I hate District 4. I hate the way they stare at me with the same blame as before. I hate the way they all avoid me. I hate the emptiness of Hollis' abandoned house. I hate the buzz of schoolchildren as they head home. I hate the look on my mother's face- the one that tells me she is scared of losing me again. I hate my father's attempt to patch things up- the awkward fishing trips, the terse conversation. I hate the knowing looks on the victor's faces and the vastness of my house. Mags promised me that it would get better but it just feels exactly the same. I am still drowning in it. This is not something I can fix overnight.
I kick at the loose stones as I make my way along the dusty road. There's only one person I want to see- one person that might be able to take my mind off everything- just for a moment.
I reach the familiar dilapidated building on the edge of the sands. Weeds grow up through the pathway, bits of glass scattered everywhere. All the curtains are closed giving the place a forbidden look. Mr Cresta is sat outside on his old rocking chair. Annie is sat by his feet fixing a net, her long dark hair blowing in the wind. There is no sign of Eoghan.
As I approach Annie looks up at me, her eyes growing impossibly wide. She drops her net into her lap and fumbles to retrieve it.
"He's not here," Mr Cresta tells me, his annoyance clear in his voice. "I told him to go off and make himself useful. Gave him jobs to do. Can't have him sitting idle all day like some sort of bum." I know this is meant to be a jab at me. I can't blame him though, I know I am useless.
"Do you know when he'll be back?"
"Not before he's finished, if he has any sense."
"All right, well, thanks anyway…." I turn back down the road wandering idly. There is nothing for me to do now. I suppose I could go looking for Eoghan but it is unlikely that I'll find him- Mr Cresta could have sent him anywhere.
I decide to go to the beach. At least then I'll be able to watch the boats and pretend like I have a purpose. I slowly turn down the twisted road where I will no longer be seen and I allow my shoulders to droop down and my pace to slack. It's not like I'm in a rush.
"Finnick!" I turn to see Annie running after me, her bare feet thumping footprints in the sand. She skids to a halt just in front of me. "Finnick, I think Eoghan has gone to help Mr Murphy in his shop- I heard Grandfather speaking to him earlier."
"In the bakery?"
Annie nods, "We could go to him."
I shake my head, "It will only get him into trouble again." The last thing I want is to be the cause of another row between Eoghan and his grandfather.
I turn and keep going along the road. I hear the soft tread of her feet behind me.
"I could… spend some time with you, if you wanted." Annie says.
"I think I'm OK," I tell her. "I was going to go down to the beach." I keep walking but she continues to follow me, just a few paces behind.
"What were you doing in the Capitol all that time?" she asks me.
I shrug, "I just went to a few parties."
"I saw you on the television," there is something accusatory in the way she says it, something confrontational in the way she speeds her step just at this moment to catch up with me. I see now. She is just like the rest of them: quick to question everything I do, quick to pass judgement.
"So? What do you know about it, anyway?" I can't help but snap at her. I just want to be left alone.
"Nothing," her cheeks turn red. "I just… wanted to know what it is like. I've never been to a party."
"What?" I begin to feel kind of bad about snapping at her now. She looks hurt, embarrassed. She's only a kid.
"I've never been to a party," she repeats in a quiet voice.
"I heard you. I just…I thought you… people aren't usually interested."
She considers me a moment, taking in my expression, thinking about my words. I have never seen someone think quite so much. Eventually she brushes her hair out of her face and sets her jaw, her decision clearly made. "You can tell me all about it on our way to the beach."
I don't argue with her. Maybe I can somehow make up for snapping at her. It won't hurt anyway, it's not like I have any great plans. As we walk I tell her about the food, about the colourful dresses that the women wear and the strange music. She laps up every word, asking me questions animatedly.
When we reach the edge of the beach there is a small group of teenagers sat over on the rocks. I pull back slightly, reluctant to go any closer.
"Don't be silly, Fin," Annie tells me, "I'm here to keep you safe." She directs me towards the right and we begin to walk along the shore, our backs to the teenagers. I am tempted to look over my shoulder, to check that they aren't following but Annie takes hold of my arm and leads me onwards, "What was the dancing like," she asks eagerly.
"Just… well everyone dances in couples."
"Show me," she insists, holding out her hands.
"I'm not going to show you," I tell her, looking over my shoulder at the teenagers. They have risen from their rock and are following us along the beach.
"Why not? It will be fun," she waves her hands insistently, clearly wanting me to take them.
"I'm not going to dance with you," I hiss at her. I don't know where she thinks we are or what those teenagers are doing but there is no way I am going dance in front of them. It is bad enough as it is.
Annie catches my gaze and the pair of us stand and watch as the group slowly pass us. Alwin Stoats jeers at me. Kane Roache narrows his eyes, "I own you," he tells me, "Remember that." The group keeps walking, laughing among themselves. I keep my eyes fixed on them until they look like ants in the distance.
"They really bother you, don't they?" Annie says.
"They hate me- everyone hates me." I throw myself down on the sand. I have had enough of walking. At least while I am sat here I know the distance between me, Stoats and Roache is getting gradually bigger. I hold my head in my hands. I should have just gone home. I'm sure I could have found something to do like move the furniture around or fix the leaky tap. Anything but this.
"I don't hate you," Annie tells me, "And neither does Eoghan. Or your parents. Or the other victors."
"Great."
She sits down next to me, digging her feet into the wet sand.
I look up slightly, watching the horizon as it glows orange in the sunset. The way the light hits the water is just... perfect. I haven't seen it in so long. It is easy to forget about these small things. I guess that is something good about being here.
"You know what?"
"No, what?"
"There is this story that mother used to tell me- I can still remembe it. It reminds me a bit of you?"
"Why because the main character is a social pariah?"
She screws up her mouth, "A bit."
"See, told you."
"But he is also brave and strong and well… misguided," she adds hurriedly. She is trying to make me feel better.
"I guess you're going to tell me about it."
"Well it's either that or you show me the dancing," she says.
"The story it is," I quickly reply. I don't have the energy to dance.
She turns away from me, squinting out at the sea, as if struggling to remember something. Her fingers clutch hold of her necklace- a tired old thing that used to belong to her mother. Then she slowly closes her eyes.
"Well, I probably won't remember all of it and I definitely won't be able to tell it as well as mother could but I'll try. It's about a man called Dylan who was washed up on the shores in some far off land when he only a very small boy. No one knew where he had come from; there were no shipwrecks or boats passing by. Some people said he came from the sea itself, born from the waves, some say he used to be a merchild, some that he just came to the beach and collapsed down upon the sands."
Each word is very precise, like she is trying to remember the lyrics to a song. I imagine her sat on her mother's lap as the same story is repeated every night before bedtime, perhaps it is an old family tale, or just something her mother made up but these things become ritualistic to young ears. I still remember every word my own mother used to sing me to sleep with each night.
"He is found by a kind old fisherman who takes him in and raises him like his own son. Many years pass and people soon forget about his strange beginnings but Dylan is desperate to prove himself, desperate to become something more than just a lowly fisherman. When he is eighteen years old a man comes to their village bearing news of a terrible sea monster that threatens the waters around the neighbouring town of Invansee. It is decreed that whoever manages to rid the town of the monster will receive great rewards and will be hailed as a hero. Of course this is too much for Dylan to resist so the very next day he takes his father's boat and sets out for Invansee to kill the monster.
"He is directed to a spot far out to sea and so he sails there and waits for the monster to come to him. The skies begin to darken and the seas grow rough but still he waits… Suddenly he sees something in the water- just a wisp of black so he takes his spear and drives it into the icy waters. However, instead of striking a terrible beast something is pulled out of the water with the spear and is thrown into the bottom of the boat. It is a beautiful woman with long flowing hair and brilliant green eyes. He is mesmerised by her beauty, his heart already full of love for her. He asks her if she is a victim of the monster and if so she should tell him where the beast is hidden. The woman shakes her head and tells him 'The monster is within me. It is me that you must kill.' So he takes his spear in hand and lifts it to strike the woman, only he cannot do it, he cannot kill her. He cannot believe that anything so beautiful could ever be a monster. It is clear that the man lied, that it was all some trick but Dylan is too smart to fall for it. He is not going to kill an innocent woman just because a man says he should. Together Dylan and the woman sail away and he carries her onto the land.
"They travel everywhere, side by side. Dylan, still determined to be a hero, follows her directions as she finds new monsters for him to face. He defeats the beast with a thousand eyes and the witch that lives on the highest mountain. He solves the riddle of the desolate mound and he explores the far reaches of the universe. He is hailed as a great hero and given both fame and fortune. Until one day… one day…"
Annie slowly opens her eyes.
"What is it?" I ask.
"I don't remember what happens next. He does something wrong- the woman tricks him- he sees her for who she is and he tries to kill her but still he can't. I don't remember what it was he did… but he isn't much liked after that. It's been so long since I heard her tell it to me," she is beginning to get anxious now as she struggles to think of the story. "I need to remember it!" she says desperately, "It's one of the only things…" she is still clutching at her necklace. "I can't believe I've forgotten."
"Surely Eoghan will remember it- you could just ask him."
"Yes," she nods to herself, "Yes, I could. I hope he remembers. Sorry I couldn't tell you all of it."
"It's all right. It was… nice." And it was. For the first time since returning to 4 I have actually had a short amount of time when I wasn't wishing I could escape back to the Capitol; where I could actually enjoy someone else's company, enjoy the sunset, enjoy the beach and the boats. "We should do it again sometime," I tell her. "Maybe do some swimming- it will be like old times."
"Yes," she says, "That would be good," She hurriedly gets to her feet, "Look, I had better go, grandfather will be waiting for me. I'll ask Eoghan about the story."
She skips away, darting around the pebbles that run along the sand. Maybe Eoghan isn't the only one that can make me forget.
