Silver Parachutes or Something

"Far below, I can just make out Finnick, struggling to hang on as three mutts tear at him. As one yanks back his head to take the death bite, something bizarre happens. It's as if I'm Finnick, watching images of my life flash by. The mast of a boat, a silver parachute, Mags laughing, a pink sky, Beetee's trident, Annie in her wedding dress, waves breaking over rocks. Then it's over."


8. Waves Breaking Over Rocks

Out in the bay the water breaks upon the rocks and it’s the first sound I ever hear. Even if the peacekeeper’s or the work bells woke me I’d tune into the morning piece by piece, starting with the tide. The day could not come until the waves had washed the beaches clear of night-sweat and nightmares.


I became so accustomed to the noises of the Capitol that learned to block them out but I never forgot to listen to the sea.

“When you lose touch with the sea you lose yourself too.”

It’s an old proverb in District 4 and maybe that was why I littered the floor with my broken mind when I was away. I wasn’t homesick, I was soundsick. I lost myself when the tide couldn’t call far enough to touch me. I was too far out of reach to hear the waves and I would strain along the edge of darkness trying to find the noises that could bind me back together.

Kissing Annie was the same thing.

It wiped out all the evidence; made everything new.

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