The Story of a Mad Girl [Annie Cresta x Finnick Odair THG Fanfic]

Foreign Sounds

"Annie Cresta darling, don't be shy!" Novena beckons as she scans the crowd for the horrified face of her female tribute. I feel my heart sink. My name sounds foreign, distant.

It's not mine. It can't be.

My feet are frozen I can't move, I can't breathe, I don't even think my heart is beating anymore. Novena repeats my name one more time, this time looking directly at me.

"There you are miss Annie, come on up now," she says as she beckons me to come forward. I must have looked pretty terrified to give away my identity by looks alone. Taking a step forward, I glance around me to see the girls in my age group staring at me, all sharing the same face; Pity. My hesitant steps trigger the peacekeepers to come and latch themselves onto my arms, grabbing me and dragging me forward towards the stage. They guide me to the stairs, only letting go to have me climb the stairs alone. I hear Novena's voice echo as I near the top, "come on, dear, we don't have all day now!"

I feel my knees buckle as I try to climb the stairs, and I'm glad I do not fall. Once I'm entirely on the stage, I glance over to the victors sitting behind Novena. I see Finnick, and next to him, I see a very short elderly lady, both with their eyes fixed on me. For a brief moment, I locked eyes with Finnick, who looks almost sad, his once confident smile replaced with pursed lips and a frown.

Great. Even Finnick Odair knows I'm dead.

Ashamed, I tear my eyes away from his disappointed gaze. Having already crossed the stage, I stand next to Novena. She wraps her cold fingers around my bare shoulder, and I think I flinched because she chuckled and slid her hand down to my upper arm, eliciting a sickly chill from my already trembling body. Squeezing my arm, she looks at me and says, "Why what a wonderful tribute we have this year! You must be very proud!"

I let my eyes scan the crowd as I nodded slowly, remaining silent. Novena takes this as a cue to draw for the boys. She releases her cold grip on me and walks over to the other bowl to pick another envelope. Then, envelope in hand, she calls out his name.

"Thomas Keller!" A few seconds later, I see a tall, but shockingly thin, curly brown-haired boy guided up to the stage just like I had been a few moments ago. I can tell he's shaking because of his knees wobbling as he walks up the stairs to greet me and at the stage. Novena glances at him and repeats, "what wonderful tributes we have this year. May the odds be ever in your favor! You can shake hands now darlings," she says as she inches us closer. I look at him, and I can see my fear reflected in his wide brown eyes. I reach out, and we shake hands. With that, Novena ushers her parting words, "Congratulations to our lucky tributes and happy Hunger Games everyone!" and she begins to walk off the stage.

Following her cue, the peacekeepers latch on to me again and rush us off the stage and into the visitation building. Before I know it I'm sitting on a cold black leather couch waiting for my father to come in and say goodbye. My leg is shaking with anxiety, and I begin to replay last year's games in my head. Images of the career pack turning on the District Four tributes striking them down mercilessly flood my mind.

I can't believe I got chosen. Why is dad taking so long? How is this possible mom?

I wish she could respond. She would know what to do. Suddenly I hear the door crack open. My father rushes into the room.

"Annie! My girl! I'm so sorry!" His voice was worried, too worried for a playful nickname, I guess. I've never heard it this shaky before, either. My poor father. He must be feeling so lost, having already lost my mother and now me. I can't stand up to greet him. My legs are too weak. Sensing this, he closed the distance between us and kneeled in front of me, placing his hand on mine.

"I won't lose you too," he whispers sadly, looking down at our hands.

"I can't. I'm not a victor..." I begin.

He cut me off, "Your strong Annie. Stronger than you think. You can do it. You can hide..."

"Dad..." I plead.

"You can use a knife, pretty good at throwing them too! To cut the nets and release the trap! Get him to help you, uhh, the Finnick guy, get him to teach you how to trap the tributes as he did!"

"Dad...please," I whimper, pleading again for him to stop. My eyes begin swelling with the threat of tears.

"And you can swim...I heard this year they will have a da..."

I snap. "DAD! Please stop. Okay? Please. I'm not going to win. I'm sorry." Hot tears begin to roll down my face.

Letting go of my hand, he leans back and sighs. I see a tear roll down his tired face. This breaks me and I begin to sob. There's something about seeing my dad, the strongest man I know, cry that just crushes everything inside me. "Please Ann...You can't leave me alone. Please at least promise me you will try to come home." He begs clenching his fists on his knees.

I see his face when he looks back up at me. He looks so broken. A man on the verge of losing everything.

"I promise" I lie. He smiles weakly back at me and leans over to pull me into one last hug before the peacekeepers barge in and escort him out. The door shuts coldly behind them and I am left alone in silence.