Finnick

I sat, helplessly, in the chair, watching as Annie made her way up the wooden stairs. She seemed as out of it as I felt, maybe even more so. Inside my mind, my whole world was thrown into a hurricane as I scrambled to fit together the pieces of the puzzle. Annie Cresta, my mind echoed, transforming Delphi's squeaky voice into a more snake-like hiss. My mouth hung open, my eyes refusing to blink. Annie didn't meet my gaze once in the entire time she was being celebrated by the escort and the mayor. In fact, she made no effort to interact with me until we were safely locked away inside the Justice Building, as she had very few last visitors.

"Annie!" I called, racing to catch up with her. She was quicker than I, though, and managed to shut the door moments before I would've been able to stick my foot in the way. I pounded on the door, ignoring the confused looks that the Peacekeepers threw my way. "Annie, open up! I need to talk to you!"

Something hard hit the door, seemingly bouncing right off. Then a duller sound, followed by a crunch—had she tried to punch the door?—ensued. "Go away! I don't want to talk to you right now!" she cried in a hoarse voice that gave away her tears. She sniffled loudly before her footsteps faded away.

"An—goddamn!" I yelled, frustrated by then. I looked around for a second, my eyes finally landing on a loose bolt. With the knowledge of my great grandmother, I bent it until it was thin enough to fit in the lock. Then I fumbled around for a few seconds before finally popping the door open.

Annie was in tears sitting on her bed, her knees drawn up to her chest. Her whole body was shaking in sync with her sobs, and my stomach clenched together as I realized that she'd be going through the same kind of torture as I would. I walked around the bed so I could see her, and never in my life had I seen someone so depressed, so scarred, so…hopeless.

"Annie," I murmured as softly as I could, gently brushing aside her long dark curls from her face. If I hadn't been so preoccupied by her crying, I would've been able to notice that she looked stunning, even during the reaping. She shut her eyes tightly, sniffing, as tears continued to pour steadily down her cheeks. "It'll all be al—"

"NO!" she screamed so loudly that I froze momentarily, completely surprised by her outburst. "I'm going to—hic—DIE—hic—in less than—hic—TWO WEEKS! I'M NOT GOING TO CALM DOWN, FINNICK!"

I raised my eyebrows as she continued shrieking about her fate, all the while trying to keep my cool. What use would I have been to her, if I started shouting as well? We'd both be escorted to the Capitol asylums for insane people, for sure! Instead, I looked up at the ceiling, which had been painted to resemble the blue skies of District 4, as she blew off some steam. Finally, when I doubted she had any energy left for more than silent tears, I muttered, "I know this is stressful, Annie, but I want to help you survive. And, unfortunately, I can't do that if you're not willing to help."

"Not willing to—" she began indignantly, insulted by the implication that I would have to work towards her survival on my own. I interrupted her smoothly.

"Listen, we can't talk here, it's bugged, but as soon as we get on the train, you and I will definitely have a little conversation," I said as low as possible, "and devise a strategy for winning. Alright?"

She raised an eyebrow at me, finally opening her eyes. They were bloodshot, but still maintained the innocence behind their sea-greenness. "You're supposed to be helping Sander," she answered flatly, even unimpressed at my attempt of favoring her. "Don't pick me just because you're…" She stopped herself, looking aghast, as if she couldn't believe what she was about to say. Her hand flew to her mouth, and her gaze drifted from myself to some point far in the other side of the room, eyes widened in horror. Luckily I could tell where she was headed.

"Just because I'm in love with you?" I finished for her. "Because I am, Annie!"

She sat up, undoubtedly surprised. "What?" she asked, stabbing my gut with a fresh new pang of guilt. Instantly, I recalled those long, cold, distant months, in which I'd been forbidden to form any sort of emotional attachment with anybody, even those I cared about. I was no longer allowed to write to Four, for any purposes, without the consent of President Snow after he'd gone through my letters. In fact, he'd told me that, since I didn't seen capable of doing so myself, he'd taken the liberty of writing Annie a goodbye letter on my behalf.

Suddenly, it was as if someone took a huge bucket of ice cold water and splashed it on my head, and I was awakened, for the first time, to what was really going on. "Hold that thought," I told her monotonously, getting up and walking away from her bed.

Two Peacekeepers intercepted me in the hallway, ordering me to return to my assigned chamber in the mansion, but I pushed them aside as easily as if they were palm tree leaves blocking my way. I took long strides towards the main hall, eventually breaking into a jog—then a sprint—as if I couldn't stand to be so far away from the source of the problem. Finally I came upon two distinct golden doors, with the seal of Panem engraved on them, half on each one. I pushed through them, not even caring to knock, or check if there's anyone waiting behind them.

Bewildered, Delphi stopped talking midsentence to Mayor Bartholomew, who looked at me with scorn. They seemed to have been engaged in a heated argument about something, and evidently, the mayor wasn't making as strong a case as Delphi. "Finnick," Delphi said endearingly, in a falsetto voice just barely giving away her distress, "I thought you were supposed to wait for further instructions inside your room."

I ignored her, instead rushing to the end of the hall. I could faintly hear the mayor calling for security—but I didn't care. I had to reach the glass ball before they took me away, I just had to!

I reached into the first one I found, grabbing a fistful of paper slips with names on them. Guston Crabbley, Elliott Mercer… The list went on as I, becoming increasingly frustrated, dropped all of the papers back into the bowl. Obviously that wasn't the one I was looking for. In the back of my mind, I heard Peacekeepers running towards me, almost having reached me. I pushed the glass aside, not even caring that it shattered at my feet, bouncing off and barely scratching me. I had to reach the second reaping bowl before they reached me.

With hands shaking in rage, I stepped before the girls' bowl, slowly dipping in my hands and letting my fists grab as many papers as I could. A layer of sweat had amounted on my hairline, but I hardly cared about appearances in that moment. All I cared about were the slips of paper, dampening under my sweaty grab. Two Peacekeepers seized my arms, forcing me to let go of the slips, but not before I could glimpse at them.

Each one of them, in bold so I couldn't miss any paper's mark, with the name ANNIE CRESTA printed on them.