Chapter Six
I feel drowsy, as though I've been dosed with a sleep syrup. But it's not quite right because I'm not home in my bedroom. I'm in a bright white room surrounded by strange people in masks. Slowly my hearing returns to me, and I hear beeping and whirring. I glance down at my body and see a dozen tubes protruding from my arms. My heart begins to beat faster and I'm gasping for breath.
A strange face turns back to look at me. "The sedative has worn off. Her heart rate is spiking."
"She's a red head. She'll need more." Another person approaches me, and pushes a syringe into one of the tubes attached to me, and my vision begins to fade.
I break through the haze again, blinking my eyes open, and find I'm down to only one tube coming from my arm. What are they doing to me? I wonder, but when I look up again, I'm puzzled to see a tall man with white hair and a white beard next to a masked woman with blue hair. Why is the president here? A man and a woman in dark suits stand behind them, one of them writing notes on a clipboard.
"As you can see, President Snow," says the woman with blue hair, "the Victor is progressing nicely. Her injuries have all been repaired and she's received a full-body polish. She'll be ready for her recap and interview in two-days' time."
"Yes, but what of her mental state? She was not exactly stable during her last few days in that arena," President Snow says.
"All Victors are a bit shaken up straight out of the arena. But we've seen nothing to suggest any lasting damage."
President Snow pauses. "I hope that's true, Luscinia. I hope that's true." He turns to address the man with the clipboard. "Gaius, remind me to find the Game Maker who created the earthquake and make them pay. It's truly a shame that six tributes were killed in that flood. Miss Cresta should never have been the Victor."
"But sir, the flood was an accident caused by an aftershock."
"Yes, but what caused that aftershock? The initial earthquake. Don't make me punish you for your stupidity, too, Gaius."
After they leave, Luscinia turns and sees that I'm awake. She rushes over to push a button, and I feel myself being pulled back to sleep.
When I'm finally allowed to remain conscious, I'm given a small bowl of broth and a puffy white roll to eat. I know that my body is hungry—it must have been several days since I last ate, but after drinking the broth, I'm only able to take a few small bites of the roll before I worry I'm going to throw it all up.
Luscinia helps me out of bed. I feel shaky and cold in the air and the sterile white room provides no sense of time. Luscinia walks me to a shower in an adjacent room where she instructs me on what buttons to push to properly clean myself.
It's strange to have a full range of motion again. The pain in my shoulder is completely gone and aside from feeling shaky, my muscles are not stiff or sore. No signs of scars or wounds on my body either—even scars I've had for years from chopping vegetables and being clawed by cats. It's strange to see my skin so perfect, though it hangs a bit too loosely around my bones now.
I'm toweled off and dressed in a thin cotton robe when I hear a familiar voice in a Capitol accent.
"There she is, our newest Victor!" Yardley rushes over to kiss my cheeks, and I hope her bright pink lipstick didn't smear on my face. "My dear, follow me. Your stylist is ready to make you up for the recap tonight."
My meager meal threatens to come up for the second time when I remember what comes next in the agenda. I'll be forced to watch a recap of the Games in front of an audience, and then tomorrow I'll have another interview before I'm free to go home. I don't know how I'm going to get through any of this.
"Where's Mags?" I ask, needing her support and advice.
Yardley frowns, "Mags is busy, but she'll meet up with you before the recap begins."
I laugh, but I'm not sure why. Embarrassed, I keep my head down, not wanting to see Yardley's judging stare as she leads me to the prep room.
Albina and the rest of the prep team are waiting for me, and I jump when I hear the prep team squeal. My heart is still pounding when Yardley says her goodbyes, and Albina approaches me, her eyes looking me up and down.
"My starfish. They did a good job with the full body polish. You lost quite a bit of weight, but don't worry, that's very fashionable here in the Capitol." Her velvety voice is soothing to me.
I feel exhausted, even though I've only been up for a couple of hours. I kept my eyes closed while the prep team did their work. The bright colors and constant movement were too much. Their conversation was non-stop, excitedly discussing where they were and what they were doing during the big events of the Games. I think I black out for a while because Yardley has to shake my shoulders to wake me before I step into my dress and she touches up my hair.
She's dressed me in another gown, this one flowy and a pale blue that reminds me of the water that came from the dam.
"Good thing your makeup is waterproof," Camry says, and I realize that I've started crying. My eyes fixed and blurred on the ruffles of the dress in the mirror. I feel shaky and unstable, a heavy burning pit in my stomach. I hate the dress. I want to tear it off and hide in a corner. But instead, my face is dried off and makeup retouched, and I'm pushed out of the room.
Relief fills my soul when I see Mags and Finnick waiting outside. The air is balmy and smells strange. Artificial lights are shining brightly in all of the buildings around us, even though the sun has yet to set. Without thinking, I walk right into Mags's arms. She returns my embrace and I find myself actually connecting with the present for the first time in I don't know how long.
"Felix?" I ask, wondering why it's Finnick and not him here with Mags to greet me.
"He went home after Miguel died." Mags says.
Miguel. I feel panic rising in my chest and look around, searching for him. What did she say happened to him? There's still time. I have to save him.
It's Finnick that brings me back to reality. "Annie," he says, reaching out tentatively to touch my arm, "You're not in the arena anymore. You're safe."
I look up and lock eyes with him. The sea-green color reminds me of home and makes me feel safe. I take a deep, shuddering breath. "They fixed my body up so easily. Why couldn't they fix my mind, too? I'm not okay and I haven't been since that day. Holding onto reality is so hard, and all I want to do is hide and cry." I try to keep from crying, but I'm not good at it anymore and I feel my eyes hot with tears that spill onto my cheeks.
Finnick smiles grimly. "The Capitol cares more about appearance than about actual health. I'm sorry, Annie. I know it must be really hard for you."
"For tonight, you just have to make it through the recap. After the introduction, all you need to do is sit there. Do you think you can do that?" Mags asks.
No, I want to say, but I don't want to let them down. I wipe my face, hoping my makeup hasn't smeared. "I'm so embarrassed. I'm too broken to be a Victor. Even the President thinks so."
"Who told you that?" Finnick asks.
"I overheard President Snow say it himself. Or something like it. At least, I think I did. It's hard to tell what's real and what's not." Finnick and Mags look at each other, communicating something in silence. I'm confused about my memories from the last week. It doesn't make sense for the President to have visited my hospital room, does it? Surely, he'd have more important things to do.
"Trust me," Mags says, turning back to face me. "Nobody is okay after surviving the Games. Being shook up does not mean you're any less of a Victor than anyone else. You're strong, Annie. And we'll be here for you."
"Yeah, for once I don't have anywhere to be but here," Finnick says. "You can have me all night if you want." He gives a wink, and it's so strange that I laugh, the sound escaping me like bubbles in the ocean.
I'm sitting in the chair opposite of where Caesar Flickerman will be, trying to focus on the sparkle of my gold-painted nails when Caesar comes up behind me and clasps my shoulder. I jump, then turn to see it's him. Flooded with relief that my life isn't currently in danger, a laugh escapes me, and I'm glad that I'm at least laughing now instead of crying.
"Good to see you're in a good mood, Annie." Caesar says. "Tonight should go pretty quickly, but we're all dying to hear your story tomorrow night."
I smile up at him, not sure of what to say. His midnight blue suits sparkles in the harsh stage lights.
Someone counts down from five, and then Caesar is introducing me as the Victor of the Seventieth Hunger Games, and before I know it the lights are dimming, and there's a projection of my face on a big screen in front of us.
The next two hours are almost more torturous than being in the Games. The editors must be somewhat aware of my condition, because Miguel hardly makes any screen time, even though he and I were together so much. Seeing the faces again of all of the people who died, especially the girl I killed, causes a deep pain in my stomach, and I curl in on myself. I try to focus on my breath when the Games start. The images of me climbing out of the basin, scanning the surroundings, and making my way to the canyon make me seem smart and put together. So different from how I feel now. There are a few scenes that cut away from me and instead show the other tributes in combat, but there's no escape when Miguel and I make our way to that river.
I can't do this, I think to myself, trying to stop myself from screaming. I'm still bent over, and I don't care anymore if people can see me. I can't watch the rest of this. I cover my eyes with my hands and stretch my thumbs out to plug my ears, hearing only the rushing of my blood and my breath until I feel a tap on my shoulder. Caesar is beckoning me to come out of my cocoon. I can't tell if his face shows displeasure or concern, his bright-yellow eyebrows lowered just a bit before he turns back to the screen with his wide smile on his face.
I must have been allowed to stay like that for a while, because when I look back up at the screen, I see myself squeezing into that dead tree. It turns out that there really was a camera inside there, and it's surreal and embarrassing to see myself reacting in fear to things that weren't there. It turns out that I was in there for two days, and I missed a parachute that was sent to me. I wonder what was inside it. The two days are condensed into short clips that last a few seconds each. I mustn't have been too exciting to watch, but I'm grateful it's short. I don't want to see myself like that.
When the day of the earthquake comes, everything slows down, and we see where each of the remaining tributes were and what they were doing leading up to the quakes. Then we see me and the girl from One running through the trees before the water bursts through the dam and I watch in painful slow motion as each of the remaining tributes dies in the flood.
The recap ends as I'm clutching the ladder and pulled from the water, a triumphant song playing to celebrate my victory.
I wake the next morning feeling numb. Mags had given me some kind of sleeping medicine, different from the sleep syrup I'm used to, and I slept deeply without any dreams.
Finnick was there when I fell asleep, chatting with Mags in the common room just outside my bedroom, but he's nowhere to be found in the morning.
I feel sick all day, my heart heavy as I'm am plagued by visions of all of those dead tributes. I stay in bed as long as possible, and no one bothers me until Mags knocks gently on my door to let me know that it's time to get ready for my interview.
"Just a few more hours and then you'll be free to go home," she tells me.
I'm relieved when Albina puts me in her signature purple, a floaty dress that goes down to my ankles in tiers that remind me of jellyfish.
"It's truly been a pleasure working with you, darling," Albina says, cupping my face with her hand. "Good luck on your interview. I'll see you again in a few months for your Victory Tour."
I'm seated back on the chair opposite of Caesar Flickerman when it finally sets in that even though I'll be free to go home after this, it's not the end. I'll have to be back here and even be paraded all through the country for my Victory Tour. And then every year I'll have the chance to come back here to mentor another tribute, and watch dozens of more people die. I don't know how anyone does this.
My hands are sweaty and trembling, and I think I feel a trickle of sweat down my face when the signal that we're on air happens. I quickly brush my hand across my forehead to wipe away the sweat, and turn to Caesar. He's looking at me expectantly, as though he's already said something, but my ears mustn't have been working right because all I could hear was the pounding of my heart.
The best I can do is give him an apologetic smile.
"Look at you, Annie, so new to your fame and yet still so sweet. But you can't keep that mysterious front with us anymore. Tell us, how are you feeling now that you're Victor?"
Mags coached me on a few responses I could use during this interview. "I feel lucky. I'm thankful for my sponsors who helped me in the arena."
"But you know your sponsors didn't help you survive everything, Annie. Your strength did. Now tell us, how did you feel when you were fighting the other tributes, or that ginormous crocodile? I think I'm speaking for us all when I say I've never seen such a creature as that before. And yet, you killed it as though it were nothing more than a mouse. That caught all of our attention."
Images swirl through my mind, and despite my efforts, my panic is still rising. What did Mags say? I open my mouth to give a response, but instead, a laugh comes out. It's a strange response, I know, but I can't help it. I look around quickly to see how others are reacting. Caesar gives me an inquisitive look, still waiting for my answer. I clear my throat and try again. "It was my body that took over, mostly, and I just did everything I could to survive. I threw that dagger with all my might, and was glad that it worked to stop the crocodile," I say, trying to skip over the part where I killed another human being.
But Caesar won't let me get away with it. She was my only kill, after all, and the Capitol loves the violence of the Games. "And when you stabbed Cress from District Six, did you know you'd dealt a death-blow, or were you planning to finish her off after you'd helped your ally?"
Cress. That was her name, I think. And suddenly, she's there in front of me, lying on the ground in pain, blood seeping through the side of her shirt. "You did this to me," she says, and I can't deny it. I want to comfort her, but I'm not sure how. Her eyes lock onto mine and I see the wrath behind them.
I hear my name and the girl in front of me vanishes. "Annie? Are you with us?" Caesar asks. He's smiling but his brow is furrowed in concern.
I blush, unsure of how much time has passed since he asked the question. "Sorry," I say.
"It's okay. Let's move on, shall we? Now, all of us here in the Capitol were impressed with your swimming skills. Even with a fractured shoulder, you swam through rushing water and debris. You survived the flood that killed six other tributes. How did you do it?"
I begin to hear the rushing of water in my ears, and briefly put my hands up to stop it before realizing how it must look. I force myself to keep my hands down and continue despite the noise. I swallow, trying to gather my words. "I used to go diving for shells. At the beach at home. I could hold my breath for up to seven minutes if needed." I look over my shoulder to the wing on the stage where Mags is standing, hoping her face will help me remember what I should say next. "That was my special skill that I came into the arena with, and it was the one that saved my life in the end."
"Indeed it did," Caesar replies. "And what a skill it is. I don't think there are many people who can claim holding their breath for seven minutes the way you can."
I smile, but can only manage to keep it on my face for a split second. "Thank you," I say, before looking down at my lap.
"You're welcome. You earned it! Our very own Victor. Now," Caesar hesitates as though he wants to ask something but isn't sure if he should. "This may be a sensitive subject for you, but I don't think our country would be satisfied if I didn't ask you about what happened after your ally Miguel was killed. It seemed to have quite the impact on you. Tell us, what was going through your mind in those moments when you were in that tree?"
"I—" I try to speak, but I'm distracted by a medical team wheeling out a medical bed in the front of the stage ahead of me. They turn the bed around and adjust it to sit up. In the bed is Miguel's decapitated body, his head laying in his lap, mouth slack and eyes looking up to the sky just as it was on that day.
I scream and stumble out of the chair. Why would they do this? Why can't they just let him rest? I can't get the image of his face out of my mind. I'm frantically looking around for an escape, but the world has gone blurry. I curl in on myself, hugging my knees to my chest, and try to keep from crying.
A warm hand shocks me back to myself, giving me enough calm to uncurl and look up. And when I look at the front of the stage, that bed is gone, and now I'm not even sure it was there in the first place. I look behind me and see Mags, her mouth pursed and eyebrows knit together.
I hear the muffled sound of Caesar's voice, and the anthem plays.
"It's okay, Annie. You can get up now. We're going home." Mags says, and she helps me to my feet.
My cheeks burn in shame. What is happening to me? I don't know if that medical bed was real. I don't know why I couldn't handle the interview like a normal person. It's all I can do to keep the burning tears from leaking out of my eyes.
"Crazy." I hear as Mags walks me out of the recording studio and through the hallway, passing dozens of people, their eyes all on me.
"Couldn't even keep it together long enough to be crowned by the President. What a waste."
"The Mad Victor," someone else says, and a few people erupt in laughter.
I can't keep the tears in any longer and they fall fast and hot on my cheeks.
"Hey!" I hear a shout. It's Finnick's voice, angry, but I'm not sure where he came from. I see him rushing towards the people that were laughing at me, but I don't hear what he says next.
Somehow Mags is able to help me up onto the train. I collapse onto the plush couch in the train car, hiding my face in the cushions, and begin to sob loudly. I can't control it. All of the emotions I had tried and failed to keep down come spilling out.
I feel Mags sit beside me, and she puts her hand on my back once more.
"What's wrong with me, Mags? Why can't I be normal?"
"I don't know, child," Mags says. "I'm so sorry."
At some point, I must have fallen asleep. I wake in the early morning light and find I've been covered by a soft silver blanket.
I feel drained from the night, but with that feeling comes a kind of peace.
There's a Capitol attendant making coffee and setting out pastries. I'm grateful there's coffee—I think I'll need it today. Even though we're going home, I know there will still be cameras when we arrive, and I'll have to put on a brave front once again. If I can do it this time.
Finnick walks into the train car, and sees me. He gives me a tentative smile and says, "Good morning," his voice coming out in a kind of purr. He grimaces. "Sorry, it's become a habit."
I'm not sure what he means by that, but I get up and try to smooth my hair. I must look a mess, but Finnick doesn't say anything. Instead, he pours two cups of coffee, adds cream and sugar, and hands me a cup. He sits next to me on the plush velvet couch, and we drink in silence, only the sound of the quiet clinking the chandelier makes above us.
After I've gotten up to get us both some pastries to eat, Finnick chuckles to himself. "I just remembered the dream I had last night."
"Oh?" I ask, curious what he dreams about.
He chuckles some more. "Yeah, so I think it started out with me waking up and realizing I had gone bald. I mean, imagine, all of this luscious hair, gone." He runs his hand through his hair, making it fall in perfect waves. "I went to Mags to see if she could help, and you were there too and you said you knew this dolphin that could restore lost hair. So you and I went down to the ocean, and it ended up being a whale that came out of the water when you called it. But instead of growing my hair back, it grew me a beard that went down to my toes." He laughs again, and I join him—a real laugh that makes me feel so much lighter—I haven't laughed like this in a long time. "Where this stuff comes from, I'll never know."
"Well, maybe you have a secret desire to grow a really long beard?" I suggest.
Finnick strokes his chin. "You may be onto something, Annie."
"Onto what?" Mags asks, and I startle. I hadn't realized she'd come into the train car.
"We were just discussing the future of my facial hair. How do you think I'd look with a long beard?"
"Ridiculous," Mags says, but she's all smiles when she turns to get her breakfast.
I'm feeling more stable when we arrive at the train station, showered and dressed for the day. Mags leaves the train ahead of me, and Finnick follows close behind me, and I wonder if they'd planned to create a kind of cushion as we left. Cameras are there, waiting for us, as is a crowd of people from the District. I scan the crowd, searching for familiar faces, and find my father, and a few rows back, there's Shelley, a big smile on her face.
I try my best to smile, and I wave to the crowd. After a few minutes of that, my father approaches and gives me a stiff side-hug. The cameras are soon packed up and the crowd slowly disperses.
Shelley comes up to me and gives me a hug. "I always knew you could do it."
"No you didn't, you said you'd bet on someone else," says a male voice behind her. A boy slings his arm around Shelley's shoulder, but she turns to punch him. It's a playful punch though, not one meant to cause real harm.
"Shut up!" She says.
I watch them, awkwardly. It takes me a minute to take in the boy's face, his tanned skin and dark hair, and remember I met him the day of the reaping. It feels like a lifetime ago.
I feel slightly sick to my stomach, and I'm relieved when Mags puts her hand on my back and tells me it's time to go.
"Thanks for coming to see me," I say to Shelley, before following my father, Mags, and Finnick to the cars that will take us home.