"Got some thoughts in my chest, they're playing games with my head." — Foster the People, Chin Music for the Unsuspecting Hero
The waters aren't disrupted at all today. They move backwards and forwards, tiny waves splashing down onto the shore, with an almost leisurely pace. I'd be happy to sit here all day, just watching the waves lap up and down against our beaches.
Which is what I would be doing at this rate, seeing how late Finnick was.
I flop onto the sand, so I'm just lying on my back and looking up at the sky. It's a particularly sunny day today here in District 4, so I squint my eyes against the sun.
I let out a huff of irritation, and sit up again, grabbing one of the pebbles from around me and chucking it into the ocean.
'You'll kill the fish if you do that, you know,' I hear a voice from behind me.
'Where the hell have you been?' I say, rubbing the pebble which I hold in my left hand with my fingers, feeling it's comfortable smoothness. I slip it into my pocket, wanting to keep it. It also calms me a little, I suppose.
'Someplace else.'
'Obviously. I did realise you weren't here.' I say with attitude.
'Dee, I'm here now, okay?' says Finnick, settling himself beside me.
'I suppose it's better late than never.' I say in an unconvincing tone. I'm still p-ed off at him.
'You're correct,' he smiles down at me. 'You can never stay mad at anyone, can you?'
I guess he's right, so I don't say anything.
He stands up and begins to walk along the beach. 'Well, we might as well get going.'
'Oh, yes. I'd almost forgotten we were actually meant to be doing something today…'
'I wasn't that long.'
'I think I may have aged a little, actually.'
'Obviously.'
'OK, I'll stop going on.'
'About time.'
We walk towards the pier, where our little dinky boat, which we take out every Saturday and the last Friday of the month, is tied.
We do a bit of fishing, but we spend the majority of our time just lying there, looking at the sky, or talking. We talk about lots of things; how our week's been, all the kind of stuff like that.
Then we sometimes talk about more risky subjects, such as what we'd do if the districts of Panem never existed, or if we all lived in harmony with eachother. We also fantasise about other worlds, worlds with no hunger, pain, oppression. We sometimes even dream up our own ideal world.
But today we stick to the safer subjects. I divert to one which I know Finnick'll like.
'How's Annie?' I say, and grin.
'Annie, my friend, is fine, actually.'
'Your friend?' I say with a raised eyebrow.
'Yes, my friend.' Finnick replies firmly.
'I've seen you around her, Finnick,' he shakes his head. 'I'm not stupid, Finnick Odair.'
'You may not be stupid, but you're delusional, Absidee Odair.'
I frown, annoyed. 'I'm not.'
'Whatever you say.' Finnick says, and leans back, closing his eyes.
I do the same. It's extremely peaceful, the gentle rocking of the boat. I let myself fall into it's rhythm.
So yes. Finnick and I share the same surname. We're cousins. And it's not as if it's not obvious, either. We look extremely similar. With the same sandy coloured hair, and the same golden tan. The similarities stop there, though, I hope. Finnick's known for being a ladies man whenever he's off in the Capitol, which disgusts me. He's honestly interested in them? Them, with their sadistic games? They may not have personally planned them themselves, but they're still the same people who show an avid interest in the games. They tune in every year, awaiting the best show yet. Not caring what happens behind the scenes, not remembering that the tributes – whom they bet on and when they're killed, merely shrug, and scout for the next winner amongst the other tributes – do have lives back at home. Perhaps they support their entire family? Who knows. And from the Capitol's eyes, who cares? Who cares for the family and friends who are left behind? The Capitol certainly don't.
Why would Finnick ever go for one of them? They're physically repulsive, and their morals are more than messed up.
Why?
I hear a snore, and sit up, to see Finnick snoring, one arm above his head. This makes me smile, but this smile disappears quickly.
Maybe he feels he owes it to them? Perhaps.
He was a tribute four years ago himself, but he didn't find himself in such a hard place as the rest of his competitors; the Capitol had loved him. They still do.
They'd showered gift upon gift on him, until he'd recieved the ultimate gift, his trident. The competition was soon over, he'd wiped out his opponents soon enough. I didn't like to think about that much, though. It was hard to imagine the cousin I so dearly loved in front of me, who was currently looking like the dead fish we so often catch in the bottom of our boat, killing multiple kids. I know he didn't have much choice, in fact he didn't have any choice. If he hadn't done it to them, they'd have done it to him.
It seems the most reasonable explanation. He must like Annie, but he feels he owes himself to the people of the Capitol.
Whereas it's quite the opposite, actually.
But I know others who didn't know Finnick in our district, perhaps even from surrounding districts, or the Capitol, would not see any reasons behind Finnick's womanising. They probably think he likes the 'exotic' women. Perhaps they think it is an Odair family trait?
I hope not.
The sun's going down, and I know we should be getting back soon. But I sit and watch as the pinky sky hovers above the see, the sun slowly sinking.
I reach over to Finnick and shake him gently.
'Wakey wakey, Finny.'
He stirs and opens one eye. 'OK, Sid.'
Oh dear lord, not that nickname again.
'Finnick, don't call me Sid, please, otherwise I'll tip you out of this boat, and you can swim back to shore.'
He grins widely. I don't. I hope he realises that was a serious threat.
We both get back to the shore with both of us inside the boat, though (surprisingly), and Finnick's just tying up the boat when I see a figure sat at the beach beside a fire.
I recognise her immediately with her long, dark hair. It's Annie Cresta.
'Finnick, you're going to like who's here.'
'Who is it?' he asks as he quickly finishes his knot with nimble fingers.
Now it's my turn to grin. 'It's Annie.'
'Please don't say anything stupid, Dee.'
'I won't. I'm off now anyway.' I begin to walk off down the pier, but I stop, turning on my heel, to look back at Finnick. 'Have fun. I'll see you tomorrow.'
'Yes, I'll see you tomorrow.'
I shove my hands in my pockets, fumbling with the smooth pebble I got earlier. I walk off home, to our hut. It's next to Finnick's family's home. Of course, Finnick now lives in his house in the Victor's Village.
I shudder. Victor's Village. Are we supposed to be somewhat grateful for the houses the Capitol's built there?
Well, that's what the Capitol thinks.
At least our village is quite full. It's the opposite in District 12. Completely empty, aside from the one victor of 12 who's still alive. Haymitch Abernathy. The drunk who rattles about inside that house. I think he drinks to relieve himself of the pain. To forget the memories he sustained in the arena. I don't blame him.
Finnick says Haymitch is a good person though, and knows what he's talking about, with a clever mind for strategies. When he's not completely intoxicated.
Ever since his victory, which was 18 years ago, during the second Quarter Quell, which was a horrifying event in itself, so I'm told, there's been no victors from 12. They're too malnourished there, from what I see as I watch the Games every year. Haymitch must've tried at first, with his mentoring, but then gave up. Who wants to try and help two kids, then watch them die?
The second Quarter Quell, on the 50th anniversary of the Games, involved twice as many tributes. 48 in total. So Finnick must be right, Haymitch must be clever.
I open the door into my house, see that I'm not alone. Coby, my elder brother and Edrie, my 5 year old sister are sat with my parents around the dinner table.
'You're late, Dee.'
'Sorry. Finnick dosed off.'
'Where's the fish?'
'Finnick has it.'
I dump the shoulder bag I've been carrying with me, empty, onto the floor.
'And where is this troublesome nephew of mine?' my dad asks, but a smile is playing on his lips.
'Down at the beach still, I think.'
'I see. Come and sit down, Dee. Your food should still be hot.'
I take a seat. 'Thanks for dinner, Mum.'
'Don't forget who caught this fish,' Dad says warningly in a jokey tone.
'Of course. Thanks Dad and Uncle Conrad.'
Uncle Conrad is Finnick's dad. Him and my dad still go fishing every weekday, but with the bigger boats, and the whole crew of fisherman, who cater to the entire district, and the Capitol. They're part of one of the ten crews here in 4. But once every week, on the Sunday, they go fishing themselves, my dad and Uncle Conrad do.
Seeing as Finnick's rich now, Uncle Conrad only helps to bring in our weekly share of fish, as Finnick supplies him and the rest of the family with the money they need.
I tuck in, surprisingly hungry. I thought me and Finnick hadn't been out for that long. Obviously not.
'So who's Finnick with?' my brother says. He and Finnick get on well, and he always likes to have a bit of banter going with him everytime he sees him. But nothing like how close me and Finnick are. We're really good friends, which is quite odd for cousins, I suppose.
I remember what Finnick said earlier about not saying anything, and I think he'd probably not appreciate me telling the family. My brother'd tease him more than ever.
'I don't know, Coby.'
'Come on, he can't be down there by himself, Absidee.'
'Finnick does like his peace sometimes,' I say quickly.
There's a knock on the door, and Mum glances out the window.
'Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear,' she says with a small smile.
'I'll get it. He's probably got the fish.'
My parents nod, and I leave the table, and open the door.
'Hello, Dee. I've got the fish.' He holds up a bucket in one hand.
'Good haul?' I ask, not remembering how much we caught earlier.
'Pretty good, yes.'
He hands me the bucket, and I smile appreciatively. 'Are you sure you don't want any?'
'Yes I'm sure.' He replies.
'OK. You'd best go now, Finn, the peacekeepers will be doing their rounds soon.'
'I'll see you then.'
'Yup,' I say and close the door.
I turn and around and grin at my family. 'More fish!'
We eat so much fish. But I'm not about to complain, out in other districts, they are lucky to have any food. Districts such as 12, 11, etcetera.
'Place it down there, Dee. Who knows, perhaps we could sell some to our neighbours.'
'I'll go out and do that tomorrow.'
'Can I come?' squeaks a voice; Edrie.
I groan, but agree. She holds me back, with her smaller legs and silly questions. But she also helps me sell the fish, with her cute smile. The neighbours like that.
After dinner I don't stay up for long, opting to instead head for bed. I lie on my bed, and stare up at the ceiling for a while. But I eventually drift off.
