Finnick and Annie

A Lesson from Snow

We were finally happy again. I should have known it was all too good to be true. Annie and I rarely went out in public because I was afraid people would find out we were together again, but word was bound to get out eventually. I knew I was putting Annie in danger, but I was selfish, and I couldn't stand the thought of hurting her again.

Her father began to improve quickly once the medication arrived from the Capitol. he was discharged two weeks later and moved back home. Annie went back to care for him, but she would sneak into the Victor's Village most days, and we would sit on my hammock together for hours just talking and watching the waves roll in.

I hadn't been called to the Capitol in a while, which was odd, but I assumed that since it was almost time for the games, and I'd be mentoring that year, I'd meet all my clients then—it's not like they cared that I had a job to do.

We both dreaded Reaping day, knowing the things I'd have to do while I was away from home. It killed me to think about it, and it clearly upset her too, but we both knew what would happen if I didn't go along with it. If I thought selling myself to the Capitol's elite was hard before... it was nothing compared to how tough it would be now that I had Annie back in my life.

"So I won't see you after the Reaping?" she asked me as we walked towards the plaza. It was so crowded that nobody was paying attention to us.

"No, the tributes say goodbye to their families and then the train leaves right away."

"So I guess I have to say goodbye now." She led me towards a dark alley hidden from the crowd and wrapped her arms tightly around me. I held her and kissed her with urgency. It was the last bit of her I would have for weeks.

"I'm going to miss that," I sighed as we broke apart. She smiled sadly and pecked my cheek.

"Time to go, Mr. Mentor," she said.

It was Annie's last reaping, which was a huge relief. After this one was over, the nightmare of the games would be over for her, and she'd join the rest of the district as a mere spectator.

We blended back into the crowd—he walked towards her roped-off area with the other 18-year-olds, and I made my way to the stage and took a seat next to Mags. I was glad she would be going with me this year; it was my first time as a mentor, so I would need her guidance. Plus I was also very fond of her. She had volunteered to mentor just for me, even though I knew how much it took a toll on her to do it.

"Here we go again," she whispered. "It's a lot different when you're not in that crowd, isn't it?"

"I think it's worse," I said. "Whoever gets picked depends on me to save them."

"You can't take full responsibility," she sighed. "It's good to know you tried, but you can't always save them. It's better if you're not too hard on yourself."

At that moment, Gertie walked on stage. She waved at me, and I waved back. I had stayed in touch with her after my games; I would see her at parties sometimes, and I would say 'hello,' but we were still not the greatest friends. Celia was a good friend, and the prep team loved my fame, but the only one I completely trusted and loved was Mags.

Gertie greeted the crowd and gave the usual scripted speech. She showed the movie and then proceeded to explain what an honor it was to become a victor and represent our district. Finally, she moved towards the bowls. She alternated between choosing the boys and the girls first each year, and that year, the boys went first.

She pulled a paper slip out of the bowl, and called a boy named Caspian. The crowd moved apart to make way for him. He got on stage and stood next to Gertie. He was sixteen years old, and he looked pretty strong.

"Not bad," I whispered to Mags, who nodded in agreement.

Gertie moved towards the bowl containing all the girl's names, and she dug around for a while. After what seemed like forever, she pulled out a paper slip and walked to the center of the stage. She cleared her throat and spoke into the microphone.

"Annie Cresta," she said.

"No," she gasped.

I could barely hear the crowd over the ringing in my ears. I felt like I'd been punched in the gut, but I forced myself to remain completely still and show no sign of panic. My heart raced as a I watched Annie make her way towards the stage. She seemed to be near tears and almost tripped on her way up the steps.

She looked at me as she shuffled forward; I caught the glimmer of a tear streaming down her cheek.

I kept my fists tightly clenched, resisting the urge to run to her side and carry her far far away from that place.

Annie stood next to Caspian and Gertie, who asked both tributes to shake hands. As quickly as it started, it was over. The crowd began to disperse as it did every year, with little excitement. To most citizens of District Four it was just another day—they had no idea my entire world was crumbling, nor did they care—most of them were just relieved their kids had been spared.

The new tributes were led to the Justice Building, where they would say their goodbye to their friends and family. I watched Annie as she was led away. She turned to look at me one more time, and I nearly lost my composure.

"Let's get you to the train," Mags said. She took my hand and guided me away from the plaza. It was a good thing she was leading the way or I doubt't I would have made it.

I waited and waited on the train, pacing restlessly, while Mags sat to a side and watched me with eyes full of pity.

"I'm so sorry, Finnick," she whispered.

"Why, Mags?" I asked. "Haven't I lived through enough? I just can't be happy, can I? Every time my life becomes slightly bearable, everything goes wrong,"

I collapsed on the couch next to her and buried my face in my hands. "The girl I love is about to go into that arena. If she dies..." I couldn't finish the sentence. The mere thought of Annie dying—her bright, green eyes lifeless—filled me with despair. I honestly didn't know what I would do if something happened to her.

Mags stared at the table curiously, then stood up to examine it more closely.

"Finnick," she said. "I think this is for you." In her hand, she held a black box, like the one I had received after my father's death, with my name written in neat cursive on the front.

My head spun. Snow... of course, how didn't I see it before?

I ripped open the box and threw the stinking rose away. I grabbed the note that was resting on top. Inside the tiny envelope was a small folded up picture of Annie and me kissing on the beach the day we got back together. Besides the picture was a small, handwritten note that read:

"Is Ms. Cresta paying up?

All customers deserve equal treatment."

-Sincerely, Coriolanus Snow

I stared at the note and realized what it meant. Snow knew about me and Annie, and he didn't like that I was in love. He knew it would affect my performance in the Capitol. He was trying to teach me a lesson. Annie's death would only be a means of teaching me that he was in control of my life, and that I was nothing but a product that he got to sell.