Chapter 1: 65th Reaping
The salty sea air blows in my face as I walk along the beach. The gulls caw overhead. District 4 is not such a bad place to grow up. In fact, I would say it is the best place to be raised in all of Panem! Not many people may know that. Too many Capitolites come through here who fear the sea, but for most of us District 4 folk, it inspires awe. It's a creature all it's own. It moves, it curves with the land of the shore - even forms that land.
And, oh! The harbors and ports! Such bustling activity. It's probably some of the busiest and most critical of Panem's economy. Fishing is very important to us, even more so to the other districts who depend on it for sustenance.
And singing is also very important to us. For just now, as I stroll about the docks with my red hair in the wind, I can see a fishing vessel coming in with a load of fish. It's still a little far off, and the sun is still climbing in the sky; these fishermen must be back from a night catch. As they swab the deck and haul at the ropes, I hear them singing, sure and strong:
"I'll tell you a tale of the bottomless blue, and it's hey, to the starboard, heave ho! Look out, lad, a mermaid be waiting for you, in mysterious fathoms below!"
And then, I see a figure bound up onto the deck that makes my heart go a-flutter. It's him! Finnick Odair. He's an orphan, but one of the youngest fishing boat captains ever. Where Finnick goes, a load of fish can be expected. Whatever skipper he commands, you can expect a good haul. Cause he's so gifted with the tridents and spears most fisherman use. He's been on boats since before he could toddle.
And he's so handsome...
I can hear his loud voice engaging his men even from this distance. Charismatic to the end: "Isn't this great? The ocean air, the wind blowing in your face?"
From behind him, a woman - Mags, our very first Victor of the Hunger Games and the closest thing Finnick has to a mother - raises herself up from over the side, looking green. "Oh, how I worry for you, though, Finnick. None of this can be good for your health. You're a handsome lad, with responsibilities. The boys look up to you! They can't be seeing just a common sailor!"
"Mags, these men are anything but common. Aren't ya, boys?" Finnick says to his men. They cheer their approval. "These men are free, Mags, truly free! They don't have to answer to anyone but the Sea. I'd rather be a sailor than the Prince you'd want me to be any day!"
I am stirred by his words. Moved as he must be by the waves and the flotsam, I begin to sing myself. "Ahhhhhh, ah, ahhhhhh..."
Only I never expect Finnick to hear my voice. He spins about, thinking it's coming from the ocean.
"Follow that voice!"
"But Finnick! We must return this batch to shore!" Mags protests.
"Not while I'm Captain! Follow that voice - to the ends of the earth if we have to!"
"Ay, ay, sir!" Then the fishing vessel turns around, carrying away the sailors' singing on the wind: "There's mermaids out there in the bottomless blue, an' it's hey, to the starboard, heave ho! Watch out for 'em, or you'll go to your ruin. Mysterious fathoms below!"
I sigh deeply, watching his bronze hair, his perfect white complexion, alighted by the sun. Oh, Finnick...
I whirl around at the sight of a giggle, to see that it's my older sister, Emily.
"If you could just get a look at yourself!" she laughs. "Talk to him!"
"Right - a sexy fishing boat captain and a plain girl like me? I have got nothing to offer!" I dismiss her. But inside, I wish I could pluck up the courage and talk to the man of my dreams.
Emily and I are dressed in our finest attire when we get home. For today is the Reaping for the 65th Annual Hunger Games.
I make to stand with the 13-year-old girls. Emily is with the 16-year-olds. In the 14-year-old boys' pen, I can see Finnick, dragged back in from his careless mission, looking smug and smirking.
Then, the Peacekeepers arrive up the center aisle. It's like a escort, an honorary guard (which by the way, those two are very different things) and a security measure all at once, as they carry District 4's pervious Victors to the podium. In 65 years, we have had three. So on average, one every 22 years or so. Mags Flanagan-Cohen, Victor of the 11th Hunger Games. Muscida Selkirk, Victor of the 23rd Hunger Games, is not far behind her in age. And Librae Olgivy, Victor of the 38th Hunger Games.
Three Victors. All of them women. No man from District 4 has won the Games before. But I hope someone does soon...
As the Victors pass us, we break out into a traditional song, and this is how it goes:
"In 1607, we sailed the open sea, for glory, God and gold and the Virginia Company. For the New World is like heaven, and we'll all be rich and free! Or so we have been told by the Virginia Company!... On the beaches of Virginny, there's diamonds like debris! There's silver rivers flow and gold you pick right off a tree. With a nugget for my Winnie, and another one for me! And all the rest will go to the Virginia Company!"
I'm not too sure about the origins of the Company part, but I do know that District 4 once belonged to a state known as Virginia. It's a song about our history, which I can appreciate. I love history, especially about this land. This district. This is home.
After the Mayor reads the Dark Days speech, and reads the three names of our past Victors, our district escort, Triffel Clearscape, takes the stage. "Welcome, welcome! Today, we have the honor of choosing one young man and woman for the honor of representing District 4 in the 65th Annual Hunger Games. As always: ladies first!" She whips a slip of paper from the Girls Reaping bowl, the same way one might pluck out a book from the shelf. "Tassel Bellhorn!"
A girl of 17 takes the stage. Strong, muscular. She could certainly make a go of it. But what of the boy?
"Finnick Odair!"
I nearly scream. Mags briefly looks horrified, but manages to mask it quickly, as her adopted son of 14 takes the stage. He's only 14!
Which means one thing: Finnick is as good as dead, because no one that young has ever won the Games. From any district. Ever.
And that also means I'll never get to talk to the man of my dreams.
That very same night, the District 4 train pulls into the Capitol. I am still standing in the same place I was in for the Reaping, as I see the paparazzi at once enamored with my Finnick. Most talking heads comment how it's such a shame, that a Career so handsome was Reaped so young and will therefore almost certainly die.
But I have never really known how beautiful Finnick truly is. Not until I see him beatified in the chariot ride parade that very same night. Women sob and shriek and call Finnick's name. The tributes are then swept into the Training Center, and coverage ends for the night.
As a general rule, cameras aren't allowed in the Training Center. So there isn't much of anything to watch over almost entirely the next three days. I spend those days cleaning my house with my mother and Emily. The work keeps me from running distracted about Finnick. But I still think about him. A lot.
The third night, the tributes' training scores are broadcast. Finnick pulls a 10 despite his youth, drawing even with other Careers three or four years older than him. I begin to feel hope that maybe he could come home alive!
The fourth and final night is the tribute interviews with Caesar Flickerman, The staple host is as consummate as ever, putting even the shyest tributes at ease.
Not so with my secret love. He strides on confidently, to the shrieking delight of still more women. Even Caesar is impressed.
"My, my, Finnick! Wowwweeeee! Are you sure you're only 14?"
Finnick smiles amidst some fangirl screech. "I'm sure, Caesar."
"A strapping young lad like you must have some special girl waiting at home for him. What's her name?" The audience actually boos at this.
Finnick laughs. "There's nobody, Caesar. But she's out there somewhere. I just... I just haven't found her yet."
"Well, maybe you're just not looking hard enough," Caesar expresses, gesturing to the studio audience and prompting many more cat calls.
"Believe me, Caesar, when I find her, I'll know. It'll just - BAM! - hit me. Like lightning."
Emily scoffs beside me. "I think it already has. He's bedding someone, and no mistake!"
The buzzer ends and people actually wail as Finnick leaves the stage.
That night is frought with nightmares. Will my secret love be Victor? Or will he never see another night? I go to sleep unsure.