The Capitol's Lies || Annie Cresta's Story

Prouloge

Insanity.

There seems to be something twisted about that word, an sinister feeling hanging over it and invading its every meaning.

Insanity is supposedly a medical term, but to me, there is nothing medical about it.

It is fear, mixed with defeat and hopelessness and mingled with such terror that it breaks every little string inside and overwhelms a person until they are nothing but a shell of who they were.

Secrets. I have so many secrets, many of which I have yet to find out.

The entirety of my world and country Panem thinks I'm insane. A monster destroyed by their little games and toys and torn apart because this one time, they pushed too hard.

A small, precious handful of people know my biggest secret. If only one lets it slip, my world will crumble and burn.

It's kind of ironic, really.

I am not insane.
Not medically, as tests and doctors have told me over and over.
I am not insane.

I am not insane, but keeping that a secret is crushing enough to drive a person insane by itself.