Author's Note: Hi guys! Just giving some extra credit in this chapter. Obviously the characters/story belong to Suzanne Collins, and I borrow lyrics from the Low Anthem's "Lover is Childlike" in this chapter. Hope you guys like it! Cheers!
I position myself in front of the bathroom connected to what is now my room, and start to work on my face. Finnick and I had eggs and toast for early dinner, so I could get ready for the festival.
I let my dark hair fall in its natural waves down my back, and blend different colors of eye shadow together: midnight blue, sea green, and shimmering gold. I put a rose color on my lips and my cheeks, put gold dangly earring in my ears, and put on a tight, light green dress. I look good, I think.
When I walk downstairs, Finnick is already dressed and ready. My breath catches when I see him; he wears a sea green linen shirt with khaki pants on, and I've never seen him look so handsome.
When I walk up to him, he whispers in my ear, "You shouldn't have worn that. I won't be able to keep my hands off of you," and his voice is seductive and low like it is when he's in the Capitol. I giggle a little bit at him, and swat him away.
"I can guarantee I won't be able to keep mine off of you, Mr. Odair," I say, mimicking his seductive tone.
"You're almost as good as I am at being seductive," he remarks coyly.
"And you're almost as good-looking as I am." At that, he laughs out loud with such exuberance that I can't help but grin widely. It sounds like the way he used to laugh before the Games, before he had to be a different version of himself. He takes my hand and we walk out the front door.
The night is cool, but I'm not cold. As we walk inland from Victor's Island, all I can smell is the ocean, and it's magnetic. At times like these, I feel bad for the rest of Panem. District 7 has trees, District 11 has fields and orchards, but we're the only district that has the sea. Hundreds of miles of coast, multiple towns nestled on the coast of the fishing district. The city where I live is the largest, and it's the main town in District 4. District 4 has a population of nearly 20,000, and there are ten towns along the coastline, with fences keeping those towns separated. The entire coast of District 4 is lined with watchtowers, but they're unnecessary. The people of District 4 are, I believe, the luckiest in Panem. Everyone I've ever met here would never leave. I know that I would never leave District 4, even if I were at the end of a gun.
"Annie?" Finnick says, waving his hand in front of my face. "What's going on up there?" I laugh. Finnick is too familiar with me zoning out and going into the world inside my mind.
"Just thinking about how lucky we are in District 4. The only other people who have seen the ocean are victors and escorts. It's sad," I say, but I'm happy. I'm lucky.
"I wish you knew how many times I've thought that," but Finnick is sad and melancholy. He is worlds away, trapped inside the nightmare of his own mind. But suddenly, his face breaks out in a smile. "And now, I have the most beautiful girl in the most beautiful district by my side. I'll never want for anything again."
I lean up and kiss his cheek, just because I can. Just because I'm so thankful that he is here, so thankful that he came home from the Games four and a half years ago. So thankful that he is with me.
When we arrive to the festival, the noise is overwhelming. People from other towns in District 4 have travelled here for the festival, so the coastline and the pier are more crowded than ever. My eyes light up, and I tell Finnick that we should go dance.
We dance until our feet are sore, and laugh until our stomachs can't take it anymore, and stuff ourselves with apple pie and brown sugar salmon until we fall down on a white bench on the pier, and I'm reminded of the times when Finnick was innocent, when he was happy. When we both didn't have a care in the world; when I didn't worry about volunteering next year, when he didn't have worry about what the Games did to him.
The band starts up an old, slow song, and I feel Finnick pulling me back to the dance floor. Everyone in District 4 knows this song, this ballad dedicated to a childlike lover and to the neverending sea.
Meet me down by the whale watch; meet me down by the sea
I hear voices all around singing, contributing just a little to this beautiful tribute to the ocean, and I let myself close my eyes and take it in. Meet me down by the sea. The air smells like salt and baked apples, and I swear I can hear the waves crashing over the noise of the festival, over the gentle notes of the song. We'll go out on the sea. Small waves and large, tumbling into shore, kissing the sand. See her down in the surf. The air is all I can feel, the waves all I can hear. She whispers, "God hates flags." And Finnick; Finnick is all I can feel.
It's late May, and I'm seventeen. Seventeen, the year I spent my childhood wishing for. Seventeen, the year I would volunteer for the Games. But all I feel right now are nerves. It's the day when instructors turn in their recommendations, and I've been selected. Tomorrow, I will have to accept or decline, and I know I will accept.
"Odair!" I call with a smile. He jogs over to me, and gives me a wide smile that doesn't quite touch his eyes.
"You're going to accept, right?" He asks excitedly, but I feel like it's an act. He wants to be supportive.
"Yep. Let's go tell Mags," I suggest. I'm sure Mags has already guess that I would be selected, but I'm still excited to see the look on her face when I tell her. After my mother decided that I was a stranger to her, Mags stepped up and took the role, and it's become very natural.
I take a deep breath walking into Mags's house, inhaling the smell of it. She's been baking, and by the smell of it, it's lemon meringue pie. I yell, "Mags!" and she walks down the stairs after a few moments.
"Hi, sweetie. Do you want some pie?" I laugh gently and tell her that yes, of course I do, and she gets me three pieces. "So, get down to it already, you two."
"What do you mean?" Finnick asks, confusion knitting his brow.
"You two come here after the Academy lets out and are sitting here with expectant looks on her face. I may be old, but I'm not stupid."
"I'm going to accept the invitation to take the Games practical." I blurt out, nervous and excited and nauseous at the same time.
"And do you think you have the skills to win?" Mags asks in a grandmotherly way.
"Yes," I say automatically, because I really do think that. I've been training for nine years for this, and I'm totally prepared. "I'm well rounded in weapons and survival, and I'm smart. I think I'll be fine," I finish.
"Well, then," she smiles happily. "I'm glad for you. Just remember that the Games will change you," she says, but then grin doesn't leave her face. I think she knows that I know that. And I think she thinks I'll win.
"Thanks, Mags," I say gratefully. "I want to thank you for everything you've done for both Finnick and me. You're like a mother to both of us, and we couldn't possibly love you more than we do," I finish, and she has tears in her eyes.
"The pleasure, I can assure you, has been all mine. You two will always be my wonderful children, no matter what."
I look over at Finnick, but he's looking at Mags with tears in his eyes. His eyes shift over to me, and it's like I can read the thoughts behind his gaze. You have to win, he tells me silently. Win and come home.
"I just wanted to let both of you know that I'll win the Games for you. I promise you, I'll be coming back, and we'll all be neighbors," I say proudly, but I know that it's a promise that might be hard to keep. But I'm determined. I'm not just going to be selected and win the Games for honor and pride. I'll be doing it for the people I love. Mags, my father, my brothers. And Finnick. Always for Finnick.
"I accept," I say loudly to the leader of the Academy, Gordon Earl. He shakes my hand proudly, and hands me an access card to the Games Center. I walk with my head held high, and when I walk through the door, I am immediately greeted by Blake, one of my best friends in the world. A rush of heat goes through me. "Blake? You were recommended?"
"Obviously, dummy," but he says this with worry in his eyes. What if it is Blake—one of my best friends since I was nine years old—and me in the Games together? I want to win, but I don't think I can kill him. He's been my friend since I came here. I used to like him. Maybe I still do.
"Well, good. I'll need some competition in the arena." He laughs, but I think we both feel sick to our stomachs. It'll end up being us. I can feel it, and I think he can too.
When every person who has been recommended comes through the doors, I can see that seventeen year olds are dominating the playing field this year. Hala, to my surprise, was recommended, and so were Michael and Nadia. There are a collection of eighteen year olds, and we are all silent.
"Written tests will begin shortly," Gordon announces. "But first, I would like to tell you all how proud I am of all of you. This year's crop of potential tributes is one of the best I've ever seen, and I feel confident that District 4 will have a victor this year. You are all the best of the best. I congratulate you." A scream tears through my throat, and I pump my fist in the air. Soon, all of us are. We have been trained our whole lives for this opportunity. And here we are. "If you'll follow me, I'll take you to the Testing Room."
The Games Center is not light and airy like the rest of the Academy. The lights are dim and the walls are completely black. Everything seems to be aimed at disorienting potential tributes, and I'm guessing that's what it is. The Games are as mental as they are physical.
"You may serve yourself food and drink before the test begins in fifteen minutes. At that time, I ask you find the cubicle with your name on it and begin when the buzzer sounds." Gordon Earl deadpans. The only passion I heard from him was when he was congratulating us.
Blake walks over to me, and he motions to the food panel. I hit the "EGGS" button, and am rewarded with a huge plate full of steaming eggs. I also press the "ESPRESSO—LATTE" button and stand next to Michael while he orders his food. He is nervous, and so am I.
"It'll be you," he says quietly. "We all know it." And my stomach clenches at the thought. I want to be in the Games, of course, but that doesn't rid me of the anxiety. But I put on a poker face and nod to him. I set my plate down and grab his hands.
"Just like in training. You and me," I say, and my stomach gives another flip. I notice how beautiful the pale, clear blue of his eyes are, and how dark his eyelashes are. Suddenly, a look of longing comes into his eyes, and we press our foreheads together like we did before we sparred in training. But this time, it feels more intimate. And I can't say I don't enjoy it. I forget about Finnick for a moment, and let myself be young. I let myself feel something for someone else, and I think that maybe I've always felt something for Blake. Blake has been my friend for nine years. I even had a crush on him when I was younger, a huge crush. And that's okay.
After all, one of us could be dead in a month.
"Good luck, Annie," Blake whispers.
"Good luck, Blake," and my voice is even quieter than his.
I put my hand on the pulse reader, and begin the test. It's mainly strategic questions, like:
The pool has come down to the final eight. You and your allies must separate. What is the best option to ensure victory?
Break away from the group at your earliest opportunity and play on your own.
The night before splitting up, kill all of them in their sleep.
Raid the camp before splitting and hunt down the remaining tributes.
Keep your district alliance, and follow your former allies after splitting up in order to eliminate the toughest competition.
And it's completely easy. I know, especially if it was Blake in the arena with me, that we would stay allied until the end. My heart squeezes as I select D.
The arena is a frozen wasteland with abundant trees and frozen streams. What is your tactic in this arena?
Make camp at the Cornucopia and use the supplies there to get you through the Games.
Move camps every day, making sure to stay near trees and streams.
Isolate yourself from the other tributes in a secluded corner of the arena and try to stay warm.
Attempt to kill as many tributes before you freeze to death.
I actually laugh at the last two answers, and select B. Soon enough, the strategy questions shift to survival, which shift to combat. I breeze through them, and as I finish question 100, which is short answers, not multiple choice—Your final opponent is one hundred pounds heavier than you and you are fighting in close quarters. What is your combat strategy to take down this opponent to win the Hunger Games?—I hit the buzzer that signals that I'm done.
Gordon Earl comes by to tell me that I can leave my cubicle, so I go to the bathroom and pick up more food. The food choices have shifted from breakfast to lunch, and I have a hamburger to build up my strength before the Arena Room. If I make it to the Arena Room. I let out a long breath I didn't know I was holding in.
When all of the students finish, Blake finds me. He wraps an arm around my shoulder and whispers, "How did it go?" I laugh out loud, causing the other students to look at Blake and me.
"Flawlessly. You?"
"Decent. I think it's enough to get me to the next step," he says, hope in his voice. He gives me a hug, which alleviates some of the nerves I'm experiencing. He smells nice, and I find myself hugging back tighter.
"Attention, students. I will be announcing the written exam scores now. If you received a score below 70, you will not progress any further. With no further ado, here are your scores. Cresta, Annie with a score of 96." I gasp as he continues, "Daferi, Hala with a score of 72. Dolly, Kyle with a score of 58. Edwards, Nadia with a score of 69." Nadia lets out a groan, and I'm very surprised that she didn't make the cut and Hala did. But Hala worked hard to improve, but Nadia plateaued. "Hadley, Blake—" I hold my breath. "With a score of 94." I clap him on the back. "Lowe, Bethany with a score of 90. Peters, Samuel with a score of 80. Wavely, Michael with a score of 73. Schuler, Emily with a score of 49. Schuler, Marina with a score of 85. Finally, Townsend, Barry with a score of 92. Congratulations to those who made it past, and congratulations to those who didn't. Because you were skilled enough to take this test, you will all be offered a position at the Academy. Please follow Mr. Odair to the room where you will be assigned your positions." I look nervously at Finnick, because Blake's arm is still around my shoulders. Finnick knows we're friends. I let out a breath when he smiles at me. In the clear.
After the students follow Finnick—who will be back in time for the practical—Gordon addresses us, "You all deserve very much to be here. I am proud of all of you. Now, I will be telling you about what we call the Arena Room." My heart beats faster. "Now, you will be entering the room in alphabetical order. The Arena Room does not create an entire Games for you, as that would take days. The Arena Room will conjure up five to ten scenarios that you will have to react to, based on how well you are doing and how many tributes have been killed. These scenarios are holographic, as are the tributes, but it is very real, I can assure you. The Review Board will be watching the entire thing and taking copious notes. Each student will only take about one hour. After everyone is finished, it will take two to three days to select the tributes. Those of you who are not selected will also be offered positions at the Academy. Those two of you who are selected will be tributes and the pride of our district. Best of luck."
I don't even have time to wipe the sweat off my hands before "Cresta, Annie," is called and I'm ushered into the room. Massive doesn't even begin to describe it. It's even larger than the Main Center, and all around me are holographs of the Games. The arena is an island, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I'm positioned on a pedestal and I survey my fellow tributes and the cornucopia. There are actual weapons inside the holographic Cornucopia, but from what Finnick has told me, once a holographic tributes seizes one, it disappears and is put into holographic form. The weapons I will use are real.
My heart stops as I see a tribute that looks almost identical to Finnick. I make eye contact with him, and he nods at me. I find myself nodding back, and I do the same with the tributes from 1 and 2. An alliance. The alliance that the outer districts call the Career alliance, because the Games are pretty much our career.
The gong goes off, and I sprint to the Cornucopia, beating all the other tributes there. I grab four belts of knives, and three axes, big enough to kill in close range but small enough to throw. I turn and holograph Finnick yells, "Defend the Cornucopia!" I do exactly that. I find a small girl trying to run towards me and I throw a knife right into her heart. Sensing someone to my left, I cartwheel outside of the Cornucopia and throw the knife halfway through my cartwheel. Two dead by my hands. But I don't even think anymore. A large boy slinks out of the Cornucopia behind me, and I see a scythe in his hands.
"What do you think you're doing?" I say evilly. But before I can say anything more, I see his arm move, and I duck. I tackle him by the knees, and he goes down. I sit on him and push his wrist down with my foot, and I hear a crack. The scythe won't do him any good now. I jam my arm into his windpipe, until I realize who I'm acting like. I'm acting like 1 and 2, playing with my food. I release him, but pull him up by his hair. He deserves a quick death. While I'm holding his head from behind, I slit his throat with my other arm. I belt my knife and pull an axe out from the sling on my back, looking for a fight. And I find one with the boy from 6, who found a sword. We spar for a while, but I'm mainly doing it for fun. The tribute looks alarmed by the smile on my face, and begins to back up. He knows he won't win. I know he won't win. So he tries to run, but I throw my axe so hard at his back that it sticks out from his chest a little bit.
I look around and see that the Cornucopia is littered with bodies, and everyone else has fled.
"Nice job, 4," the male from District 2 grins at me. I look around to survey the damage. Four dead by my hand. I walk to the boy from 6, and pull my axe out of him so I can catch my breath. I'm exhilarated. I pull my knives from two dead tributes and hear the cannons go off. Twelve dead.
The holograph fades into another scenario, where we are being chased by dog mutts. They are fast, but I'm much faster than they are. Abandoning all of my allies, except the one that looks like Finnick, I signal that we should climb the rubbery trees. "Better vantage point," I yell.
Here, I am comfortable. There are around 8 dogs, and I have forty eight knives. Easy. I pick them off with knives, my district partner takes a few down with spears, and we're safe. But not the rest of our pack. The boy and girl from 1 are dead, and the tributes from 2 are badly injured.
I see their bleeding wounds, and I close my heart. I can't pity them here. It's a weakness. So I tell them, "I'll make it quick," and snap both of their necks. I shudder at my ruthlessness but remind myself that if I were injured they wouldn't think twice. So I don't.
The images fade away as the Finnick lookalike and I hunt in the jungle. We need food, because the dog mutts destroyed our store at the Cornucopia. But we find nothing. Luckily, we find that the ocean surrounding the island is full of bright and colorful fish. I recognize one as the Red Snapper, and we fry it and devour its delicious meat. A cannon goes off. Only seven left.
"So when do we separate?" I ask lightly.
"We kill two more, and then separate. I don't want to kill you," and the Finnick lookalike focuses his sea green eyes on me. I will myself to stay strong, but his eyes are breaking me down. I don't want to kill you.
"Okay. Let's hunt." He smiles at me and the moment has been shattered by our mutual need to win.
I find the girl from 11 hidden in a tree, asleep. I smile to myself because it's perfect. I have an axe, and Finnick is on the ground. I tell Finnick that I'll cut down her branch or something and he'll be responsible for her death on the ground. Team kill. So I silently climb the tree, hoping my slight movements won't wake her. When I get to her branch, I almost hesitate. Her skin is dark brown, and she looks peaceful. She looks like she's worlds away, nowhere near the Games, and I wish that she wasn't here. I wish I didn't have to kill her. I look at her for a little while longer, then assess the situation. She is sleeping at the crook of two slim branches, strapped in by rope. I decide to cut down the branch from the side, so she'll fall down to the Finnick lookalike. I apologize to her in my mind, and take a large swing at the branch. She wakes up, but the branch is so thin that she can't untie her rope before I take two more swings and the branch falls. I close my eyes so I don't see her death. I'm sorry. It was you or me.
But I still hear her screams. I give myself three seconds to feel for this girl and then put my steel armor back on. This is the Hunger Games, and I have to win.
I kill a large boy from District 10, but I don't apologize for him. He attacked me viciously, and I'm slightly injured, walking with a limp. But I buried my axe in his head.
When I say goodbye to the Finnick lookalike, we are standing on the beach of the island. "See you later," he says to me. "I hope it's not the two of us in the end."
All I say is, "Me too," before I go walking my separate way. The arena changes to a dense patch of jungle on the outer edge of the Cornucopia. I'm stalking along, a knife in each hand, when I hear voices. Three of them. Some outer district alliance, I'm assuming. I decide to have just a bit of fun with them, because so far my kills have been relatively easy.
I creep out of the jungle to the clearing where the Cornucopia is, and make some noise like I'm wounded and call for help. They rush out of the jungle, eager looks on their faces, until they realize that I'm not injured. I bet they thought I'd be an easy kill with the way I was calling for help. I played them. And they realize it.
My training kicks in when one throws a spear at me. I recall the mobile dummies with Nadi and hear his voice in my hand, Spin out of the way. Backwards knife throw. I execute perfectly, but I duck to the ground directly after, because I hear the pull of a bowstring. The arrow would have hit me right between the eyes two seconds before. Angry at his accuracy, I charge at him, knocking him down. One of his arrows scraped my arm as I took him down. I keep one foot on his throat as I kick him in the stomach. "I hate you," he chokes out, and I actually laugh. The idea of this boy's hate actually affecting me is laughable. We're all playing for the same prize. There's no room for hate.
"Sorry to hear that." I say flatly. I hear movement behind me, and in one swift motion, I've pulled the axe from the sling, turned and cut the girl from 12's head off.
In that two seconds, the archer tries to run away from me, and I give chase. He sprints into the jungle, and I follow him, quick and lithe as a jungle cat. When I hear Finnick's voice, my heart sinks. Either this boy will kill Finnick, or I will have to.
"Looks like your training won't help you win after all," the boy spits out. His voice is bitter and disgusted, and I realize, for the first time, how much the other districts hate us. I keep listening to the encounter, and I recognize it from Finnick's actual Games. I know what Finnick will say before he says it. Tell me why it matters anymore. In the end, you kill me or I kill you. We're all equals here, kill or be killed.
"Tell me why it matters anymore. In the end, you kill me or I kill you. We're all equals here, kill or be killed." Finnick says quietly but proudly.
"I won't be sorry to see you die," and I'm amazed that this practical is taking material from Finnick's Games directly. I remember it perfectly.
"Well, I'm sorry to hear you say that. And I'll be sorry to see you die," Finnick says, always calm and measured. He doesn't sound cruel or compassionate, just indifferent. I wonder if his words were true back then.
"Go to hell, 4." Those are the last words I hear before there's a sound of metal hitting a body, and I know the boy is dead.
And I know that this is my final test. I know that what I do now will decide whether I'm chosen for the Games. I love Finnick, and if I don't kill him in this arena, I will fail. I'm sure of it. So I step out from behind the tree.
I can't look at him, but I'm sure he's staring me down now, asking with his eyes if this is what I want to do. "I'm sorry, Finnick," I whisper almost inaudibly. I look up for just a moment, to aim my knife, when I see his eyes. I almost falter. Almost. But I raise my arm and say, "I have to win." And in the final seconds before my knife reaches the target, his eyes tells me that he understands.
I want to run back to Victor's Island after everyone finishes their practical. I've never wanted so badly to collapse into bed and cry, but now that's all I can think of. Blake catches me for a moment, and I tell him very quietly, just like I did before written exam, "Just like in training. You and me."
He smiles, and when I look at his lips, I think of the times he would smile at me when I was thirteen, and I would blush. They look soft, and welcoming. I almost allow him to kiss me, thinking it will erase the memories of what I just had to do to the person that has always stuck by me, never given up on me. Maybe it would just be easier to forget, for just a moment. He leans in to kiss me, and his lips are barely touching mine before the memory of Finnick, pale and dead by my hand, reappears in my mind. Finnick, who I love more than anyone else. Finnick, who was my final test to see if I was strong enough. Finnick, who I watched bleed to death, and it was so real I can't breathe anymore. And I know I can't kiss this boy.
I inhale sharply and say, "Blake, I've gotta go. I'm having dinner with Finnick tonight." He nods, his eyes still soft, and I walk away. But before I leave the waiting room, I turn to see Finnick looking at me, betrayal written all over his face. He saw the whole thing.
