The Mermaid

Chapter 3

Katniss couldn't help the tears that streamed down her face. She couldn't go back, she just couldn't. For all she knew, Snow was already planning on her dying in that arena, and Peeta, too. Peeta!
Only one would survive, and it had to be him.
~

"Mari you know that I'm not letting you go in there," Finnick told me after we had sent Granny to bed. She was soaking wet with tears at the idea that she was going to lose me in the Quarter Quell. Handkerchiefs went flying as she sobbed. The two of us tried everything to calm her down. Only after she cried herself out did she finally let us take her upstairs. God only knows if she's getting any sleep.
This year for the Quarter Quell, Snow was reaping tributes from the existing pool of victors. In other words, Finnick was going back into the Games. It was still a possibility for me to go back into the Games, but Annie and Mags could still be reaped too. But I'm not letting that happen either.
"I'm not letting Annie or Mags go in there, Finnick! Mags is too old to defend herself and Annie would just breakdown in there!" I was practically yelling at him now. Truth be told, I was practically on the verge of a mental breakdown. The last thing I wanted was to see my best friend die in there.
"God damnit, Mari! You are not going in there!" He yelled at me through gritted teeth. His expression was crazed, distressed- unlike him at all. My eyes widened at his reaction before he dropped his head in his hands, shaking slightly. His whole body seemed to crumple before my eyes.
My face contorted into a frown. It was heartbreaking to see him this way. Sighing, I walking over to him and sat next to him on the couch. Rubbing his scalp, I seemed to calm him down enough to speak. He wiped away his tears, finally looking up.
"I don't want to go back in there," he whispered, choking up slightly. His eyes were glossy with fresh tears, and I didn't blame him. Tears filled my eyes before I blinked them back. I bit my lip to keep sobs from escaping me for his sake.
"Finnick..." My voice wavered, "I don't want to lose you. You're my best friend," I choked out. Blonde hair dangled in front of his eyes before he ran a hand through it, pulling it out of his face. He let out a distressed sigh before looking back at me. With fresh tears in his eyes, he pulled me into a tight hug. I held him in my arms as his body racked with tears. Silently I cried into his shoulder and soaked his shirt with tears. Tears ran down my nose to my lips. I licked my already chapped lips, tasting the salty tears. After a good 5 minutes, he pulled away. His face was red and splotchy and his eyes were glazed over. I probably looked the same way. Using his thumb, he wiped back my stray tears.
"Stay here tonight, okay?" I whispered to him. Finnick always stays here when he has bad dreams, and I was sure he would have some. Knowingly, I would too. He nodded as I rested my head on his broad shoulder, closing my eyes.

I woke up the next morning with Finnick sleeping on the opposite side of the bed. Last night I must've fallen asleep on the couch and he must've carried me up here.
I didn't wake up in a pool of sweat with tears in my eyes in the middle of the night, but I did have nightmares. There was one where I was sitting somewhere in the capital surrounded by all Finnick's clients. They wore ugly, brightly colored wigs and had makeup caked on their faces along with trashy, revealing outfits. They must have had plastic surgery here and there, with pastel colored skin and surgically altered eye colors. Some had tattoos crawling up their necks or backs.
We  sat around a screen and watched the Quarter Quell, where Finnick was participating. The Games were nearing an end and we watched as Finnick sat helplessly on the ground with a twisted leg and blood trailing from his nose. Dried blood crusted on his skin, small scratches and cuts all over him. He had what looked like a deep knife wound in his side, near his rib cage.
Fear was evident in his eyes, a look of horror plastered on his face. Finnick's eyes were dark, not their usual sea green color.
Careers surrounded him with devious smiles on their faces and a maniacal look in their eyes. The four resembled the Career pack from his Games, tributes that were ruthless and frightening. I used to watch his Games on tape when he was away in the Capital, but had long since stopped when he caught me. I'd paused it and fallen asleep on the couch like that. When he came home the next morning we had gotten into a fight, one of the worst we had ever gotten in, and I didn't see him for days. We ignored each other for days, and finally made up after I had an awful nightmare and needed him there to help me fall back asleep. Finnick made me promise to never watch it again, but the names of the tributes, their faces, and all the bloody, gory images of young Finnick stabbing people through with his infamous trident was burned in my mind.
The Careers held their weapons high in the air, ready to harm him at any second. The boy from District 2, a stocky 18 year old who was over 6 foot 3 named Caligula, laughed evilly, looking to his fellow Careers. Finnick pleaded with them, begging them not to hurt him. The Careers laughed evilly before surrounding the helpless man. The last thing Finnick's clients and I heard before the bomb went off was the sound of flesh being ripped into and his blood curdling scream. Around me his clients began to laugh, turning to face me with their oddly colored, beady eyes. Before my eyes they transformed into careers with a thirst for blood, baring weapons. I tried to run, but I was glued to the spot. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. The careers laughed again before surrounding me and killing me just like Finnick.
I had many dreams similar to that, and I'm certain Finnick did too.
I looked at him for a minute. He looked so peaceful in his sleep. It was true what people say, everyone looks younger in their sleep. Sighing at his sleeping figure, I reached out and gently shook him.
"Finnick..." I whispered, shaking him again. He slowly opened his eyes and sat up, letting out a yawn.
"Morning," he greeted, staring down at the bed sheets. I smiled at him, but concern was behind the sweet smile I mustered up. Finnick glanced at me, giving me a similar look. Distress was in his eyes.
"Mari, you have to promise me..." He trailed off. Finnick's smile was wiped away as he spoke, his concern and distress not hidden anymore. I raised my eyebrows, urging him to continue.
"You have to promise me you won't volunteer in place of Annie or Mags if you aren't reaped." Looking up, he finished his statement with more confidence. How do I approach this?
For a moment I didn't say anything, simply brushing out my tangled hair with my fingers to pass the time.
"Mari?" Finnick asked, pressing me to say something. He reached out and brushed a piece of my hair behind my ear, leaning his hand on the side of my head. I leaned into his warm hand, shutting my eyes as I nuzzles into his touch. Pulling away, I grabbed his hand in both of mine. I forced myself to answer, swallowing the lump in my throat.
"If either one of them go in there they will die, surely you know that?" I asked him. I couldn't lose two people I loved, reducing my family by half. It wasn't that big to begin with.
Finnick looked so disheveled, so crushed, I felt bad for making him worry even more.
"If Granny and I lose you, you know that our world would just fall apart," Finnick pleaded, his voice wavering slightly as he spoke. I was having none of this. No one was going to go in the arena for me. No one was going to die for me.
"Please Mari, please promise me," Tears formed in his eyes again as he reached for my hands. A sob escaped his lips. Up until a moment ago I was ready to yell at him about how I wouldn't let anyone get hurt for me, but the look on his face made me think a minute. His sadness is more affective than his charm, I think. At least to me, because he was technically family.
"I promise," He sighed in relief, wiping away his tears.
He nodded, but his eyes still showed distress and uncertainty. I stared down at the cover and traced the swirls on it, a habit I had picked up from Granny.
"We should get up and eat something," I finally said, forcing myself to look up at him through my lashes.
He closed his eyes and shook his head, "I'm not hungry."
Yanking the cover off of us, I rolled out of bed and stood to his side. He stared up at me, his eyes trailing up to mine.
"At least get up," I grabbed his hand and tugged gently. Finnick slowly sat up and lifted his legs over the side. He cracked his knuckles, making me cringe. Playfully, I glared at him- he knew I hated that sound. A smile came across his face as he caught my glare, sitting up. Just that small smile filled me with joy.
The two of us shuffled out of my bedroom quietly and down the stairs, careful not to wake up Granny.
Raiding the fridge, I pulled out a carton of eggs and a milk jug.
I cracked the eggs and set them on the stove, having to fish shards of the shell out of the egg before. From behind me I could feel Finnick's gaze on my back. As uncomfortable as it was, I didn't say anything.
I placed two plates down on the table, one for me and one for Finnick.
"Just in case you got hungry while I was making these," I tried to smile at him. Finnick stared blankly at his plate.  Shoving forkfuls of egg in my mouth impatiently, I waited for him to eat.
"I'm not hungr-"
"Eat," I interrupted him, my voice demanding. He cautiously looked at me, before picking up the silver fork and nibbling at his breakfast. We ate in silence, but it wasn't a comfortable one. It wasn't awkward either, just... Tense. Finnick stared down at the table while I looked at my bare feet, noticing the dirt and sand under my nails and the dry, peeling skin. My prep team would take care of that, if I were to be reaped.
"When's the Reaping?" I finally asked, looking up.
He gulped, looking back up at me, "Three days."
I nearly spit out my food. My fork clattered against the ground and my eyes widened in shock.
"Three days?" I asked, slightly agitated that it was so soon. In past years it had been weeks, maybe even a month. Seems like Snow was in a hurry to kill us off.
Finnick nodded, grabbing his plate and mine, putting them in the sink and running water over them.
A stomachache came on, something that happens when I'm stressed. I pressed on my lower abdomen, rubbing it and trying to calm my nerves.
We only had a few days to prepare for the Reaping, and only three weeks left until the Games.
Finnick was in no state to go in the arena! He was so depressed, I wouldn't be surprised if he had a mental breakdown and ended up like Annie. That would crush me.
"Finnick, Mari," we turned to see Granny at the doorway. Her hair was going in every which way, she had bags under her eyes, and her eyes were bloodshot. She was a mess.
"Granny, Mari said that she wouldn't volunteer for Annie or Mags at the Reaping," Finnick told her.  Granny's whole demeanor changed. She let out a sigh of relief, tears of joy sprung in her eyes. Had they discussed this?
Granny rushed forward, taking my face in her hands and planting a kiss on my forehead. A smile painted it's way across her face before it quickly disappeared.
"Oh, but Finnick," she released my face and turned to him, "you still have to go in, don't you?"
He nodded slowly, setting his jaw. Finnick looked back at me to read my expression. I'm sure I looked just as sad as I felt. Granny frowned before pulling him in for a hug. He hugged back, leaning down and shutting his eyes. His strong arms held her frail body gently, as though she'd break at the slightest touch.
"Well, at least you'll stay safe," she pulled out of the hug and smiled warmly at me. I hesitated before answering. When it comes time for the Reaping, will I stick to my promise? I wasn't sure if I would, but if it put everyone at ease....
"Yeah. I'll stay safe."