It has been a good 2 or 3 months since Chapter 5, and I beg for your forgiveness for that long absence. I actually wrote this about a month ago, but I've been really busy. Anyways, here is Chapter 6. Don't forget to review :) Enjoy!
My stomach is growling, so I gobble up as much food as possible. I don't think I ate at all yesterday. It was much too confusing. I honestly don't know which part of yesterday was real and which part wasn't. Well, at least last night's sleep was dreamless.
I eat up the boiled egg and toast in front of me. As I chew, I notice Harold staring at me from across the table. I still remember when he helped me yesterday. Or was that a dream? I don't know.
Trying to remember yesterday makes my head throb so I try to clear my mind. I grip Finnick's arm and shut my eyes as tight as possible. This usually helps. My mind spins as a million thoughts rush in like speeding trains. I push it all out with all my will. I can tell that all this effort shows on my face.
When I open my eyes, everyone at the table is looking at me with concern.
I stay in the room for the rest of the day, trying to sleep, but of course I can't. While I wait for Finnick to come back from training, I start braiding my hair in the intricate braids that my mother taught me. By the time I finish, there's a knock on my door.
"Dinner's ready!"
I walk into the dining room and Finnick hugs me and lightly kisses my forehead.
I ask him, "How was it?"
He looks up from the piece of meat he was cutting. "It went great. I think I might want to form an alliance with Katniss, though."
I can't help feeling a bit jealous. "Really? Why?"
He looks at me with such enthusiasm. "I saw her shoot with a bow and arrow. For real. She was really, really, really good."
Now it's a different kind of jealous. I want to see her shoot, too. But I don't want Finnick to know this childish wish of mine so I just say a little "Oh."
I go back to my room and sit on the bed. I think of whatever's coming tomorrow. Finnick has training, and what about me? What'll I do tomorrow? Maybe I can just braid some pieces of strings. If Finnick can tie complicated knots using ropes, I can make complicated braids using strings, too. Just as I think of this, Finnick comes in.
"Hey Annie, do you usually wake up early?"
This confuses me. Something's just not right. It's either Finnick's ridiculously jolly, jumpy mood or just this weird, random question. Probably both. So I just lie. "I don't think so. I'm planning on staying inside my room until quite late in the afternoon."
His face brightens up just the smallest bit before going back to normal.
"Oh, okay then." He walks to me and lightly kisses my forehead. He looks at me with those ocean blue eyes and for a moment, I feel like I'm back home. I can actually smell the salty air and hear the rush of the sea. I feel the wind blowing in my hair and in that moment, I was really lost in his eyes.
That night, I dream of being back home. Sitting on the soft sand while the waves lap over our feet and Finnick ties knots. Walking down with the water up to our ankles. Hearing the sound of seashells clinking together from the wind chime at home.
I can't help but smile a little when I wake up.
As I munch my breakfast, Finnick is talking about strategies with Harold, and Harold's actually giving advice. It's the last training day. The day everyone has to show their skills in front of the Gamemakers. Finnick has no idea what to do, since they already know he's handy with the trident.
Harold finally asks, "What else are you good at?"
Finnick takes a moment to answer. "Well, I guess I can use a sword as well. Or I can just tie some knots."
Harold laughs a loud booming laugh and I can't help but wonder if it was really a laugh. It sounded a bit fake, actually. No. Harold is not a bad guy. You need to get this out of your mind, Annie. No. You have to learn to trust more people. I find myself staring at Harold so intensely he actually notices.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
"N-nothing," I stammer.
I get up from the table and start walking to my room. But I still can't shake off the feeling that's he's up to no good.
When Finnick comes back from his session with the Gamemakers, I drag him with me.
"Finnick, I-"
"I know you're worried. But it's all going to be fine, Annie."
I look into his startling blue eyes and firmly say, "Finnick, I have a bad feeling about Harold."
He looks back at me with such intensity I end up looking away.
"Why would you say that?"
I snap back at him. "I don't know! I just have a weird feeling!"
His eyes show sadness mixed with pity. There's a little bit of something else too that I can't quite put my finger on. He hesitates. "Annie-"
I cut him before he can make up some excuse as to why I'm acting this way, which is probably that I'm crazy. Crazy, crazy Annie.
"I get it. I'm the poor, mad girl from District 4, so anything I say will probably just be nonsense!"
I scream out the last few words.
I slam the door behind me and lock it. I slide down and hug my knees. Even Finnick thinks I'm a lunatic. Well, I am, but that doesn't mean my opinions don't matter. I just want him to be safe. I don't want anyone -like Harold- to hurt him. I cry with my head on my knees.
When I wake up, I'm starving. I get up and walk to the window. It's already morning. I missed dinner. Again. I walk out, not really caring the state in which I'm in. No one would judge me if I go out looking like a lunatic, -just one benefit of being crazy- since I am one.
As I walk in, I see the people at the table and my head automatically starts to spin. I see them again. Plutarch, Haymitch and Finnick. I stop short and gasp. Finnick puts his arm across Haymitch's chest just as he kicks his chair back. Plutarch puts on a thousand-watt smile for some reason. I collapse to the ground. Odd thing is, I don't black out. I just sit there staring at the scene. Haymitch is finally calming down, and to my horror, Plutarch is making his way towards me.
I squeeze my eyes shut. This can't be real. It's not real. It's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real. Finnick said it was a dream before; it has to be a dream now. I pinch my arm to wake up. When I open my eyes, Plutarch is still there. Finnick is nearby, with much regret carved on his face.
It feels as if someone just dropped a ton of weight on my chest. I'm overflowing with emotions. All of my words are stuck at my throat. I can't seem to get them out of my mouth. I can't even think properly right now. I can't get up. I can't move. I feel like one of those Capitol machines that have stopped working. Freezing there, unable to do anything.
Finally I manage to gather up strength and words, and my voice comes back.
"YOU LIED! YOU LIED, FINNICK! WHA-"
He takes me in his arms but I struggle.
"No! Why would you do that? Just-" I break down crying and he hugs me tighter. I weakly punch him over and over again.
"I'm sorry, Annie. I'm sorry."
