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She'd come off stage after her interview without any fight left in her. Annie had been led along by countless prodding hands she couldn't put faces too, urged into the room she'd started all of this in. The interview itself had been horrible to watch, awkward and unnerving for everyone involved. Annie had stared without seeing, answered the first few questions with single words and then lapsed into silence as Caesar Flickerman worked admirably to rescue it. She didn't care. She didn't want to speak to him. She only really wanted to speak to two people. Her Father was miles away, on the edge of the ocean. And the other... well, she didn't know if he would even want to see her now.
Annie lay on the bed, dressed in the shift she'd been wearing under whatever her stylist had dressed her in. Someone must have undressed her, because she didn't even remember putting the dress on, let alone removing it. She saw her body, cleaned and polished after her time in the arena, curled childishly on its side on the bed, but she just couldn't remember how to move it. She didn't have anything any more. Just images that flashed in front of her eyes. Terrible, violent scenes that were painted behind her eyelids whenever she tried to sleep. Everything was that and the canonfire that rang endlessly in her ears.
Annie made a noise, her lips parting slightly. She saw it again. Heard the whistle of something sharp through the air, the look of surprise on his face, the slight widening of his eyes before they fell. Then the crimson shower of droplets, the thud of something heavy hitting the grass... Her gaze was fixed on the wall, but she watched it all again for the hundredth time, oblivious to the door opening or the tread of footsteps.
Annie lay on the bed, dressed in the shift she'd been wearing under whatever her stylist had dressed her in. Someone must have undressed her, because she didn't even remember putting the dress on, let alone removing it. She saw her body, cleaned and polished after her time in the arena, curled childishly on its side on the bed, but she just couldn't remember how to move it. She didn't have anything any more. Just images that flashed in front of her eyes. Terrible, violent scenes that were painted behind her eyelids whenever she tried to sleep. Everything was that and the canonfire that rang endlessly in her ears.
Annie made a noise, her lips parting slightly. She saw it again. Heard the whistle of something sharp through the air, the look of surprise on his face, the slight widening of his eyes before they fell. Then the crimson shower of droplets, the thud of something heavy hitting the grass... Her gaze was fixed on the wall, but she watched it all again for the hundredth time, oblivious to the door opening or the tread of footsteps.
