Annie stared at Cedric's body, limp and bloody. She felt her body tingle, and her eyes glaze over.
Am I awake?
"Gerald?" She asked, looking all around her. She looked everywhere besides the spot of grass where his body laid, and the rock where his head resided.
"Gerald, please, you're scaring me! Where are you?" She cried out, gripping her chest. Why am I wet? She asked herself, feeling her neck, and grimacing in pain. Pulling her hands back, she gasped. Blood.
Was I awake this whole time?
Annie was confused, and she felt dizzy, cold, and scared. She turned her head slightly to the left, and saw his head.
Gerald's brown eyes were wide open, and his mouth was still mid-sentence. He stared her down, waiting for her to follow his order.
"Turn around and do what? Al, please, tell me!" Annie pleaded, kneeling down to be at eye level with him.
No, I'm not awake. That's not his head.
She began to crawl towards him, and her hand found his hand. Annie grabbed it, instinctively, squeezing it tight.
"No, no, no, this isn't real." She screamed, feeling his cold, dead flesh. She looked at his body, tall and lean, pale and now covered with his blood.
Annie began to sob, laying her head to his chest, wishing him alive. "This wasn't supposed to happen! I was supposed to save you. Please, Al, please..."
The cannon for Cedric went off, which was proof of his death, and proof that Annie had let him suffer. When the cannon went off, she looked up again, and took notice of her surroundings.
Was that cannon for me? She reached to her wrist, feeling her pulse. No, not for me. Cedric.
Annie sat beside Gerald's body for a while, her face and body covered with blood that had dried. She ignored the stabbing pain in her neck, and continued to talk to Gerald, as though he was still there.
After a few minutes had passed, a crane came from the sky, and retrieved Cedric.
"Are they going to take you away?" Annie asked, her voice quivering. "I can't do it alone, please, don't take him away!" She yelled.
As the crane for Gerald came down, she began searching his body, looking for his token. Within seconds, she found it in his front pocket. It was a small rock from the beach, with the words "I love you" etched in it, signed by someone named Murdoch, a name that meant 'protector of the sea'. She recognized the name from school, when they read about different languages, and names that had meanings.
It must be from his father.
With the crane coming closer, Annie moved back. It picked up his body and head, and even the rock next to him.
Annie didn't know why she wanted his token, but she knew she needed it. She needed him to be with her, but this was the best she would get.
She sat and stared at the sky, the rock in her hands, watching him leave. Annie had lost count of the numbers of tributes left, and she hardly cared.
A few hours had passed, her position unchanging. There weren't anymore cannons, or weapons thrown in her direction. She knew that there would have to be a finale eventually. Would it be dogs? Bears?
Annie couldn't bother to mind what it was, she would let it take her. All she wanted was to be back in the sea, with Finnick. With Gerald. All she wanted was to wake up.
"I wish I could go swimming.. One last time." She cried, "I wish you could have gone swimming, too."
As Mags always warned, you should be careful what you wish for.
Almost on command, Annie heard what sounded like an explosion coming from behind her. Dust began flying everywhere as she turned around, and saw the dam was breaking.
It filled with cracks, and she was unmoving as it bursted open, sending a rush of water into the arena from all sides.
She didn't even have time to take a breath.
It's icy hands grasped her body, taking her under, without a second thought. Annie allowed herself to be surrounded by the water, she allowed herself to be tossed around in uncertainly. She soared into trees as they broke down, and they scratched her skin. They were defending themselves. From her, or the water?
Annie thought about a bee. They have one defense when they are scared— Stinging people. That defense kills them, and she can empathize with their fear, now.
She had killed Cedric, out of defense, because she wanted to live. Will she die, now, though? Was her defense in vein? Would she be seen as selfish for taking the life of a man, and only delaying her death for an hour? No, bees aren't selfish for it, so she must not be. They're vulnerable, and scared. So was she.
They just wanted to be safe.
And the water— The water just wants to be free, like Annie. Like Finnick. The water wants to run wherever it wants, and it wants to kill whoever it wants.
That's okay. Be free.
The water began to calm itself, settling in the arena. There was no more of it to pour out, nowhere left to run.
Annie let herself sink to the bottom, until she could feel the grass, and fallen trees underneath her feet.
Am I dreaming again? She asked herself this, still gripping the rock in her hand. Every movement she made felt like slow motion. Annie felt at peace with her surroundings, it was cold, and dark behind her eyelids, yet it almost felt like a strange form of catharsis. Forgiveness, peace, tranquility... Yes, this feels like a dream.
Annie felt the water calm down, less wild than it was before. It laid still, now, like the ocean in the night. No more violence, no harsh threats. It was still, maybe it was coming to peace with itself, too.
Is it night now? I'm getting tired.
She left her eyes closed, and longed for a blanket as she slept. Her mind trailed in strange directions, still unsure what was real, and what wasn't.
A cannon went off. Was that for me? She reached for her pulse again. No, not me. Not yet.
A minute passed, which felt like an hour. Annie was content with the idea of death until it started to take effect. She begun to think of Finnick, remembering all the memories they shared together.
She remembered the way their friendship developed. They spent days waiting on their father's to return from the sea, holding dinner in their hands. Finnick didn't like Annie at first, she was much different back then, much louder. He was a shy kid, who spent most of his time sitting alone. Annie would come up to him every day, and sit beside him, talking his ear off.
He always said that she crept up on him. By the time they were about twelve, the two of them knew they loved eachother, although they'd never admit it, out of pride and stubbornness.
Annie remembered the way Finnick comforted her when her father died. It was the first time he came up to her. He brought a lemon cookie, and hugged her tight, telling her old folk tales of the sea. By the end of it, she was still crying. So, Finnick handed her a worn piece of rope, and told her to tie nots.
"It will help you from thinking too much about it. Plus, you'll just get to think of me!"
She thought about the day Finnick was reaped, and how they confessed their love for eachother. Ever since that, their lives have been tied together. They spent every day by the other's side, scared to let go.
And here Annie was, about to let go of their future. She was about to let go of her love, of her husband.
Of their lives.
Her peace was quickly brought to a stop as the effects of drowning began. She felt a burning sensation in her chest, like a raging fire, and her eyes opened wide. Her body shook uncontrollably from the cold, trying to stay warm, trying to keep her alive.
Another cannon went off, and this time, she knew it wasn't her. For the first time all day, she was really awake. This isn't a dream. I'm drowning. I'm in the arena. Gerald is dead. I'm in the arena. I have to swim. For Finnick.
Annie gripped the stone in one hand, and swam with the other. She positioned herself so that she could push off from the ground, and tried to muster the strength to make it to the surface.
Another cannon. It sounded louder under water, and it had a rippling effect that took a few minutes to get to Annie.
She didn't know how long she was swimming before she reached the surface, but it felt like an eternity. No one ever tells you how horrible drowning is, and that's likely because no one lives to tell the tale.
Another cannon broke out just as Annie reached the surface of the water, and she took a deep breath, coughing as she stayed afloat. She opened her eyes, and saw nothing but water. It felt surreal. It felt like home.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of the 70th Annual Hunger Games, Annie Cresta!"
The water began to drain.