It was the sand, the waves, the sound of water slapping against the hollow wood, the sea shells that I used to string into bracelets and crowns. It was the sun that gave me freckles and turned my hair strawberry blonde, the wind that knotted my hair, the puddles in the rain that reflected my kelp green eyes.
It was me, all of it. I owned it, as did everyone else in District 4. We didn't control it, we didn't have a say, we didn't get to help, we just got to be. To enjoy. To live it. We got to dip our feet in the ocean on a hot day, we got to run on the beach, the sand flying out underneath our feet.
Life seemed brilliant when I was little, everything was so vibrant the colorful houses, the bright blue ocean, the fish and the coral. The flowers in the meadows on the outskirts of town, the other villages, with their different people. People, as a child I loved people, the noise, the liveliness, even the chaos just seemed to bring me in. I would embrace it, my small body and feet running up to different people. I would ask them questions, they were silly, "What's your favorite color?" or "Do you like the blue roll wrap? I think it tastes like toothpaste, but mommy said it's good for me!", almost everyone knew me, for my loud voice, happiness and oddness.
I spent a lot of time, but never alone. I may have had no one to talk to, or to dance with, but I often visited parties, or would sit in town square, criss-cross applesauce breathing it all in. Almost like I was just bottling it all up, keeping it for myself. Like a present, one that only you understand, like a particular piece of sea glass, or a rock.
Not a pretty one, but one, if you look close enough, you can see why I keep it. I keep it for the people who don't have rocks to find on beaches, the ones who have no sun in the sky. The ones who maybe did once. But not now. Not anymore. I did it for them, the kids who got carted off to the games, the people who died prematurely from the same diseases that could be cured with a pill in the capitol. I hold it in for the people in other districts, the ones who will never see the sea, the life, the madness that I do.
Sometimes I like to hope that there's someone like me, doing the same, taking it all in, bottling it up, for people like me. People who haven't seen the dense woods or the expansive fields of wheat, the urban meadows, or the luxuries. I like to think that maybe someone understands me, someone who wants the same things, someone who dreams the same dreams and who maybes hopes for the same things.
My Grandmother never got to see the other Districts. She said she still remembered when the Districts rebelled, she was only 7 years old. Her parents sat by and did nothing, they lived their lives, they continued fishing, and living their lives as if Districts weren't getting bombed, people weren't getting massacred. She used to tell me that if you believed in something, you needed to stand up for it, that if you saw something wrong, it was your job to fix it, because even if you weren't the person to do it, at least you tried. She worked at the treasury in the justice building. There she watched after all of the illegal books that the capitol hid in all of the Districts, the least likely place to find them. She used to give them to me.
She died, two years ago. It was really no surprise, she was growing old, and weak. She used to tell me that the Capitol only let her live as a joke, knowing that nothing would make her more upset, then watching her own son die. She told me one afternoon to never give up, never to let the capitol manipulate me, and that she loved me more then anything else in the world.
I never saw her again, her house caught on fire, and she died in the flames. Everyone says it was an accident. I think it was one last act of defiance. The Capitol couldn't even decide when she could die.
Sometimes I think that I should just lock my door, and read. In my grandmothers name I should make more hovercraft designs and plot revenge against the capitol.
But then, I feel foolish. I'll look at the other people my age, the ones who have already left school, the ones who work full time at their parents businesses. The ones who don't skimp out on work, lying about things to do, because the consequences will be worse than a scolding look, or no books for a week.
And then I'll walk home, to our modest house near the harbor. It's a small house, made with plaster and painted a light sea green, with aqua shutters. It doesn't have glass windows, but it has a wood floor. It doesn't have a guest bedroom, but it has a fridge.
But it was always filled with the warm scent of wood and the comforting smell of the ocean. It always had the warmth of family and comfort. The couch was worn, beaten up, but soft. Like the years of use had softened the stiff couch. Our table was worn, chipped and scratched from children and meals. Our counters were always clean, yet the held the appearance of dirty counters, our tiled floor in the kitchen was much the same.
My room was the smallest, even though my older brother had long since left, after getting a job as a fisherman and marrying. It faced the ocean though, and I don't think I've ever closed the shutters. My bed, filled with reed and straw sits under the first window facing the ocean. I can almost touch all walls at the same time. The room is only about a foot or two longer than myself when I lay down. Which gives it enough room to place a small desk at the foot of my bed, and my dresser on the same wall as my bed.
My room is adorned with paintings, not magnificent ones, not ones on canvas, not ones with store bough acrylics. One's my friend, Naunet, painted.
Naunet is exotic in our district of tanned people and freckled people with blonde or brown hair bleached from the sea and the sun, blue eyes.
Naunet is dark, not as dark as night, but not as light as our tan. Her long glossy black hair is pin straight and reaches her back, it doesn't change color after hours in the sun. The salt water doesn't seem to effect it, and Naunet only spends ten minutes brushing her hair. Naunet has the darkest brown eyes that I have ever seen. They make her look mysterious and powerful.
All of the paintings were from Naunet. We were complete opposites, I was smart and tried hard in school, I was strong and did well in the shop, and helping my brother at sea. Naunet was delicate, she did not try at school, never enough to stand out, just enough to stay in. She didn't want to be roped into her families job. They like the majority of our population were fisherman. They stayed mainly on shore, collecting the oysters and then cleaning and gutting them. Naunet with her delicate frame would probably be forced to clean and gut them.
I, was keen on selling my fathers business and doing something with the money, inventing things. What? I had not idea yet, I was thinking hovercrafts strong enough to overthrow the Capitol, but despite the money I would get, we just didn't have the resources to build hovercrafts and I didn't have the money to keep me fed and housed for long enough for me to collect all of the resources.
Sometimes, when my father and I had good days at the shop. When I make a boat for a family, and they come smiling as they pick it up. Or when we were hired to make a boat for a victor and they wanted fish, like the ones on their opening ceremony suit carefully painted on the whole boat. Naunet and I spent hours after school for 3 weeks straight painting the fish. Then I would think about maybe keeping the shop. Hiring Naunet to paint and varnish the wood while I nailed it all together, or shaped the wood.
My mother said, it's moments like those that I should be bottling. The ones that are truly great, not the chaos, not the colors, but the feeling of doing something nice for others. And I do bottle those in, they're just a easier to capture, I don't need to spend half the time capturing them, they're simple, quick, and the feeling is nice.
Today was the first day of summer, and the harbor was bustling with people, mostly younger people, people my age who were planning on setting sail with their parents, siblings or friends. For month long trips, returning just in time for the hunger games. The day trip people were cleaning their boats, readying for tomorrow after the long trips left.
I was roped into a shorter trip with my brother, just two weeks. Then I would return to help my father, Naunet was grumpily walking with me. I had a worn backpack full of my clothes and my sleeping pad.
"I just don't see why you can't tell him no. Right now, I'm sure they have enough fisherman! I mean do they really need ten of you? Won't nine suffice?" She pleaded. It was useless.
"I made a promise, I signed up. I'm going." I told her lightly.
"Why didn't I register as a cleaning lady?" She sighed frustratedly.
"Because your mother didn't let you. She said you wouldn't make enough money and that you'd fall in love with some scraggly sailor and shame your family" I told her grinning.
"Oh just shut up." She huffed, kicking the sand at her feet. I stopped for a moment and watched as the sun rose. With the subtle sun and the bustling people I felt the need to capture the moment. I breathing in deeply focusing on all of the noise. The laughter, the goodbye's, the fights over silly things like top bunks. It was intoxicating.
"CHARLIE!" My brother yelled, startling me. I straightened my posture.
"You're going to be late!" He yelled at me, a disapproving look evident on his face.
"I'M ALL READY! GIMME A SECOND TO SAY GOODBYE!" I screamed back at him.
"See you soon Naunet. Promise me not to get in such a big argument with your parents! My parents love you right now, but I'm not sure how a week at my house might end." I said cheekily.
"Why do you always assume that I'm gonna fight with my parents?" She huffed. And I laughed at the stupid question. I hugged Naunet tightly.
"Bye. Have fun." She told me smiling.
"I will you! I'm gonna miss you!" I called as I ran down the beach, I hopped up on the dock, not wasting time using the ramp, and undid the last rope, holding the boat here. I gave the boat a mighty push as I leaped on.
The boat was small, maybe 30 feet long. All it had downstairs was a makeshift kitchen, a dining table and bunks surrounding the dining table. No one slept down below, as it was recipe for sickness, we only ever even seemed to step foot in there when it was kitchen duty, or it was raining. We used barrels of salted bread and vegetables as seats and sometimes as dividers for the bathroom area.
I spent all of my time above deck, knotting and fixing nets, spearing fish, and bringing the nets in. It had been established, thankfully, that I was a lot better than most of the men with accuracy, and surprisingly, stronger, I never had to gut or salt the fish. I perched myself at the front of the ship, my feet dangling above the water. I watched as fish became more and more common, sometimes I would manage to stab a few. I took a salt water bucket and put the fish in, keeping them fresh until I had enough to bring them down below deck.
My hair was in a ponytail braid of some sort, keeping my hair out of my face, off my back, and not in dread locks. I worked mostly in solitude, whereas most of the boys would sit at the back of the ship and talked while they worked, I sat towards the front and fished alone.
I wasn't normally a loner, as I spent pretty much all of my time with Naunet, or with Marlin, the boy who helps my father at the shop. I like Marlin, he's a pretty funny guy, but he works full time and despite his happy go luck attitude, I can't help but see the scars on his body, and the bruises he sometimes comes into the shop with.
I felt bad for Marlin, while I was out here, enjoying the sun, the ocean, and the fish, he was stuck inside with double the work. It stunk to be in there.
"Charlie?" My brother asked as he approached me.
"Yeah Trent?" I asked tapping my fingers on the boat. He sat next to me and watched the waves.
"We don't talk much anymore." He stated.
"Yeah." I agreed, stabbing a fish with perfect precision. I took it off the spear and put it in the bucket.
"I guess life just got in the way." He mused.
"Life is the road, not the obstacle." I murmured spearing another fish. It was a clean pull off the spear. I went back to my stance, as if prepared to pounce.
"Humph. I meant that Nadia, and the baby... I just don't know, I guess I didn't even realize we were drifting apart. Well not until, all the boys were joking about you and Naunet and how you guys just wondered around town aimlessly sometimes. And they asked me why you guys did that, and if you had more important things to do, and I didn't know." He huffed annoyed.
"It's not your fault. I never took the ten minute walk to your house." I told him honestly stabbing a fish, I brought it up and smiled. It was a rare fish, this fish alone would probably pay for half of our trip.
"Look what I found." I grinned showing him the perfectly executed fish, the puncture hole so small that you could barely detect it.
"Here, let' go bring it downstairs." He grinned. He got up, and offered me a hand. I took it.
I realized as I walked down to where most of the girls were stationed in the kitchen, that Trent was actually attractive. He had the whole I'm a tan, blue eyed, blonde haired Poseidon. His whole stance and walk screamed power and strength, he looked like my father.
My mother was small, her brown hair and pale complexion something you can only get in District 4 when you spend all of your time in doors. My mother did, she wove shell necklaces and sewed dresses that they sold in the square. Sometimes she'll send a dress to the capitol.
I knew that I looked nothing like her, people told me how I looked just like my brother, or my father. Did that mean I looked like a man?
The girls swooned as they saw him, eating up his every inch of exposed skin despite the fact that he had a wife. A baby on the way.
"Look what I caught!" I said walking up to the corner of the kitchen where Wade and Triton stood gutting fish. Triton's eyes bulged.
"You're kidding! That's great!" He sang, his eyes bright.
"I know." I grinned fist pumping him.
"But hey, all of that time spent sitting up front without all of you idiots disturbing the fish paid off!" I said. I turned to the youngest girl who was sitting in the corner, none of the other girls daring to give her a fish, in fear that she'd ruin it.
"Here you go." I told the little girl. I handed the bucket full of fish, she smiled at me, and I winked.
"How's Pelagius?" It was well known that Wade was usually a person who sailed near the shore in his vibrant red boat with his best friend Pelagius. But Pelagius had gotten really sick, and hadn't been able to come this season, so last minute Wade signed up on this boat.
"Getting better, he was up and walking right before I left. He might actually get in some fishing at the end of the season." Wade said, gutting the prized fish.
"Nice aim." Triton said, as they got a nice look at the inside of the red and yellow fish. It was a capitol delicacy, called the south Black Bream. They used to be this greyish color, but after the capitol dumped something in the water, almost all of them died out, and those that didn't changed to be bright colors, the colors of the capitol.
It was like the capitol couldn't leave a thing to be natural, anything that was pure, and healthy they had to stomp all over it, and ruin it. I felt a bitter terrible feeling rise up in my chest. I had to take a deep breath to drown it, before it came waging up and out of my my mouth.
"Thanks. But I've got to get back to work." I grinned, turning out of the makeshift kitchen and climbing nimble up the ladder until the sun was once again beating on my shoulders and my cheeks. I walked with ease despite the rocking boat, I maneuvered the ropes and kleats that often threaten to trip people on their first time.
I don't remember my first time on a boat, I was a baby, and I doubt that I could speak. I watched as the jib stayed perfectly still, cupped, catching the wind and propelling us forward, the front of the boat diving and skipping as the wind and weather picked up. There weren't going to be anymore fish today. I continued to sit at the front of the boat, my knuckles turning white from clenching the rail. I grinded my teeth together, enjoying the feeling of the boat dropping.
The omniscient clouds lulled a trance over the boat, people scurried around checking kleats, holds and safeties. They secured everything down below, and most of them secured their seats in the cockpit. I took a deep breath, it was never calm before a storm. At least not here, here we got a warning before being plunged into utter chaos. The mayhem I breathed and lived on.
When the storm finally came I could feel the energy rush into me, the adrenaline pumping fast through my body. My brother angrily stomped up to me, gripping onto anything to keep him secured, and safe from the dips and dives of the boat.
"C'mon let's get into the cockpit." He told me, giving me the dangerous commanding voice he used so well.
"HELP! SHE FELL!" I could see the small head bobbing in the water, struggling to stay afloat. Someone had fallen overboard.
It was like I had done it all my life, it felt like I had preformed it before, my body following a path. I slid past my brother, I grabbed the harpoon gun and stuffed a net into the gun. I sprinted, the boat flying from underneath my feet, the wood was slippery when wet, and I slid to the end of the boat when I grabbed the railing, launched the net, behind the girl. She fell into the net, and I scrambled to get a hold before I too, was pulled into the ocean. I braced my legs against the rail, keeping her in place.
"BRING THE SAIL DOWN YOU IDIOTS!" I cried. Someone came behind me, and helped me pull her in, while the crew broke into action, taking the sail down, the boat slowed down and the person I recognized to be Irving, helped me pull the harpoon net thing in. When I got close enough to see the girl, I stared in surprise to see the girl I had given the fish too. I lifter her cold lifeless body up. I brought her too a smooth surface. I pumped her chest, and then breathed into her mouth. I repeated the pattern, until she spewed water out, most of it landing in my face. Her unsteady and uneven breathing shook her whole body as she got a handle on her sporadic coughing.
It took over an hour for her to finally be able to think, breath, and act normally. She was laying on a cot below, and the sun was setting. The storm still wracked the boat, and the waves slapped against the hull, echoing around the room.
"Thank you." She rasped at me, and I literally sang for joy.
"Your welcome." I sighed, smiling in relief that she was alright. I got up.
"Get some rest, you'll have to return to your job in two days, make sure to drink some water." I told her, smiling. I climbed out of the hull and into the cockpit where the majority of the crew was wedged together, as we waited out the storm. I plopped in between Triton and my brother. I rested my head on my brothers shoulder, and closed my eyes.
"I can't believe I just did that." I mumbled before falling asleep, the storm's energy and my adrenaline leaving my system and rendering me weak and exhausted