21
I've only ever heard of one Great Flood. But if I had anything else to go by, I would say this is the second. Water engulfs me, and I have a hard time kicking up. I wonder how the others are fairing. Others? Honestly Annie! Worry about us. Keep us alive.
I kick and kick and I finally reach the surface. I'm thankful that I know how to swim, but what of creatures larger than an average fish? I just hope the Gamemakers didn't think of putting a muttation in here. I don't think I could fend off a mutt and keep afloat.
A wave washes over me and I'm submerged once again. It's getting harder to break the surface. Kick Annie. Kick dammit! I spit out water once I reach air and that when I hear the dinging of a parachute. Someone is getting a life preserver. Not that anyone but me would probably know what it is but still. The silver parachute lands gracefully in the water near some other tribute. But before she sees it, she's pulled under. I wait for her to reemerge, but a cannon signal's that she's gone.
Treading water is almost too much to handle. Even I'm having a hard time swimming. Another cannon goes off. My feet feel like lead anchors. I'm not sure how much longer I can hold on. I can't concentrate on anything else other than the water and me.
I find myself floating on my back for a bit. I feel like a siren singing to her innocent prey. La la la, la la, la la. La la, la la, la la, la la la. Mmh, mmh.
Come young sailor
I'll take you away
Into the depths of an ocean blue
Come young sailor
And open your heart
I'll protect it from those above
Come young sailor
Come follow me
Out to the sea and beyond the breeze
Come young sailor
Do not part
For one chance is a gift I give you
Come young sailor
I'll take you away
Into the heart of splendor
Right now, I wish I had fins. And gills. And was a mermaid, then I could actually live in the water forever. Forever.
The life preserver washes towards me now. I don't make my way to take it. It seem useless to me now as another wave washes me under. I don't know how many other cannons have gone off, but the waves are almost as loud as the boom.
I sputter water once I reach the surface again. The arena has grown dark and mysterious like we've actually ventured out to sea. If only it were that easy. I see this great white bird fly overhead, and I can only think of it as a swan. How odd for it to be here. You're imagining it. Swans are rare today even though I've seen a few back in Four.
Then a trumpet blares. It must be one of those trumpeter swans I've heard of. Lovely voices. I look for it, but instead I see the black hulking shape of a hovercraft as I hear, "Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to announce the victor of the Seventieth Hunger Games, Anneliese Cresta. Tribute of District Four!"
Wait! What? Victor of the Seventieth Hunger Games? Someone must be joking. The hovercraft lowers and one of the ladder's rungs seeps into the water. I'm afraid to touch it. Last time I touched it I got grabbed in the arm. But it's hopeless because it's as if there's a magnet in my hand and the rung is positive and my palm negative. It comes to me without wanting and my fingers lace around it. I'm lifted into the air. Maybe I am a bird.
Once inside the hovercraft, I'm bombarded with people in white coats. My eyes widen. Are they here to hurt me? No no no! Someone pulls my hands away from my ears and I try to yank away, but it's useless. I'm not strong enough.
"We need to warm her up," I hear one say.
"She's like ice!"
"Her skin is nearly blue." Blue? Was there some sort of dye in the arena that I didn't know about? Someone wraps a silver blanket around my shoulders as another starts cutting my clothes away. I would try to stop them, but my eyes start to droop. And within a few seconds I see black.
I go in and out of consciousness, and I hear several voice concerns over some poor wretch.
"Why doesn't she wake?"
"It's her body's way of coping from the tra—" a serious voice answers.
"Trama? You call that trama?"
"Of course I do. She's suffered a mental break. She'll wake up when her mind is ready?"
"And will she be screaming like that for no reason?"
"That I can't tell you."
Poor, poor girl. I hope she'll be alright.
I wake in the middle of the night. Whatever room I'm in is dark. I gently move my aching limbs and go in search of a bathroom. They'll just follow you Annie? Who? Who will follow me? They will. They can find you. They always will. What do you mean? Then it's like a light flashed in my head. Trackers. I have a tracker. I have to get it out. I start clawing at my arm. The skin turns red and bloody and I hear the distinct click and slide of a door.
Someone tries to hold me back. "No!" I say. "No. I have to get it out. They're following me. No!" Someone stabs me in the arm and I go limp and my eyes droop.
"What happened?" I hear someone ask.
"We think she tried to remove her tracker sir." Yes tried. You didn't let me get it out. But I can't say any of that. I see black once more.
I have no sense of time anymore, but when I wake, I find a tube attached to my arm. I want to tug it off me, but I can't. Soon, someone enters the room and sits in a chair at the foot of the bed I'm in.
"Hello Anneliese. I'm Dr. Taylor," the white hair man says. "How are you feeling?"
How am I feeling? I'm not entirely sure, but I say, "Caged." I think that sums up my feelings. I am most certainly caged up like a bird. Dr. Taylor tries to get me to say more, but I won't talk to him. I'm not going to talk to anyone.
Sleep comes constant and often. It has become my new best friend. Best friend? Emmy! Emmy made me a bracelet. I look down at my wrist but it's gone. Gone! Where is it?
I find I can get up and move about the room. I pound on the locked door saying, "Where is it? Who took Emmy's bracelet?" I turn around and pace a few times and then the door whooshes open. I stop mid-mutter and carefully look out of the room. It looks safe. I slowly walk down the passage and hear voices. Three distinct voices.
Three distinct people talking in a lobby of sorts. Azure, Mags, and Odair. He sees me first.
"Annie!" Odair exclaims. He rushes toward me, but I step back wide-eyed. Why is he coming at me? A frown now marks his face and pain, but I don't know why.
Mags pulls him down into a chair. And that's when I notice Clayton sitting next to Odair. My eyes fill with tears as he gets up. I run to him and he pulls me into a hug.
"Shh. Annie. You did fine. You're safe," he tells me
"Like her?" I ask.
Confusion washes over his face for a split second then he nods. Clayton brushes the hair from my face as he says, "Come. We'll get you something to eat." He tugs me along the rest of the way.
I turn halfway around to see Odair's stricken face. Azure is looking at him with a pitying look. And before we're out of earshot, I distinctly hear Mags say, "Give her time Finnick."
Clayton leads me out of the hospital into the Training Center. I almost pause until I realize he's taking us to the elevators. He hits the fourth floor button, and I sigh in relief. And as the doors open, my senses detect the most wonderful smells of food.
I eat and eat like I haven't ever before. Clayton doesn't. He just watches me. I see him nod to an Avox and then soon enough, I hear the loud boisterous voices of Lou-Lou, Dorcas, and Sebastian. I didn't realize that I would miss them this much. They fill the silence that I can't seem to make louder.
Sebastian sits next to me and deftly slips something on my wrist. I look down and see my bracelet—Emmy's bracelet—on my arm once again. I turn to tell him thanks but I see Clayton subtlety shake his head. I swallow. I guess they weren't supposed to give it to me then.
After I'm finished eating, they lead me to my room to dress me up. Apparently tonight I get to see the recap of my games. My games. How odd that sounds. So does victor. You weren't victorious over anything. Well, that's true.
They poke and prod me as if I were a china doll. I don't tell them that this bothers me. I haven't really spoken at all. You spoke to Clayton. He's different. He somehow understands me.
Clayton slips me into my dress as the trio leaves us. I close my eyes as he leads me to the mirror. What will I look like today? Blue? Frail? Haunted? None of the above.
I feel small and helpless, but Clayton has me appear as strong and fierce as the ocean. If only that were true. The bottom of the dress is the deep blue and it slowly seeps to green then sand then to white then finally, an orange gold. Each tier is light and a slightly different shade than before. I am the sea, the beach, and the setting sun.
A small smile appears on my neutral lips. My eyes have this same coloring to them, and yet my eyes seem to be a darker green than normal. My hands touch my pinned up hair to where I now notice there are several strands that are blue and green.
"They're removable," Clayton says. "Finnick didn't want anything to outshine the natural you." I nod. Of course he didn't. "Now, for the final touch." Clayton turns around and holds out a slender rectangular box to me. I open the blue velvet and see a strand of diamonds lying inside. "They're polished sea glass," Clayton confirms as if he knew I thought it to be something else. "You get to keep this," he adds as he takes it from the box and places it around my neck. "It was especially made for you in mind."
I touch it and almost take my hand back because it's so delicate. Like it will break with just one wrong move.
"My own life preserver," I say and look Clayton in the eyes. He gives me a small smile like we were on the exact same wave length.
He leads me out of the room and down the elevator to where I trained. Hours ago? Weeks? It all just seems blurry now. Clayton leaves me, and I hear the roar of the crowd above.
It's traditional for the victor to rise up on stage. First the Prep team, then the escort, stylist, mentor, and finally trib—victor. All to view the games. Again.
My hands feel sweaty, and I would wipe them on my dress but I'm worried it will leave a mark. I'm about to move to inquire about a napkin, but the anthem plays. Maybe I have time to find one, however I see no one around. And before I think about it further, I'm rising on stage. The crowd's roar is deafening.
This is my moment to shine. But all I can do is stand here scared stiff. And I can hear the crickets chirping now. Come on Annie, move. I slowly move and control my face. Hoping there's no fear on it. No emotion at all.
I sit in the designated chair across from Caesar Flickerman as he introduces the 'show'. I smile a few times hoping that is enough. One of my hands grips the arm of the chair. I hope the upholstery holds. I can feel my knuckles turning white.
The light dims, and I can already see the countdown in my head. Three hours. Three hours. You can do this Annie. You can do this. But as the screen clicks on, I can't help but feel it's a death sentence. The only question is, for whom?