hey guys, thanks for reading my story. so basically i know everyone says this and its super annoying but could you pleeease review because i really need advice and stuff on my writing and i want to know what you guys think to make it better. thanks, sorry to nag. oh and to the person asking about my old story...yeah i think i deleted it or something :/ i don't know, sorry if you liked it. anyway, here's the next chapter :)
Lights flash in front of me, and microphones are shoved right under my nose. Cameramen jostle to get my best angle. It's the time of year when they all have an excuse to interview me, and everyone wants a piece of Finnick Odair. I manage to pull away, saying something about talking to Talia. I go through the side entrance to the Justice Building, and walk along the corridors until a familiar voice calls out my name.
I turn, and try to hide my shock at what Mirima looks like up close. Her face contorts into what I presume to be a smile, but it looks more like a grimace. "Finnick!" She drawls, "It's been too long, honey."
"Not that long if I remember correctly." I mutter.
She gives a high pitched giggle, "Yes, I remember that night, after the masquerade ball. You were a very naughty boy, Finn!"
I grunt in return, unsuccessfully trying to erase that memory from my mind. "Look, I have to go find my tributes, if you'll excuse me." I turn to walk away, but not before she can give me a big, wet kiss on my cheek.
"I'll see you on the train, honey." She turns and walks away, her heels clacking against the marble floor. I wipe the smudge of lipstick from my face and turn around, shuddering.
I reach the room that Lyra always waits for me in. She sees me at the door and runs over to hug me. "It's ok. It's ok. You're safe for another year." I say. I can feel her nodding. "You just be good for dad ok? Don't listen to any of his bull. I'll be back before you know it."
She wipes away her tears and says, "Just be careful, Finn. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."
"I know. Me too"
The first meal on the train is…awkward… to say the least. Mirima babbles on about how exciting a new group of tributes is, and how dull the Capitol has been since last year. Talia never speaks much, only to offer advice to tributes. But we mutually decided the first day is enough for a tribute to process, without having instructions thrown at you too. Our male tribute, Dmitri, only communicates in shrugs and grunts. He has the broad shoulders and hard hands of a fisherman-his strength will help him in the arena. However he has no distinguishable personality, so that will be trouble regarding sponsors.
Then there's Annie. She constantly catches me staring at her, but looks away immediately. She hasn't spoken a word to anyone. I just want to talk to her. I'm not sure what about, but I just want to.
My chance comes later that night. As usual, I am awoken by screams of murdered children, the ghostly face of my mother's corpse and the emotionless eyes of Snow. I wander through the carriages, in only my pyjamas. Occasionally I am stopped by concerned attendants but I just brush them off. I go to where I always go when I'm on this train. In the last carriage, the ceiling is entirely made of glass, and you can see right into the sky. No one ever goes there because there are no chairs or tables, but I don't mind sitting on the floor. It's perfect.
I open the door, only to be shocked by who I find sitting there. Annie has her legs crossed and her back against the wall and is staring up through the ceiling. She sees me and smiles. Just like before, she has a cigarette in one hand.
I sit down beside her. "You know, I hear those things can give you cancer." I say concerned. She looks at me weirdly and says, "Like I'll live long enough to get cancer." She doesn't even speak with remorse, only as if it is a fact. It hits me like a punch in the stomach. All the same, she stubs out the end and flicks it away.
Sighing, she places her head back against the wall. She looks just as beautiful as last night. I can see in the dim light of the carriage how her nose slightly turns up at the end and her eyes are such a vibrant shade of green. Her features are not conventionally pretty, like what is desirable in the Capitol. That idea, of perfection, in the Capitol, just makes them all look the same, like perfect, plastic dolls. Annie's features are not perfect, but they fit together to make something better. Her face is more natural and warm to what I am used to. Maybe that's why I am so attracted to her.
I realise I should probably say something. "You're right. I does make you feel small." I follow her gaze up to the ceiling. Against the dark night sky, an infinite number of stars are cradled by darkness. We sit there, marvelling at it, until Annie says quietly, "Do you believe in it? Fate I mean. How the stars control our destiny?"
Again, it's a strange statement, but I can't help but wonder. Sure, I've grown up hearing stories of how men have no control over their lives, and some predestined course leads them. But having gone through everything I've been through, I find it hard to believe there is some bigger plan for us all, because even destiny cannot cause an individual so much pain.
But I say none of this to Annie. Instead I ask, "Do you?"
"No." She says, surprising me. She stretches out her legs and then pulls them up to her chest. "I believe in myself. I chose my path. Just me."
I nod. Then another thought passes me. "Annie…did anyone come to say good bye to you?" I remember how silent the crowd was when she was chosen. Her face is turned away from me and I'm scared I've taken a step too far. I open my mouth to apologise but she interrupts me.
"No. No one came." There are a few moments pause before she continues. "I never met my father. I have no brothers or sisters. My mother…" She trails off, but starts up again, "My mother has manic depression. She's fine and then she has one of her episodes…I'm the only one who can bring her back. She's sedated most of the time. I don't have friends because all of my time revolves around my mother. She didn't come today because Reapings always set her off. I never even got to say goodbye."
She turns to face me, her eyes full of sadness. I realise my face is frozen, and I manage to stutter, "I-I'm so sorry." I feel like an idiot even as I say it.
She shrugs and then says, "Well, I guess it's easier because there is almost no one who will miss me." I think she meant it as a joke but her voice cracks at the end.
I know I should say it. It's hanging in the air and I'm just sitting there like a moron as she stares at me. I think she expects me to say it too as she stares at me. But I'm a coward. I'm too scared to admit what I'm thinking because saying it out loud would make it real and if it is real it will just complicate everything and cause so much pain. So I say nothing.
After what seems like forever, she looks away and stands up. Slowly she walks to the door and without turning to look at me, she says softly, "Goodnight Finnick."
She walks out before I can answer and the door swings shut. I carry on staring at the spot she was just standing and I say it. "I'll miss you."
Nice one, Finnick. You idiot.
