Ashley Odair (73rd Hunger Games)

chapter 8 - Annie

“Felon,” I begin sweetly. He nods, leaning closer, wanting to hear the latest gossip. “Did you know? Poor ickle Kai has been having trouble with his nightmares. He’s awfully traumatised. And upset. He was just too scared to admit it. Why don’t you…?” I suggest. Felon nods.

“Yes, why of course. The poor boy. I’ll go check on him right this second. Thank you dear Ash. Urm, Brave Ash, for notifying me. It was most thoughtful of you.” Felon reassures me, bobbing up and down like a duck, as if waiting for something.

“You can, you know, go now.” I say uncertainly.

“Thank you dear Ash. Dear little Kai will be very traumatised, I’m sure. He’ll be most pleased!” Felon pipes. ‘Hardly’ I think. No, he’ll be ‘most puzzled’ when he hears about his imaginary nightmares. Still, serves him right. Little indeed! As Felon tiptoes out, crawl into bed again, still dripping from the shower. At this point, my stomach is groaning and whining for food, even though I ate absolutely tonnes last night. I sternly tell my stomach off, explaining how it ate the largest meal ever last night and that it couldn’t possibly still be hungry. After a hopeless minute of forced rest, I slide out of bed and accept the fact that I will have to attend breakfast, no matter how much I don’t want to. Sighing, I walk to the closet and drag on the first clothes I see. I quickly comb my tangled hair with my hands, trying to make myself presentable, but to no avail. Knowing I look a mess, I stride out of my room, trying to look proud that I look like a scruff from 12. No offence 12, but you’re not exactly beautiful. Not like Dad. Or Kai. Whoa! Where did that thought come from?? Never mind. One of us, or both of us, were going to die anyway. But Kai will soon hate me. After my revenge with Felon. My brain is now contributing to the protest about food. First my stomach, then my head. What would go next? Right. One thing at a time, I tell myself. And breakfast first, my brain and stomach demand. I speed up, practically running into the dining carriage.

“Ash. You look flustered.” Dad says. I nod and sit down next to him, the seat furthest from Kai.

“Ash! How nice of you to join us! Just in time for the croissants!” Felon says, putting on an even sillier accent, which I didn’t think was possible. I give Dad a questioning look. He nods.

“They’re like sweet bread. You dip them in your drink.” Dad says, demonstrating. I follow suit. But Dad hasn’t finished speaking. “I heard you had a fight with the shower. Who won?” he asks sarcastically.

“The shower if course. Who else would win, Finnick?” I say innocently. The use of his real name puts him off whatever he was going to say. He falls silent and continues with his breakfast. Finally, my stomach stops moaning and I pause eating. I imagine myself on the train back from the Capitol, when I was 10, back when Dad was Finnick. I catch his eye and he motions for me to leave. I do so, excusing myself as politely as possible. Kai gives me ‘look’, one that conveys questioning, hurt, anger and betrayal. Maybe he hadn’t meant to insult me after all. Too late for that though. I find myself in the aquarium carriage. Following Finnick’s instructions, I wait by the huge glass tank, even though it unnerves me. Shortly after, Finnick enters the room. All he says is

“Follow me.” As he stalks out the room. I follow him, but somewhat reproachfully. Manners didn’t hurt. I look up as Finnick steps out of the train and steps outside.

“Are we allowed out here?” I ask uncertainly.

“Probably not, but the train is rigged with all sorts of recording devices. And what I want to talk to you about is private. Everyone will want to be my friend, talk to me, have-“ Finnick begins.

“Yeah, I know. Do you think I don’t remember my 10th birthday? Blake? Mother? Jolinakin?” I reply icily. Dad looks at the floor.

“So you know what I do, who I am, when I’m at the Capitol.” Dad states. I nod.

“You’ve got to understand, Ash. They threatened me. Burnt down my house. Threatened to kill my friends, my family, to torture Annie. Hurt Mags. Destroy my life. They did for Johanna Mason.” Dad explains.

“Who’s Mags? And Annie?? Do you mean Mad Old Annie? What’s she got to do with you?” I ask. Dad looks up at the ceiling, still avoiding my gaze. “Dad, what’s Mad Old Annie got to do with you??” I demand.

“Well, Mags was my mentor, for the year I won. She’s brilliant. She helped me every step of the way. And she can make fish hooks out of anything!” Dad answers.

“And Mad Old Annie? Where does she come into it?” I demand.

“She’s not mad. She’s actually amazing. Look Ash, the thing is I-“ Dad begins. However, before he can finish his sentence, a Peacekeeper steps out and orders us inside. I make to argue, but Dad herds me inside with a firm hand before I can ‘do anything stupid.’ The Peacekeeper tells us that we are not allowed to go outside without assistance. Or there will be hell to pay. He didn’t actually say that, of course, but it was implied. I knew I would never find out what Dad was going to say about Mad Old Annie. Or just plain Annie Cresta...