've never told me that. Or the rebellion. Or anything, for that matter!"

My mother takes a shaky breath. "If I must…"

"Tell me," I say.

There's silence for a while, but my mother finally begins. "You know of the rebellion. The second rebellion, that is. Our Mockingjay, Katniss Everdeen, lead us into success towards overthrowing the Capitol. But for that, she needed an army.

"Finnick… Finnick went. During a muttation attack, he died defending Katniss and the rest of her squad from the mutts. I hope you're happy now, son."

The truth hits me hard. I've always assumed that my father was killed in combat. Never… I've never thought that he was chewed on by a handful of mutts. Suddenly I find my fingers clutching the chair, and my breaths come in gasps.

"What did that girl say about the voting?" I demand.

My mother purses her lips. "That's a different story."

"Tell me!"

My mother takes another deep breath. "If I explain this, will you leave the subject of this alone?"

"Yes," I agree eagerly. "Tell me!"

She closes her eyes for a moment, then opens them again. In a flat tone, she says, "There was this idea for a final Hunger Games. Only, instead of the children of the districts, it would be for the children of the Capitol. And we had to vote on it, the seven remaining victors of the Hunger Games. Katniss Everdeen. Peeta Mellark. Johanna Mason. Haymitch Abernathy. Beetee Changeling. Enobaria Wenfill. Me."

"What happened?" I whisper. The idea, it's so preposterous, so cruel, that I don't even want to hear about it. But I must. I've been living in the dark for way too long. It's time to step into the light of truth… but sometimes, the truth hurts. Like now.

"Peeta, Beetee, and I voted no. Katniss, Johanna, and Enobaria voted yes. It was all down to Haymitch Abernathy to decide the fate of the children of the Capitol.

"He said four words. Four words that changed our future…"

My eyes grow wide and I find myself staring into my mother's eyes. Suddenly, I find myself in them, exploring the darkness of her past…

"Since my colleagues and I can come to no consensus, it has been agreed that we will let the victors decide. A majority of four will approve the plan. No one may abstain from the vote," says President Alma Coin of District Thirteen. "What has been proposed is that in lieu of eliminating the entire Capitol population, we have a final, symbolic Hunger Games, using the children directly related to those who held the most power."

I find myself staring at her, unable to register her words. What? Another Hunger Games? Didn't we have enough of that already? It's the Games itself that took my Finnick away from me!

"What?" asks Johanna Mason in exclamation, echoing my thoughts.

"We hold another Hunger Games using Capitol children," Coin replies evenly.

"Are you joking?" asks Peeta Mellark.

"No," says Coin. "I should also tell you that if we do hold the Games, it will be known it was done with your approval, although the individual breakdown of your votes will be kept secret for your own security."

Yes, sounds very safe to me. Joy, I'll spend the rest of my life in silence, kept safe by the mere thought of Coin keeping our decisions secret… that was sarcastic, in case if you didn't catch that.

"Was this Plutarch's idea?" Haymitch asks angrily.

"It was mine," says Coin. "It seemed to balance the need for vengeance with the least loss of life. You may cast your votes."

That woman is crazy. She is. To host another Hunger Games; the idea is despicable. Absolutely unthinkable.

"No!" Peeta cries, banging his fists on the table. He hasn't recovered fully from hijacking, but knows enough to a) not kill Katniss and b) understand that lives are at stake. I suddenly find myself liking the baker's son more and more. "I vote no, of course! We can't have another Hunger Games!"

"Why not?" Johanna retorts. "It seems very fair to me. Snow even has a granddaughter. I vote yes."

"So do I," says Enobaria, a jerk from District Two. "Let them have a taste of their own medicine."

"This is why we rebelled!" Peeta yells, looking around at us. His bright blue eyes lock onto mine. "Annie?"

"I vote no with Peeta," I say shakily. "So would Finnick… if he were here."

Finnick. They took away my Finnick. The Capitol might be cruel, but… is it the children's fault? They didn't ask for the Hunger Games. Now I'm just tearing them away from whatever hopes they have for another future…

"But he isn't, because Snow's mutts killed him," Johanna tells me. I want stand up and punch her in the face, but I'm no longer the Annie Cresta who has won the 70th Hunger Games. I'm now the weak, crippled Annie Cresta, with no strength, no power, and no Finnick. I just find sobs racking and consuming my body, leaving no happiness inside.

"No," says Beetee. "It would set a bad precedent. We have to stop viewing one another as enemies. At this point, unity is essential for our surival. No."

"We're down to Katniss and Haymitch," says Coin."

Katniss thinks for a while before answering. When she does, her voice is dry, like she's been eating sandpaper. "I vote yes… for Prim."

"Haymitch, it's up to you," says Coin. Please say no, I think. Please. The future of these children… they depend on your ability to say no!

Then Haymitch speaks, and his voice is filled with sorrow. In a solemn tone, he says, "I'm with the Mockingjay."

"I'm with the Mockingjay," I repeat in horror.

My mother nods, tears pooling around her eyes. A single drop rolls down her cheek, and she catches it in her tongue. "Salt water," she sighs. "Just like Finnick and his array of water at command."

"It was four against three," I say quietly. "You mean, in other words, the Games were about to happen."

"Only they never did," my mother says softly. "We were all waiting, you see. The youngest tribute was only two when we caught her. So we had to wait for her to turn older, but on the night of her ninth birthday, she escaped."

I gasp. Our distant conversation comes back to me…

"How old are you?"

"Seven."

"Nine! Ha, I'm older than you!"

Angel's face swims into my view before being blurred into my mother's eyes once more. The truth hits me hard.

"You mean…" I swallow hard before continuing, "the girl… she's the escaped tribute of the Seventy-Sixth Hunger Games?"

Alright. Again, the thing wouldn't save so I'm putting comments in the Word document. Thank you for the first reviews, Hahukum Konn and d1996, and everyone who read it! ^.^ Yayz.

Hmm… looks like it's another cliffhanger, right? Don't you worry… don't you worry… Hehe.