Chapter 03

Annie hadn't realised it until then, how very much Finnick meant to her, not until there was a chance of him never coming back. Her heart was always racing in her chest, knowing that in just a few days, he could be gone forever. Taken from this world. His laughter would never be heard again, and he would never make fun of her again. In a short few days, there could possibly be no more Finnick Odair in this world. And the more Annie thought about it, she realised that wasn't a world she wanted to live in. Because a world without Finnick was a world of loneliness a world filled with sorrow. It was a world where Annie didn't have her best friend, the one person who brought out the very best in her.

In the beginning, Annie was glued to the TV, desperate for any sign of Finnick, giving her the reassurance that he was still alive. Only when going to school were her eyes not transfixed to the wooden box in her family's living room. At the first ring, signalling that school was out for the day, Annie sprinted back to her house, only to sit there, eyes glued to the screen, all the while keeping her fingers busy. And in the first few days, she had already finished two nets, and was working a third. One night, the night of the parade, it was the first night she put down her hands, giving them rest, her fingertips sore from working on the rough threads. Because there he was, more beautiful than ever before, his bronze hair seemingly gold in the lights reflecting in his golden locks. And he was dressed, mainly, in a fish net, which would never have caught a single fish, ever, due to its many holes. Yes, he was beautiful, but to Annie, this was all wrong. It wasn't Finnick. The Capitol was turning him into something he wasn't. And the worst part? Finnick seemed to be enjoying the attention. That night, Annie turned off the TV and went to sit by her tree until the moon had risen high up in the sky.

The remaining days until the games started, Annie wasn't watching, even if viewing was mandatory. Because she couldn't handle the fake façade Finnick had created of himself. Of course, it was all for his own benefit, and the crowd was eating it up. They loved him. It was all part of his play to get him sponsors, and he was succeeding. But Annie couldn't watch. She couldn't watch without it ruining the memory of her best friend. So instead her father would come in to her room at bedtime, and tell her how he was.
"Annie?"
"I'm awake," she had replied that first night.
"The scores came out today. Don't you want to know how he did?" her father had asked. Did she want to know? Of course she did. And so she had turned around in her bed, looked her father straight in the eye, and awaited horrible news.
"He got a 10, Annie." Those were words she hadn't expected, but words she was grateful to hear. That night was the first night in a very long time that she slept, and instead of nightmares, she dreamt of Finnick waving at the crowd, wearing one the nets she had made, instead of the one fashioned in the Capitol.

Mandatory viewing. All the kids had even been given the day off from school, all to ensure that every single person was sat in front of their screens at home, or in the square, all for everyone to watch the start of the games. The bloodbath. Annie had begged and begged her mother to be let out, to escape to her tree on the beach, only to be commanded to stay inside and watch. If she were caught outside, ignoring Capitol orders, there was no telling what might happen to her. Punishment, sure, but what kind? No one could possibly know. So Annie stayed and watched. She watched the tributes rise up from the ground, their bewildered expressions as they tried taking in their surroundings. There was plenty of water, to Finnick's benefit, and also woods. Annie felt her stomach churning uncomfortably as the sixty seconds counted down, seeing close up of her best friend's face as he scanned the area around the Cornucopia. She could see the trident, just as Finnick caught sight of it as well, a determination crossing his tanned features.
"No," Annie muttered to herself. "Don't be stupid, Finn, run." It never ended well for those running in there, she had seen kids die every year. A loud ring filled the arena and chaos erupted immediately. Kids running, screaming, but Annie focused solely on Finnick as he ran towards the trident. But what he didn't see, while Annie saw it clearly, was the male tribute from district 1, headed straight towards him, sword held high. It all happened to fast, Finnick reaching his trident, spinning around just in time for the three spikes on his trident to impale the other boy, blood bursting out of his mouth, splattering all over Finnick's face. And Annie heaved, the vomit sprayed across the floor as black darkness overwhelmed her. Her best friend had just made his first kill in the arena.

From that day on, Annie refused to watch the games. Not only because of its brutality and cruelty, but also because she couldn't stand watching Finnick, the sweet and funny boy she had grown to care for, kill anyone else. Or worse, be killed himself. That was something she would never be able to face, seeing the bright green of his eyes disappear. So every day, she hid by her tree, trying her nets until the sun went down, and when she came home, she crawled into bed, staring at a dark spot in her wooden ceiling, Finnick's net in her hands as she waited for her father. At midnight he would open the door, just wide enough for her to see his face. And he would nod, signalling that Finnick had made it through another day. But every night as the door creaked open, she was dreading that this night, her father would shake his head instead. Those thoughts haunted her nightmares. Her father coming in, slowly shaking his head. And every night she would wake up, drenched in her own sweat, only to realise that it was all her own mind playing tricks on her. Finnick was still alive. And he was fighting. He was fighting for a promise made. His promise to come back home. His promise to come back to district 4, back home to Annie.

"Annie, come in. Quick." It was Annie's mother calling for her, and Annie couldn't quite place her tone. So she pulled herself to her feet, shuffling slowly through the chilled afternoon sand. "Annie, I said quick," her mother scolded her, and Annie rolled her eyes as she ran back to the house. The TV was on, of course, and the anthem was playing. Weird, it wasn't midnight yet. Her green gaze stayed fixed on the bright screen, her mind attempting to process what was going on. Finnick was standing along, his trident dripping with blood, a look of utter relief on his face. He looked weary, so unlike the Finnick she had said goodbye to, so unlike her best friend. Even his eyes were different, the sea green colour replaced by a dark grey. And as she stood, transfixed on his face, realisation hit her like the blow of a mason to her gut. She didn't need the words coming from her parents, but she did need to utter the words out loud, to herself.

"Finn is coming home."