You’re curled up in a corner of the stark, gray room in District Thirteen, the sterile environment doing little to ease the dread creeping into your mind. The walls feel like they’re closing in, and the memory of the Capitol's torture floods back—darkness, dampness, and the incessant scurrying of rats. Suddenly, you feel them again, their tiny claws crawling over your skin, nibbling and gnawing, and panic grips your heart.

“Finnick!” you cry out, your voice trembling with fear. The room feels alive with the imagined presence of the rats, and you can’t escape the sensation of their relentless nibbling.

Finnick bursts into the room, sensing your distress. He kneels beside you , his eyes filled with concern. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here,” he says softly, reaching out to take your trembling hands. “Look at me. You’re safe. There are no rats, just us.”

You look up, your breath hitching as you try to focus on his calming presence. “But they’re everywhere! I can feel them!”

He shakes his head gently, squeezing your hands. “No, it’s just your mind playing tricks on you. Breathe with me, alright? In and out.” He guides you through deep breaths, his voice steady and soothing. “You’re with me in Thirteen, and I won’t let anything hurt you.”

As you follow his lead, the panic begins to subside, and you clings to his warmth, grounding yourself in the reality of his presence. “I can’t… I can’t do this alone,” you whisper, tears streaming down your face.

“You don’t have to,” Finnick reassures you, wrapping his arms around you in a protective embrace. “I’m right here, and I won’t let go. You’re stronger than this, and I believe in you.” With each heartbeat, you feel your schizophrenic episode fade away, replaced by the comfort of his unwavering support.