The ocean was, yet again, at peace with itself. It had watched the sun rise another day, feeling the warmth it brought. While the moon was beautiful, full of grace, she could not provide the comfort of the sun.
As the sun rose, so did the world. The birds began to sing their pretty songs, and the waves began to crash against the shore. The fishermen of District Four loaded up their boats, and set sail.
The wind went wild this morning. Tossing sand and salt wherever it could. Almost as though it was sending a message, reminding the District that there wasn't any peace today.
The ocean was, yet again, at peace with itself. The sun rose from its nightly grave, warming the world, yet again. District Four was silent today, and for good reason.
The fishermen did not board their boats, the birds didn't sing. Despite the silence, the wind went wild, and so did the ocean. Wild waves crashed against the shore, and it was simply uninviting.
Annie day on the shore, letting the waves crash over her. It was reaping day, and it was her last one. She breathed out a sigh of relief, dreading the moment names were called. What would happen if she had gotten picked? No, that's practically impossible.
But what if?
Her mind felt as though it was running a race, spinning through the possibilities of the day. Panic began to set in. She imagined herself getting picked. How would Finnick react?
What if she went into the arena, and was killed during the bloodbath? What if she got in with the careers, and they slit her throat when she was no longer useful? What if... she won. How many lives would be her fault?
What if she went into the arena, and never saw Finnick again?
Her thoughts spiraled, going deeper, and deeper. She pictured her portrait in the sky, and imagined her mother mourning her death.
No, that's impossible.
"Annie!" Finnick called from the back door of their home. "Love, we have to start getting ready!"
With that, she got up, wringing out her hair. Upon walking inside, she was met with a large towel.
"Dont be messing up my floors, I just cleaned them." Finnick teased, smiling at her.
She grabbed the towel, but didn't smile in return. She dried herself off, and went upstairs to get dressed. Finnick just stood there, confused.
It felt strange to him when he couldn't get her to laugh, or smile. He brushed it off, assuming she was just stressed about the day. It was normal, but she didn't have anything to worry about. Neither did he.
He followed her upstairs, and into their bedroom. They got dressed and ready in silence.
Finnick sported a white turtleneck, and brown pants, with nice dress shoes. He didn't bother with his hair, he could never get it to go the way he wanted. Annie threw on a dark green dress, which hugged her figure nicely. Her long hair was wild, and no matter how much she brushed it, she couldn't seem to get it tame.
Finnick walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Do you want me to braid it for you?" She nodded in response. "One or two?"
"Two," She spoke, quietly.
Her braided her hair quickly, humming a slow song. "There. You look beautiful, love."
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The pair walked to the Reaping separately. Annie met up with her mother, and Finnick met up with Mags. While he wasn't going to the Capitol, he still had to sit onstage with the rest of the Victors. For the first time, he didn't feel scared going to the reaping. His heart ached for whoever was called, but he knew that after it was over, he'd be asking Annie to marry him. That brought him peace.
Annie spoke with her mother, telling her how nervous she was for today. Her mother calmed her, reminding her daughter how fortunate she was, and she was only entered seven times.
They stayed together until Annie got her finger pricked, and then she was all alone. She joined the other girls her age, and instantly felt alienated. All of them had resented Annie when Finnick chose her, as if there had ever been competition. Everyone wanted to be with the Capitol's Golden Boy.
Annie zoned out through the opening statements. It was always the same speech, and the same video. She was convinced that it had never changed, and that it would never change.
Their district escort, named Sylvia, was wearing a bright blue wig, and a sea-green dress. She was trying to hard to capture the ocean, as she did every year. Once, she showed up with blue skin. Annie could never imagine altering your appearance as much as the people in the Capitol did. She didn't like her looks by any means, but she didn't want to look fake.
Sylvia smiled at the crowd, and spoke loudly into the microphone. "Now, it's time to find our female tribute!"
Her heels clicked loudly as she walked towards the bowl, reaching her hand in, and picking the name.
Everyone in the district held their breath. Who's child was going picked? Who's sister?
"Our female tribute from District Four is.." She paused, opening the slip of paper. "Annie Cresta!"
No.
That can't be right.
Annie must be crazy, it wasn't really her, was it?
Everyone began staring at her. Finnick felt tears well up in his eyes.
She looked around, her mouth hanging down in horror. No, it must be someone else. It couldn't be her.
Just as she thought that, peacekeepers came up behind the small girl, escorting her to the stage. Her body shook vigorously. She looked to Finnick on the stage, a tear escaping her eye. She looked to her mother in the audience.
Was everyone able to hear her heart beat? No, they probably couldn't. Don't look scared, Annie.
Annie stood beside Sylvia, brushing the tear from her eye. She looked towards the audience, taking it in. She knew this was the last time she would look at the people from home.
"Any volunteers?" Sylvia asked, and when she was met with silence, she moved towards the other bowl. "Our male tribute is.. Gerald Sinclair!" She called out, smiling as the boy walked up to the stage.
He was tall, and muscular. He had dark brown hair, and a wide smile. Was he putting on a show, or was he excited to be chosen?
"Here they are, our tributes from District Four!" Sylvia said, grabbing both their arms and pulling them up.
Annie began to count the faces of the people she knew, trying to remember everyone's names. She got to forty seven before she was dragged away, and then she was screaming.