Doubting Thomas: Nickel Creek.
Pacing. I was always pacing now. My mind was quieter now than it had been, but there were times it still buzzed with pointless words and phrases. Chatter.
"Annie, please sit," She motioned to the small white cushioned chair in front of her. I looked around the bleak room for cameras, mirrors, eavesdroppers.
"No," I said, shaking my head and still pacing around the room, grazing the gray walls with my fingertips.
Doctor Jacobs sighed, "Will you at least talk?" She asked me, crossing her legs and balancing her clipboard on her knee.
"About what?" I asked absently. There wasn't much to talk about. I didn't like these appointments. I never had anything to say. It frustrated me being analyzed.
The old woman shrugged, "Anything. Just talk for five minutes." She said calmly, peering from her square framed glasses.
"Two," I argued.
Jacobs smirked. "Three."
I finally stopped searching the room. "Fine," I sighed, frowning and taking my seat. "My topic?"
She smiled, picking up her clipboard again, "Anything you choose." Her voice was inviting.
"That's a broad spectrum." I muttered trying to ignore her scrutiny.
Jacobs smiled again, "That's the point. To know what's going on in your mind." She said as she started writing on the top of her page. What could she possibly be writing?
"Do you think I'm crazy?" I asked. I meant to simply stay inquisitive, but instead I became harsh, demanding an answer.
She shook her head, "No. No of course not…"
I frowned, changing my tone. "They all do," I sounded defeated, but I guess essentially I was. They all thought I was crazy out there, and I couldn't control it. I wanted so desperately to be more than just Finnick's mad lover but I couldn't ever escape from my mind.
"Why do you think that?" Jacobs asked. It was like an interview with Caesar but without all the hokey smiles and bad puns.
"Does my three minutes start here?"
"Sure," Jacobs' smile was reassuring. If she wasn't my doctor I might have trusted her more. But, like she asked me, I rambled on for as long as I could think.
"They look at me…like I'm different," I said, spouting off discontinued thoughts, uncensored and babbling, "They walk on eggshells around me. They watch their words. Am I really crazy though? I must seem crazy. Like I've gone and lost my mind. It's possible. They wanted me to, you know? They wanted me to lose my mind. Every rant, every bruise, every non sequitur, they reveled in. It's like they liked watching me squirm." I breathed, letting my mind steadily dwell back on those months in captivity.
"What did they do to you?"
I frowned, biting my lip, "Everyone asks that," I told her quietly, "They rarely hurt me. I hurt myself," I told her. There was the sound of her scribbling her notes, "I don't know when it happened," I admitted. "I just have bruises to prove it. I can't describe it. Things would just…they would just set me off. Sometimes they still do. And it's always little things. Just tiny noises or images…I don't know." I tried thinking of the few examples I had. It was mostly anything pertaining to Finnick. Sometimes I didn't know if he was theirs or mine. Sometimes it would be events with my family…but I never would know what really happened to them. Just that they were gone, and sometimes I wished I were too. "It's like my mind shuts down and another person takes over, not Annie, not me, just some other person…an intelligent pseudo form of me. One that just sputters things out…I don't know."
"Is it better here in Thirteen?" Her voice was cool and practiced which calmed me more than I expected.
I nodded. "Yes. Of course. I'm not alone and tormented with things I can hardly remember," I said with a small smirk.
"What did you not remember that you're gaining back now?"
"A lot," I breathed, "Finnick's had to remind me…like my Games. I can only recall the crowning. I vaguely remember Thomas. I know my mother…I know my mother through the literature I can recite. But everything else…everything else seems so surreal." I explained, interlocking my hands, twisting the gold band around my ring finger.
Jacobs was writing a lot now, "Describe your childhood."
I frowned. It took me a few minutes to gather my thoughts. I didn't remember a lot of it. I actually never mentioned my childhood to anyone. No one asked I guess. It ended the day Finnick was reaped in the 65th Hunger Games. I started tentatively, "Well, I grew up in Four. I spent a lot of time in the water. My dad worked on the boats, but I never went out there…my mother didn't like me out there. The water was too choppy," I told her recalling the cold waves. I missed them so much now.
"Instead, we'd sit by the shore and make nets. She'd read to me or recite poetry because she said I needed to be well read and schools were useless," I said with a mourning smile, I missed my mother so much. I wondered if she'd be proud of what I've become. "I didn't have many friends. Just one…Kelsey, we went our separate ways though. I spent most of my time at home I guess. We worked on music and art. Then we played on the beach. I miss the beach. Sometimes I would see Thomas Reed and he would skip rocks with me…but he would always run off with Finnick, so we were never close." I said, letting my thoughts drift to the two boys laughing, creating mischief in the square. I would usually see them and all their troubles out of the window of my mother's old shop.
"Where was Finnick?" Jacobs' voice was distant now as I focused on my past.
I shook my head, "We didn't know each other then." I answered airily.
"What was life like with Finnick?" She asked, redirecting my focus.
"Different," I answered quietly. "Awful at first…absolutely. Then perfect. But we never really had happiness. This might be the first time. I don't know. We're masochists, I guess." I told her. My lips folded in and my eyes watched the ceiling. I didn't have much faith in that though. In moments, it felt like Finnick and I had forever to complete whatever we wanted to, to live in whatever poor promises we had made once. But we both knew that forever comes and goes for us.
"What are your doubts?"
I sighed, letting my mind spiel inner thoughts and feelings to her, "I feel like at any moment someone's going to march in and take him away from me," I breathed quietly. The lines across my forehead deepened. "I feel like there's some unfortunate end to us looming…just looming. It's waiting for things to be perfect between us and then whatever controls our destiny…just snatches all of it away from us…" My voice trailed and I didn't try to edit my worries in front of her. Let her analyze it all, I decided.
"What's your biggest fear?" She asked, pulling for more. "Are you afraid of losing Finnick?"
I almost laughed. "No. Surprisingly. You can't be afraid of something you already lost." Leaning back in my chair, I looked back to my bruised hands, still healing from the wringing I put on them. "I don't know. All of my big fears have already played out, haven't they? It's just doubt now. I'm a cynic." I admitted under my breath. "I'm not crazy, am I?" I asked, looking up to her. My eyes were wide as I waited for the verdict.
Doctor Jacobs shook her head, skimming her notes and finally placing the pen and clipboard aside, "No. I don't think you are, just a little unsure of things as of right now. But that's normal…you've faced a lot of trauma in the past few years Annie." She told me. There was a raw honesty in her voice, and sympathy…but it wasn't like the others who just seemed uncomfortable when they sent their apologies, it was sincere. "Do you ever fall back into the Annie from the Capitol?" Her eyes narrowed in, waiting for my response.
I nodded shortly, "Sometimes. …Well, often." I admitted, raising my eyebrows at my own misspeak. "But it's all in my mind. I don't ramble as much."
"How do you get free of those thoughts?" She leaned in, propping her chin on her palm. It really was an interview.
"Finnick."
She looked concerned, but then composed, reading into my answers. "Just the thought of him?"
I frowned, "No. Whenever he reminds me of District Four," I explained. "Sometimes just silly things he says, or a song…but he just whispers little facts to me that I will try to remember, it gives me focus, I guess."
She nodded with a reassuring smile, like I had finally said something right. "Impressive," She said, then looked to the clock hanging on the wall. The one detail I had missed. "Well, Ms. Cresta, it looks like your time is up."
I smiled, "So it seems. Thank you Doctor." I said, lifting myself from the chair.
"I'll see you tomorrow." She said, shaking my hand.
It was a meeting I hadn't intended, they only enforced I see her twice a week and this had been my second session. "I'll see you next week," I corrected her.
She smiled, lifting an eyebrow, peering at me over her square frames, "Ms. Cresta?" She said with a testing tone.
"I'll see you next week." I repeated.
It was a relief to leave that room. Unfortunately, all of District Thirteen looked the same. I walked the halls back to the compartment they assigned to me. "There she is! There's my girl," Finnick greeted me. He was sitting at the small kitchen table, looking up from a book.
"Hello my love," I walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek. "What are you reading?"
He smiled, looking over the book, "I'm not sure," He chuckled. "How was it?" He asked as I sat down.
I rested my chin on the palm of my hand, "Just reminiscing," I answered airily, watching him with a small smile on my lips.
He smirked, "Dear memories with your doctor? Should I be jealous?" He asked, lifting his brow. His sea-green eyes flashed with mischief.
I shook my head, "Wasting all of that pent up energy on jealousy? Shame Mr. Odair, absolute shame."
Finnick put his book down and stood up. He reached behind me draping his arms around me and rested his chin on my shoulder, "What else am I going to do with myself? They only allow us to do so much…what with our health." He kissed my cheek then walked over to the bed and fell against it.
I laughed, "Our health? Surely, we're in top physical condition! With our scattered minds and emaciated bodies, you think we're unfit to carry out war plans?" I asked, as I turned to face him. It was a joke between us, but often a depressing reminder. If we weren't prisoners of an army, we were prisoners of our own weariness. If only we had the fresh sea air of District Four...
Finnick smiled his shy, dazzling smile, "Come here," He commanded. I walked over to him slowly. When I was only inches from him, he grabbed my wrists and pulled me into his arms. He hugged me tightly, "I've missed this," He said, kissing me on the cheek. "You know what's been bothering me?"
I smiled, draping my legs over his lap, "What?"
He leaned against the wall the bed was propped against, with me against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "Everyone always calls you Ms. Cresta," He said, twisting my left hand around in his.
"Really?" I asked in pretend shock. "The nerve of them, to call me by my name," I giggled.
Finnick smiled, but seemed to be more focused on my hand, "And you have that ring on your finger…" He let his voice trail and looked at me kissing the back of my hand.
A pang of sadness shocked through me, "Finnick Odair, are you saying you still want to marry me?"
He shook his head, "Oh, no ma'am, I just meant the ring looks like it's too loose and should be refitted, my aren't you forward." He said rolling his eyes, along with a sardonic smirk.
I frowned, "Was that a 'yes'?" I asked with a small confused smile.
He shrugged, chuckling, "Who's going to stop us?"
But his nonchalance only worried me further. "Other than me?" I asked a little frustrated with his second proposal.
Finnick stopped joking, "How would you stop us?"
"I'm crazy," I stated plainly with a small, hollow laugh.
Finn frowned with his brow furrowed deeply, "Annie…" He started.
"Seriously. I'm unstable and there are moments when I can't control my thoughts…" I started babbling.
But he stopped me, "I'm no better off." He said with a nervous, almost outraged smile, as if he didn't know what else to do.
"Yes you are Finn," I told him, climbing out of his arms. "You haven't seen me at my worst." I shook my head and walked back to the table. I looked to the book, turning it around in my hands.
It was a book on the history of Thirteen. Before I could open it, Finnick took it from my hands and placed it back on the table. He gently grabbed my shoulders and kissed me on the forehead, "I told you I'd always love you…forever. I meant it when I said it. Nothing's changed that," His smile was more outstanding each time he beamed. Finnick ran his hands through my hair, studying me. He did more of that these days. "You're too perfect to never be happy." He told me.
Guilt encased me. He deserved more than me…he really did. "You're too good to me and you know I love you so much and I just want you to be happy…which is why I don't want you to make decisions you might regret," I whispered. "Are you sure this is what you want?"
He grinned with a determined seriousness, "I've never been more sure of anything."
And although I wanted to, I couldn't smile back. I forced him to look at me instead of over me, instead of searching me. I made him watch my eyes so he'd understand the severity of our situation, "What if I don't get better Finn? What if I get worse?"
He shook his head, still smiling even though it was significantly dimmed, "You said you'd come back to me…You've always waited for me, I'll wait for you." He watched me fearlessly. He wasn't concerned about our bad luck. He had no doubt…He was convinced this was finally a safe love. And regardless of my doubts, I took that promise.