A/N: This is sort-of a prequel to my full-length story, "One Need Not be a Chamber to be Haunted". While it does not directly refer to any events that take place in that story, the Annie of that story is who I had in mind when I wrote this piece.

The title comes from a poem by Emily Dickinson by the same name.

Annie

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to the 70th Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favor!" Claudius Templesmith's abnormally pitched voice echoes around the clearing where the twenty-three other tributes besides myself are arranged in a frighteningly perfect circle around the golden Cornucopia.

And then, Odds, and then….

60…

59…

58…

The countdown.

I desperately search for Jordy, but my eyes won't focus, and I can't see him anywhere. I'm alone I'm alone I'm alone.

I'm going to die alone in here.

47…

46…

45…

I knew this already – that I was destined to die in this arena, so far away from home. I only scored a four – a four for the girl from District 4, my stylist quipped through her obvious disappointment in me – the lowest score of someone from a career district in years. Jordy at least got a respectable nine. Finnick, one of my mentors, never said anything directly to me about it, but I caught some of the murmurs between him and the others; I know the wagers in the Capitol are all against me. I barely even register on the betting boards, because I'm not even a longshot. I'm less than, I'm nothing.

The odds were never in my favor.

34…

33…

Take a deep breath Ann. In and out, his melodic voice whispers in my ear. If I screw my eyes shut tight enough, I can almost pretend he's here next to me. Finnick once told me to try and center myself by doing breathing exercises before the countdown ends and the gong sounds, because once it happens, there won't be another chance. I'll be fighting not to die, right up until I do. Odds, I thought my mentor was an idiot, that it wouldn't make a difference whether I centered myself or not, but surprisingly it helps to quiet my mind a little.

My eyes focus, and I'm finally able to tell the other tributes apart from one another. The nice girl from 11 is to my right, and that scary boy from 10 is to my left. The careers from 1 and 2 are spread out randomly on the other side of the large clearing. Where is he where is he where is he?

There! Jordy is about ten tributes down from me on the right. He sees me and gives me a small salute of acknowledgement accompanied by a quirk of his lips, shooting a warm wave of comfort through my chest; I know he's attempting to assure me not to worry, that hey, this isn't too bad Annie. Jordy and I grew up together; we've never been especially close, but that doesn't matter here. Here, where we're both being chased by the terrifying specter of our own deaths.

Jordy and I are both seventeen, on the cusp of the rest of our forevers – this wasn't supposed to be what life had in store for us. All of this is so different from what we've ever been up against before. This sudden uncomfortable awareness of my mortality isn't like the constant low hum of death that lives in the background, like the waves that tease the fishermen day-in and day-out with the possibility of their ends. Now it's sharp, painful, like the pointed end of a fishhook or Finnick's famous trident. Death will snare me with its long grasping teeth, and I will have to watch it happen; in the end, I will see it coming for me.

I think of the ocean spray, the salt and the hint of damp that works its way into every part of life in District 4. I long for it now, more than I ever did when it was at my fingertips. I have dreamt of the deep swirling ocean every night since the reaping; in this moment, I wish my death could be at the hands of the waves. I think it would be a comfort, now.

29…

28…

27…

26…

Death is always biting at our heels in Panem. Whether it's lingering below the waves or waiting in the wings, it is always coming for us. I just…Odds, I didn't want it to come for me so soon. Mama and Papa, Gran and my brothers…I wasn't ready to say goodbye to them. Their faces twisting with pain and farewells after the reaping…. The memory tears at my chest.

And then…Odds, then there's Finnick. He's so beautiful it's difficult to look at him straight-on, like he's made from the sun. He's snarky and fierce, and I learned how absolutely terrifying he is when we practiced our combat skills with our mentors in the Training Center. He laid Jordy out in five seconds flat, barely blinking an eye as he did it; he didn't even bother with me. He knew – he knows – I don't stand a chance. But there's something…. When he thinks no one is looking, his face changes. He looks sad, wistful. Sometimes, I catch him looking at me like that, like he wishes things were different. Like, if only….

If they were, then maybe….

But they're not.

And I'm going to die.

I don't know why, but I know that when I am gone from this world, Finnick will be left all alone, and it breaks my heart to think of him that way. There will be no one to protect him, and he will be left to stand alone against his foes. But truly, what do I matter? It's absurd to think I would make any kind of difference to someone like Finnick Odair. That I could protect someone like him, that he would need me. I just… I'm sad to let Finnick go too.

22…

21…

I look back to Jordy, and he subtly tilts his head to the left, and I cast a quick glance behind me. There are trees that are taller than anything I have ever imagined could exist. The tributes from 7 must be pleased to see them. When I look back at Jordy, a confused look on my face, he shakes his head quickly and angles his head a bit higher, more pointedly and sniffs the air like a dog. What in the…?

But when I follow his lead and do the same, I smell it.

Brine. Heaviness in the air.

Water.

Our home turf. Our advantage, perhaps the only one we'll get.

I nod my head once to let him know I understand.

Our mentors told us to stick with the other careers as long as possible, but Jordy and I quietly decided we would take off on our own as soon as we got our hands on some supplies. We both knew I was the vulnerable one, and I would likely be the first one killed off in the career pack… if I survived at all. While Jordy and I weren't much to each other before we were reaped, now we are all we have left of home. He'll protect me as long as he can, and if I'm able, I will do the same for him.

So, we'll run towards the water, if we live through the bloodbath.

It's coming.

10…

9…

8…

In and out, Ann. Breathe.

7…

6…

Goodbye Mama. Papa. Oh Gran…. Take care of them, Jed. Bryn. Adrian…Odds, my brothers. It hurts – it's a physical pain in my heart when I think of them watching me onscreen, now in this moment.

5…

4…

3…

Goodbye, Finnick Odair, prince of a thousand enemies.

2…

May the odds be ever in our favor. Odds, look out for Jordy and me.

1…

Run.