𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫

THIRTY-SEVEN

xxxvii. The Bombs

Cries of fear sounded with every horrifying rumble. It lasted for hours and at every moment, the citizens of District Thirteen feared the roof would collapse upon them. Some even wished for it, if only to make the chaos end. They hid in the safety of their respectable bunk beds, everyone was holding someone. Family members, friends, and even strangers.

Finnick was holding Annie.

Her red hair stayed secure beneath his arms for what felt like hours. When the entire bunker turned pitch black and nothing but terrified screams echoed all around them in the darkness, Finnick was grateful to have something to hold onto. With Annie in his arms, he knew none of it was in his head, and the danger was real. He could handle real, but he stood no chance against the horrors of his own mind.

After many prayers were uttered and tears spilled, things had finally gotten under control. District Thirteen was trapped in the bunker for longer than they had hoped. Days of living off of small rations, trapped in their small respective areas grew exhausting very quickly. Even after living underground for months, it was clear the hundreds and thousands of feet of soil that laid above them began to take a toll as citizens panicked at the fear of suffocation.

Finnick did what little he could to help those around him. He engaged in small conversations of reassurance with the small family neighboring his small bunk. A single mother with two younger sons, both of which were teetering near the age of ten. At times, he would lend the younger boy his knot when the hours were dreadful.

It was nearing the nighttime of their second day when Finnick once again lent the boy his knot, though he thought it was morning. He and Annie sat beside one another, admirably watching the two boys engage in a quiet chatter only they could hear. In a way, Finnick saw himself in them, almost hearing his and Aurora's anxious talks of the future in his ears.

"How long is this gonna last?" Annie mumbled, holding her knees to her chest.

Finnick didn't have an answer. He wasn't even sure they were ever going to leave. "Another day maybe. Just to be safe. Then we can get back to our rooms."

"I-I don't think I can do this anymore Finnick," she admitted, her voice uneven. So far, she had managed to keep her composure besides a few short moments of panic. Without Finnick, she was sure they would've lasted hours. "When this is over, we're going straight home."

"Annie," Finnick began, his voice remorseful for the worried girl. "We can't go. We're safer here."

"I don't feel safe," she whined her breathing pace quickening. "These people aren't as nice. Especially when you're not around."

He turned to her concerned. Annie Cresta was no stranger to judgment back when she was under the spotlight. And now, as a victor, he wasn't surprised at how District Thirteen treated her when they treated him the same way.