Chapter Two

The crowd's reaction is something that is etched into my mind.

Never, in all the years I've watched the Games, have I witnessed District Four fall silent. To me, the silence is making me feel like laughing with happiness. Yet at the same time, I feel like I want to cry.

If nobody is cheering for Finnick and I, does that mean they have no faith in us? Or has my bold move shocked everyone into wordless, noiseless ghosts that are as still as the lake water when there is not a breath of wind to be found anywhere? Whatever the reason, I feel the crowd looking up at me with some sort of deep sympathy. This is so completely new to me, I can't process it through my mind.

Has what I've done in two short minutes already changed the way my District thinks and feels towards Tributes and the Games?

For this moment in time, when I am trapped under the gaze of cameras, I do not know. I glimpse myself on a large television screen and I look confused, but I am thankful that they keep the cameras trained on me long enough so I can smile and look pretty for the Capitol citizens watching the Reapings live.

We may not be in the arena yet, but the Games have certainly begun.

I don't know what my strategy is, but for now I know I need to look like the Career Tribute everybody expects from me. I straighten my back, broaden my shoulders and put on my best expressionless face. I don't need people analysing me the way I analyse everybody else, so I hide all of my emotions like so many times before and look almost dead, replacing the smile almost instantly.

I manage a quick glance to my male counterpart, and I have to say he looks absolutely terrified. I realise he feels the way I do about the Games, and I can almost hear the screaming that must be going on in his mind.

Still looking into the crowd for any sign of life, I find that even the McCarthy family have stopped their protests, because they know it is no use. They know they can't bring me back to our part of Four anymore, they know they're looking up at someone who is as good as dead.

As if their haunting gazes isn't enough, I feel the Capitol officials behind me looking at me with curious eyes. They'll be sitting there out of my sight on a raised platform, appraising me as if they're already placing bets. It's like Finnick and I are cattle, and they're searching for our strengths to put money on, and also drawing out our weaknesses to play on.

If Finnick is crying like I feel I am about to, they'll be putting that in their bejewelled notebooks.

"Come on, everybody! Just look at these wonderfully lucky Tributes! I know you're all jealous, but put that behind you and show them your whole-hearted support!" Nova startles me with her obnoxiously loud and affected accent. It sounds ridiculously high pitched and her words seem to infuriate me.

I just know I'll adore spending quality time with my escort.

But suddenly, it seems her words have rejuvenated District Four. They've breathed life back into a now stirring audience, and I suddenly feel somewhat worse as they start to cheer one by one for us. I feel worse for a lot of reasons, yet the most prominent are because they have started to look like the crowd I know from previous years, looking forward to this year's great event. The other reason both makes sense, and once again does not.

"I'm a Tribute." I think to myself.

It's haunting my mind. Everybody suddenly cheering wildly for me and Finnick is making the realisation of my decision come crashing into me, and the collision yet again knocks the air out of my lungs. Surely it is natural to feel sick to your stomach knowing in a few days I'll be brutally murdered? Yet it makes no sense at all that I willingly signed up for this. What was I thinking?

I manage to have a full on argument with myself in the time it takes for Nova to start attempting to calm the crowd.

"You are so completely idiotic." I lecture myself, "How could you willingly commit suicide by replacing somebody you've hated forever in a fight to the death?"

"Because nobody deserves to die. Not like this, at least. She may be insufferable, but looking at her just now? She was a girl. She finally understood what it means to be a Tribute. She is innocent, she doesn't need to die." I counter back.

"Oh, bravo. You're ever so smart, 'No one needs to die!' 'She's innocent!' and yet you sign yourself up to die. Fun!"

"I don't care. I have saved someone's life."

"By dying for another? Seriously, there are less dramatic ways to do that than be bludgeoned to death on TV."

"No, and who knows? I may win…the point of volunteering, me of all people, is to show everybody what really happens in the Games. The people that die aren't actors. They die. Families back home will never see them again, they will cry. They will mourn. They have to watch the murderer of their child come within 2 feet of them on the Victory Tour, and they have to pretend there are no hard feelings."

"But you aren't coming back!"

"I've got no one. May as well be me that dies than somebody people actually care for."

"But you could have stayed home, someone else may have volunteered."

"Yet no one else stepped forward except for me."

I realise how stupid I've been, arguing with myself over something I can't change. I'm a Tribute. There isn't one thing in Panem I can do to change my own decision.

As if on cue, Nova's sunshine coloured hair is wavering madly as she frantically runs about the stage, giggling in her silly, childish Capitol way, trying to shut the audience up. They are deafeningly loud, as if they are having a competition between the girls and the boys to support their Tribute more. I'd never thought I'd see the day when the popular girls from my class all banded together to give me a standing ovation that lasted far longer than anybody else's applause. All of the girls followed suit, they screamed my name affectionately and refused Peacekeeper's attempts to quiet them. They looked at me with some sort of envy and deep gratitude. However, for all I knew that envy could be mistaken as jealousy that I was standing next to Panem's new favourite supermodel teenager: Finnick Odair.

Huh, now that I listen closely, once my applause halted, half of the girls are falling over each other trying to get closer to Mr Odair, and are screaming his name as they go. It slightly disturbs me that boys were cheering for me in the same way too. I actually stopped and gave a quizzical look to all of them for Panem's population to see. I furrow my eyebrows and glare uncertainly at them, which unfortunately makes them cheer all the more for both of us. I let my guard down for a few moments in front of the camera, as my minor annoyance with the boys got the better of me. My comfort is that at least things are looking good sponsor-wise for us two up on the stage.

Glancing over at Finnick, I can hardly tell he's upset anymore. He must be an awfully good actor, but he has work to do on his eyes. He is blushing from the attention from all the girls, and his hand has sought the back of his head as he ruffles his bronze hair in such a way that I know it was out of habit. It isn't hard to see what everyone else saw: an incredibly stunning boy. Yet under that admittedly dazzling smile he's putting on, under the waving he gives to the crowd, his eyes hold so much pain I can almost feel my agonising death coming on. It may have been a trick of the light, but I am sure I saw a tear spill from between his lashes. It was gone by the next time I dared to check up on him.

I can tell the Capitol officials are getting bored of this constant cheering. However enthusiastic they may be towards the Games, I know for a fact they'd have preferred a bit more action instead of just watching children jump up and down for nearly ten minutes straight. Perhaps they have a feast to divulge in, or maybe a festivity celebrating the Reaping to attend. Whatever the reason, they make a habit of yawning every two seconds as Peacekeepers escort some of the most rambunctious members of the audience away.

I have to say, I am getting tired too. Tired of keeping up this façade, when really I just want to go into the privacy of the Justice Building and cry; cry as if there is no tomorrow. The irony is, soon there isn't going to be a tomorrow for me.

Finally, it is Nova who is becoming agitated. Although, despite my own tiredness I quite like the fact that they are doing anything they can to go against the wishes of the security. It is like a rebellion of sorts, only one that won't get their heads blown off. Yet as the camera crew look around at each other talking about how time is slipping away, Nova turns around -looking scary with her eyes twitching along with her creepy smile- and nearly slams mine and Finnick's faces together in an attempt to draw attention to the need to finish this year's Reaping.

This is the closest I have come to Finnick today, and it was strange how weird it felt to be standing next to someone so familiar, yet so elusive at the same time. There is the faint smell of the ocean about him which I find comforting. I also feel nauseous knowing that there is no doubt we'll be working together with the Careers to murder in a few days time. If we even make it that far.

"Ladies, gentlemen! Please may I have your full attention! I know I asked for applause but everyone must quieten down quickly! A shorter time at the Reaping means a shorter time to wait until the 65th Annual Hunger Games, after all!" Nova nearly screeches into her microphone.

I have to hand it to her though, between her luminous outfit and interesting voice, she really knows how to make silence fall on the waves of District Four.

"Thank you all for your appreciation, first of all!" she starts, commanding all attention once more, "Now, it brings me great joy once again to announce our two Tributes for this year's annual Hunger Games! Our lovely lady, Corella Maritza-" she gestures to my petite figure, like a shadow standing beside her blazing dress, "-and our strapping boy, Finnick Odair!"

Finnick gives a shy wave to the audience, while I stand there looking bewildered and overwhelmed.

"It is only right that our contestants this year shake hands in honour of good sportsmanship, a reputation that District Four has maintained throughout the years!"

I turn on my heels to the right, to face Finnick properly as Nova steps out of the way, so the cameras can get a shot of the latest victims. I know I am not prepared to look at someone who may kill me, but I can't resist the temptation.

He puts on his one-sided smile for me again, only this time it actually reaches his eyes despite me finding pain still present. In turn, I put on the smile I have been practising for nearly 3 years in total and bow my head in respect to him; a gesture which he mirrors flawlessly. I offer my hand and he takes it. Mine are pale and dainty in comparison to his tanned, warm and slightly worn hands from a short lifetime of working on the docks. As if I don't know my chances of survival are slim already, just standing on this stage I feel so small and weak compared to Finnick. He has plenty of experience with weapons from fishing, and what have I done with my life? Volunteered as Tribute when I had nothing to my advantage.

Yep, I'm a goner for sure.

Still, I am determined to keep our gaze locked. I attempt to make myself look almost cold and confident, but it changes instantaneously. He looks too kind, so innocent. So very like Solana when she was Reaped. I cannot physically look as cold as ice, for his warm eyes melt through it immediately. Standing this close to him, I can count the flecks of gold in his emerald gaze, or number the freckles splashed across his nose. I can even see a single dimple only visible on the side of his mouth that was raised upward. I really do have to admit, his beauty is certainly obvious.

His firm grip on my weak hand helps to keep me balanced. Ever since I walked on the stage, I've felt extremely dizzy. We shake hands twice and then Nova soon calls out one final time to the crowd.

"Thank you all for joining us here in District Four, and remember: Happy Hunger Games!" she beams brightly.

Then as the ocean of people started to buzz with applause and movement once more, Finnick takes the opportunity to surprise me with a low, barely audible whisper.

"Allies until the end, Corella?"

For what feels like the millionth time this day, I feel all air escape my body. People have to stop startling me or I'll have a fatal heart attack before the fun even begins. His eyes bore into mine, searching for an answer. He looks so desperate and scared that I somehow know he would feel better knowing for sure at least one person isn't set on killing him.

I can't help it; I analyse him. Just like I do with everybody I meet. Barely letting a second pass or even moving a muscle, I take in all sorts of information about Finnick, ultimately deciding if allying with him would pay off and tip the odds in my favour.

Although he's slightly taller than me, we have a very similar stature. We've both obviously had enough to eat and are healthy unlike the starving tributes in other Districts who have nothing on their bones. That gives us an advantage in terms of strength. However, as we are both on the younger end of the Eligible Spectrum, we're almost guaranteed to be smaller than the others. In fact, I'm tiny, and if Finnick is only a little bit taller at the moment, we are both going to look like jokes next to the others. Still, being tiny isn't so bad. We may not be good at the close-range combat that the other Careers will be experts at, but if we could somehow get away from the Careers and fend for ourselves, it would bode well for us if we could hide easily. Added to the fact that guys tend to be quick on their feet and that I am fast (though I don't have much stamina) it would mean we could make a quick get-away if needed. And on top of that, I have a feeling that being handsome or just remotely desirable would get sponsors. Sponsors mean food and supplies. Food and supplies mean survival.

Survival means winning.

Despite all of these advantages that Finnick would give me, there is more to it than that. I only felt safe on this stage once he grasped my hand and shook it firmly. I only felt calm when he gave me a genuine smile. I only felt like my volunteering wasn't so stupid when he asked me his question. There was something about the sincerity and kindness in his eyes; something about Finnick Odair that made me feel okay when I was soon going to be rising into an arena and play by the one rule: "Kill or be killed."

So, I whisper to him back, "Allies until the end, Finnick."

His face relaxes as he truly smiles to me, to the crowd. I know I've made the right decision. We both feel much better about the upcoming days knowing that we've found someone who won't kill us in each other. Still clutching my hand, he raises our arms one last time for the crowd and then drops it gently back down to my side. The Peacekeepers then prepare to escort us off the stage, right as the Panem anthem plays and a shot of us smiling slowly fades to black, transitioning to the start of the Reaping in District Five.

I can't exactly express my hatred of the armed Peacekeepers guiding me away from the stage at the current moment, but it doesn't mean I like it at all. It seems too cold and clinical, the way they march in a perfect square formation around me, prepared to fend off any rabid fans. Wouldn't want our lovely Tribute getting hurt before she gets killed, yes?

In any case, I am guided into the Justice Building in no time at all. It was a very beautiful building to behold on the outside, and obviously a lot of money has been indulged into crafting such magnificent architecture and furnishings. It is porcelain white, even though it has survived innumerable years being beaten by raging storms and just general everyday use. There are balconies on the odd floor, facing the courtyard and the ocean just on its doorstep, and ivy climbs out of crevices in every direction in such a way that it makes the building all the more stunning.

The inside is just as marvellous. Although it is common knowledge that District Four is better off than most, I haven't seen such a rich-looking place before. Even some of the mansions for the merchant families aren't as grand as this. Entryways are usually simple, but I've never seen one quite like this.

I walk through an ivory archway, and I am greeted with a large, open space filled with statues, paintings, sculptures and monuments alike. Looking up towards the ceiling, I at first think there is none. Then I realise as it is the tallest building in District Four, the ceiling is actually made of glass and shows a non-obscured view to the sky above. Breathtaking.

To add to that, at the opposite end of where I momentarily stand, there is the grandest grand staircase I have ever laid my eyes on. Round and round it spirals, in perfect circles that are such a treat to my sight that I gasp in awe.

Unfortunately, I cannot stay put for long. My square of Peacekeepers break away with me still marching in their wake from Finnick's squad. He travels down another ornate corridor on the right, whereas I travel to the left. They must be taking us to a waiting room of sorts. There'll be an hour spent in that room where I can think and sort out my feelings towards the Games. Usually it is time allotted for Tributes to say farewell to their family and friends, yet I know better than to expect anybody to enter the door.

I can't help thinking of that 12 year old who was dragged away screaming when Finnick was Reaped. What happened to her? I wonder if she will get to see Finnick like she declared she would for all of Panem to hear.

Yet, for me, I can sit in blissful silence trying to figure out a strategy in advance. Maybe they'll let me on the train early, and I can take a quick tour around it and get to know it before we actually set off.

Still, I'm left to wonder why they've escorted me here when they surely know that my relatives are dead and gone? Maybe they've mistaken the cheers from the crowd for popularity, when really they were just saying thanks for saving a life. In any case, I am locked in yet another rich-looking room with no one but myself for comfort.

What could I do in the time they've given me? The top of my priority list says cry and despair, or run away madly, desperate to live a little bit longer. When I sit down on a plush sofa, however, no tears come. I'm too shocked for one matter, yet I'm also too proud to show tears when the cameras join us again across the bridge at the train station. I'm positive that there's also a little piece of me that shows excitement, no matter how much I hate myself for it.

It is extremely frustrating to say the least, to be so confused and scared that you could cry, and yet no tears will fall despite them being the only thing to make you feel better. Maybe it's a good thing that I don't cry, I won't be perceived as weak at least. I soon find it is good that I don't despair for another reason.

I have been pacing around the marble room, sitting down every now and then on a different sofa that was even more comfortable than the previous. Sometimes I even got fed up with this routine and started moving the furniture around. Yet, when I glanced up at the large grandfather clock, only one painstaking minute has passed me by. Perhaps it is a lesson in its own way, telling me to make the most of every second. Soon enough, any second could be my last.

I am thankful that I have no tears to hastily wipe away, however, because not long after that minute I hear a commotion outside. Could be Peacekeepers switching patrol positions, but I feel my heart lighten at the prospect that someone could have actually chosen to visit me. I am not disappointed in my hopeless wishing, because I can hear footsteps coming closer; and many of them.

"This way, Madam." says one voice outside my door, an unfamiliar one that most likely belongs to a Peacekeeper.

"Thank you, kindly." replies an actual familiar voice, and for the first time I actually do feel a tear crawl down my cheek. They actually care enough to say goodbye to me.

The chained door unlocks, and Mrs McCarthy elegantly steps in, having obviously cried. Her fair hair is askew, and it's also clear that she's been comforting Taless and Tormet; who follow her closely behind. I am currently standing in the middle of the room, tears falling down my face faster than I could've possibly imagined.

They care, they really care. Somebody cares about me. I'm not alone.

She drops the boys' hands, and opens her arms out to pull me into a hug, at the exact same time Taless lurches forward to join in our embrace. Tormet follows a little bit awkwardly, but we all are pressed together so tightly that we can feel each other's heartbeats. Everybody is crying, and I can't stand to think that if I feel like this with neighbours, how does Finnick feel saying goodbye to family and friends?

Mrs McCarthy suddenly steps back, and cups my face with her hands at arm length. She then brushes a few strands of dark hair that has stuck to my face away delicately.

"You are such an incredible person," she starts -voice breaking as she goes, "And I want you to remember that on the darkest days. You've saved somebody's life doing this, and I sincerely pray that you come back to us all."

"Me too, Corella!" Squeak the boys, who can barely choke out the words. I can't stop crying, I just can't process the thought that this could be the last time I see this family alive.

"Thank you, Isla. Thank you so much," I say, even though my voice is threatened constantly to sound strangled, "I-if I don't come back, please don't be sad. I'm scared, but I'm more scared for you."

"Hush, now, Ella. You'll never come back unless you believe you can. We'll be fine, or we shall at least try. We'll sell everything we have to sponsor you, even if it's in vain." she replies softly.

Taless and Tormet still haven't let go of me, so I suggest we all sit down on one of the sofas and try and talk as calmly as we can. The boys huddle into me, and I can feel their tears fall just by sitting there.

"Don't sell for me, please. I can't stand the thought of you living with nothing. In fact, use my hut all you like. Take the rations. Take anything, as what could be my last request to you.."

"Oh, Ella. You're too kind. Don't lose yourself in those Games, I know you'll stay true to yourself. You will, for me, please?" she asks tentatively.

"I'd do anything for you all. If I could've volunteered for one of these boys, I would. I'm just glad I could save another from…from this." I reply.

Taless and Tormet look up at me with those incredibly large blue eyes. As if they'd practiced it, they speak to me the same words at the exact same time.

"Please try. Try to come back to us."

"I'll try the hardest that anybody has ever tried before to come back to you. I really will, but even if I don't, I want you guys to know that I'll still be around. Even if you can't see me, I'll be here. When I get on that train, I haven't left at all, so please remember that for me?"

The boys nod and then their mother speaks quietly to them.

"Now, boys, go and find your friends in the square. Watch the Reapings in District Five while I talk to Corella alone."

My heart breaks right then and there, so much so that I have to place my hand to my face to stop from screaming out about my idiotic decision. I should've thought of them, before I got on the stage. I can't keep my promise, I have no chance against any of the rest of them.

The twins actually do start crying, and it is the worst sound in the world. It tugs at my heartstrings and I put all my strength into trying to push them away, as they cling to me desperately as if them holding on means I don't have to go. I take their hands and gently walk with them to the door, letting the Peacekeepers take them away.

When the door closes, I fall to the ground sobbing.

"Come on, now, sweetheart. I know it's hard, but I need to tell you something before…before you go." Isla says to me, pulling me up from the floor.

By 'go' I know she's saying 'before I die'. This could be the last time we meet in person, and obviously there is something I must know before I am murdered.

She guides me back to the table, never letting my hand slip out of hers once. I manage to halt my tears for at least five minutes as she breaks some news to me.

"Now, I don't know who your parents are, and it sounds incredibly silly, but…I feel like you're my daughter, Corella. Even though it is awful that your family is almost non-existent, some part of me is always thankful that you landed in the orphanage."

"Why?" is all I manage to say, astounded by my ability to swallow her words and continue moving on, knowing our time is limited.

"Because it let me know you, let me look after you. When my husband passed away you and my boys kept me going. I know it's hard to think about, but I want you to at least know who you are to me before you go into a Game that makes people lose themselves so naturally. I know it can't be promised, but please tell me you will try and come back? I already mourn you like I've lost a daughter, and you haven't even left yet."

I feel more tears coming on, and I feel emotionally devastated inside. Knowing that I actually have parents who left me or died doesn't make me sad. I couldn't mourn people I didn't know, but I do cry at the thought that Mrs McCarthy thought of me like a daughter. She has been a motherly figure in the time I had spent living next door to her, and I can't find the words to say how extremely thankful I am to her.

I simply hug her for time I don't count. I don't know how long for, but we sat there, crying and hugging until the Peacekeepers unlocked the door again.

"I'll try, Isla, I'll truly try. For you." I whisper, as the white figures come forward to escort her away from me.

I feel dead, even though my death hasn't arrived yet. I can't explain anything at all except that I am simply numb. My prominent thoughts are that I was stupid for volunteering, I regret not being able to spend more time with the McCarthy family, I am absolutely terrified to go into the arena and also, I wish that when I close my eyes I could go back to this morning. Watching my last sunrise in District Four.

Looking up at the clock again, I have 10 minutes until I must be on my way to the Capitol. I seem paralysed with fear, and so oblivious to my surroundings that it takes several attempts from a young girl coughing politely before she owns all my attention.

I am especially shocked now, as I am being paid another visit by somebody I don't even know. The girl is so small, even in comparison to my own tiny figure that I realise if this was her first Reaping and she was chosen, the odds would most certainly not be in her favour. I take in her appearance, wondering where I know her from. Like me, she has dark brown hair which falls in little knots and curls around her heart-shaped face. However, her eyes remind me of Finnick's and the most part of District Four's eye colour. They are a pretty sea green colour that look just like the watery depths rippling just outside the Justice Building. She has a few freckles spattered across her cheeks, and I find myself finally understanding who she is.

She's the girl, the girl who cried for Finnick.

"Hello, Corella…" she says, her voice wavering from her obvious tears. She must have just seen Finnick, for her eyes are still watery and slightly red and puffy.

"Hello, sweetie, thank you for visiting me," I say gently to her, "What's your name?"

"I'm Annie. Annie Cresta. I came to see if you were okay." Annie replied, being so sweet I felt like crying yet again.

I can't help but immediately feel affection for this girl, she didn't even know who I was and yet she wanted to check up on me. For all she knows, I could be the murderer of the boy she cried over so much. That leads me to wonder who she was to Finnick. They obviously weren't siblings judging by their surnames, but maybe they were cousins or just best friends. Whatever the reason, I wished the ground would swallow me up now so I didn't have to feel any more pain for her.

Still, she is here for a reason and I need to listen.

"Well, hi, Annie. Come and sit down with me if you'd like?" I say, patting down the area next to me encouragingly.

"Thank you…" she whispers, still a little bit timid and nervous.

She sits down next to me, and I notice she is fiddling with a bit of rope in her hands, tying mesmerising knots over and over again, then undoing them just as quickly.

"I know you don't have much time, but I have two favours to ask you, if that's okay?" she whispers, her face as white as a ghost.

"Of course that's okay!" I respond as brightly as I could manage, trying to make her feel a little bit better. I am confused at the prospect of just what she could possibly ask me, but it makes sense when she forces the words out eventually.

"Well, first of all, I was wondering if you had a District token yet? I wasn't sure, so I made an extra one for you. I already gave one to Finn just now." she asks me under her breath, still incredibly shy.

She holds out a beautiful bracelet that was woven out of some sort of material. I realise she is clearly a net maker's daughter as it is extremely intricate and detailed. It was a golden sort of colour, if that is even possible seeing as it is made from a rope of sorts. There are also a few charms on the bracelet, little fish or a trident hang off each hook and I am in awe that she made something so pretty, and that she made one for me. All of it would remind me of District Four in the arena, and I am so thankful that I can't help but give her a small hug.

"Thank you so much, Annie," I breathe, "This is beautiful. I'd be honoured to wear it, to wear it for you."

She gives me a cute, child-like grin and I hold out my wrist for her to fasten it around. It fits me perfectly and looks as if that was the place it was meant to be. It just felt right to be wearing it, and gives me a little hope that my rash decision to be Tribute actually was fate and not a careless decision.

"It's beautiful, Annie! Now, what was your other favour you wanted to ask me?" I whisper, still trying to lessen the awkward feeling in the air.

She blanches a little, and I know this would probably be a harder thing to accept.

"I know I have no right to ask you this, but I can't help it. I wouldn't mind if you came home at all, and I'm not asking you to not…it's….just…" she sighs, and I finish her sentence for her.

"You want me to keep Finnick alive, don't you?" I choke out, tears creeping over my eyelids once more, imagining how she must feel.

She blinks a few times, probably keeping her eyes clear.

"I know I shouldn't ask this, but can you please make sure he gets as far as he can? He told me you were allies, and you have no idea how much I wish this isn't the last time I see him. Could you just try your best to help him on his way to coming home? And if not him, I hope you come home."

We are both crying, we can't help it. It is obvious Finnick meant a great deal to her, and I understand where she is coming from. She didn't necessarily want me to die for him, she just wants me to help prevent him from dying as long as I can.

I simply nod to her, and before I have even finished thanking her once more, the Peacekeepers are there at the door, dragging us both away from each other. They march me back down the corridor before I have even processed anything. I see Finnick awaiting me in the centre of the entry, and I quickly glance behind me. Annie is standing there, watching us be taken away from her for what could be forever. I see she's about to start screaming for him again, when two Peacekeepers cover her mouth and gently escort her away.

Finnick hasn't noticed, however. He only looks down at his wrist, where Annie has fastened an identical bracelet to mine. His hair covers his eyes as he looks down, but I don't need to be psychic to know their full of heartbreak and pain. It isn't my place, but I tentatively reach for his hand, and give him a reassuring squeeze. I don't know him at all, yet our hands do not part as we find comfort in each other on the walk to the bridge; the bridge I have never seen past before. The bridge leads on to the mainland, and where we will find Nova, our mentor and our train ride to the Capitol.

My hand in his gives him comfort knowing he's not alone, that he already has someone who won't murder him. I know he's noticed my bracelet too, and that will comfort him knowing that Annie is with us both, giving him the thumbs up that I'm a good person to ally with.

What's my comfort? I don't even know.

It's enough though, that us standing together means we're not as lonely as we think. We can already be counted on to survive a little longer than most other Tributes, and as we already have allies, it makes me feel better knowing I can keep up both promises for a little while.

That is the problem though; I have two promises I've made.

One is to come home safe and sound, as the only one alive from 24 children who originally go into the arena.

The other is that I need to do anything in my power to help Finnick win.

But if he wins, I can't fulfil my first promise to come home.

But if I do come home, it means I've left Finnick to die.