Hunger Games do not belong to me. Please enjoy. =)
The next morning I expect bags under my eyes but find none as I stare into the mirror. I know I will have to go to school today and every ounce of my body dreads the very thought.
In District 4, you have the option of missing school for 3 days, in replacement of learning a trade, but on the fourth day you have to attend school by district law. It's an odd tradition, but it follows a fisherman's schedule, keeping all the boys in line with what their fathers' voyages. I know my life will one day be forced to be revolved around the fishing business. I love the water, so there's no problem, but some part of me wants something more, a different life – a better one.
I make my way to our kitchen, where the light is slowly creeping in through the cracks of the wood. My hand groggily grabs the salty greenish bread on the table. My mother's lovingly prepared breakfast for her family. I've heard stories from other families... you know where the mother makes fried fish and quail eggs in the morning, while the dad squeezes out fresh pineapple juice – but that must not be my family.
My mother must have made her way to my father's bed last night, ignoring the argument they had obviously had and the drunken fight he had obviously gotten her into. But the breakfast is better then none. Few families starve in 4, but it's not unheard of. We don't eat too well, but if you're a boy on the ship, you can get away with eating fish. I wonder if this is why I look so much stronger then the boys who don't have fathers in the fishing business; my father took me on my first fishing trip when I was 5, since then I have been eating fish like crazy, like it's mere air to my survival – something not everyone in 4 gets to do. It sounds crazy, not being able to eat our own export, but the Capitol, who watches over all of the districts, makes sure to have more then their fair share so there's never too much of a surplus for us. The Capitol, the word alone makes me want to spit and wash out my mouth.
I had almost forgot that tomorrow was the reaping – almost, I mean it's always something weighing in the back of everyones' minds. That word makes me shiver, reaping, there's something so sinister about it. I know I have nothing to worry about, my name is only in the jar three times. Other boys have worse odds then me. Nonetheless, it manages to eat at my mind for the whole school day.
I go through the motions. Learning about things I know don't pertain to my future of fishing like arithmetic and the history of the Lost Years where the Districts rebelled against the Capitol. My worst subject is English, but luckily I am always on the ship when we have the class so I'm never really subjected to its toils. I roll my eyes at the comments the other boys throw at me.
"Pretty Boy." "Capitol Bait." "Powdered Eel." The insults themselves mean nothing to me, it's the sting that comes from these boys' tongues that set me off. It stings like salt in your eyes, something that you put up with, until it eventually burns too much and you need to come up to wash them out. In art class I am sure I've had enough. I look out the school's windows, just wishing to be by my beach paradise... I ignore the eyes cast upon me, some in scorn, others in a silly school entranced love. It is meaningless to me.
As the school bell rings everyone makes their way out to the courtyard of the village, one of the few areas in 4 not covered in sand or palm trees. It has a small garden to it. The only other places with any greenery are the town square and the Victor's Village. Occupied to large capacity, we seem to do well in the games, not as good as District 2 or 1 sometimes, but we've had our share of wins. The houses in the Victor's Village look so nice. What I would do to live in a house like that – and then I think about that. To live there you have to survive the odds and outlive 23 other children in a battle to the death. I don't think it's worth it at that point. But all that money... I shut the thoughts out, thinking they're ridiculous.
I hadn't even noticed my body making my way to the square. Looking at the fish in the shops, some that I swear were my catches from the day before. I make my way to my favorite shop. Lined with fishing supplies, it has tridents and spears, and, my favorite, the baskets and ropes I had weaved for the lady who runs the small outlet. The old lady shuffles her way out from the back closet to smile at me.
"Finnick my dear! Come, come!" I happily walk in. Grandma C, as I call her, has been the nicest member of my family since I met her. She's not actually my grandmother, she just likes to humor me and give me a place of refugee from my father. People respect him, but everyone knows what he does to my mother. I wonder if they know what he does to me, but I'm sure people don't care.
Grandma C places a piping hot bowl of clam chowder in front of me. I slurp it down grinning happily as she tells me stories of her dead husband. I've never met him, but he sounds like a bunch of fun. Always drunk, always 'swearing like a sailor', covered in tattoos. I laugh as she tells me how he knocked himself out of the boat on Christmas Day... it's a kind of humor only people in 4 can have. We laugh at our tragedies and keep going even though they eat at us till the end.
I begin to talk about school, and how hard it is with the others there. But I try to make it sound like I am not whining, and Grandma C is happy to listen. She strokes my hair as my face flushes with the heat of sadness once more. She hushes me, as if I am a young boy on her lap begging for a free net, telling me to be a warrior and not get upset. She was the first one to teach me about jealousy. How painful and hurtful it is, the viscous circle it causes.
She gives me that hug that old people give young people, the really tight one that wraps you up and almost suffocated you. She smiles and tells me that those people are unaware of the effect their words can have, and that it shouldn't bother me – how greater a human I am then them. She motions to my chowder as if telling me to eat up, and then she disappears into the back of the shop. As I lick the bowl clean of slippery sea soup, she throws me a rope and a trident. My eyes light up with desire.
"Mind bringing me a swordfish?" She winks at me. She always knows what I want - telling me to go out to the sea and enjoy myself. She does what she can to answer my questions and problems, but the ocean is the girl with the real answers, she can listen forever and ever. I throw the trident around my shoulders and drape the rope on it as well. I wave back to Grandma C in the shop as I hop down the steps and practically run to the mountain. Technically we can't fish for sport, or even for food. If the peacekeepers cared they'd get me in trouble, but they don't mind – or to my knowledge even know what I am doing, to them I probably just look like a man going out to sea on a new voyage.
I am surprised to see a familiar face in my mountains, until I remember why she is there. Her nature beckons to me, and I sit down next to her, apparently my coming was unnoticed by her for she keeps quiet. I stare until I understand what she's looking at. The sunset. "The sea is magic isn't it? It can make even the prettiest things prettier." I say to her.
She nods as she acknowledges me. I remember our deal but she doesn't ask me about it we just agree to sit in silence by each other. She just stares in awe as I begin to quickly knot up the rope in my hands into a net of prestige.
I look at her face and smile, "I know, people say it's hard, but knotting the ropes into nets is relaxing to me – so I find it easy." I throw it firmly in my other hand and grasp the trident in the other, then I beg her to come out to the water with me. She shakes her head and blushes.
"I don't know how to swim," she reminds me in a whisper that is a little louder then the one before. I smile as I grab her body and throw it over my shoulder with ease. She screams, panicked at first but it slowly turns into a playful whine as I throw myself into the water. Her body sinks with me as she cups her breath and shuts her eyes tightly, all the while grasping onto me for dear life. I laugh as we come back for air. I try to steady her in the water. Her eyes are swimming with fear.
"I won't let anything happen to you," I reassure her, "I promise."
Her eyes quickly switch to form a look of undeniable trust. I help her move her arms and feet, teaching her how to float. She grasps this idea quickly and her face beams brightly with a smile. I smile at her too with a toothy grin.
I start teaching her my tips... don't waste your energy flailing around if the water overtakes you. Steady yourself to a float, using only short bursts of energy when necessary – this is what I was told to do if I was ever stranded at sea. Then I teach her all the different strokes of swimming that I know. Ones to use when you're close to land, ones that exert lots of energy from your arms, others with your legs. Even I am surprised with her quickness and ease of learning these. She listens to every word I say, letting it process as she does exactly what I say the next second. Soon we are about 2 miles away from shore.
I explain all the details and lore of tridents, the mysteries behind them and their numerous stories that surround the weapon, showing her up close as we float together. Her eyes look it over. I explain its purpose and find my target. The pink creature I spotted earlier is beneath us. I have her hold the trident as I dive deep down into the water. Holding my breath, I slowly and gently cast my net around the creature before if even knows I am there. I take a look around at the ocean floor, I am always sad when my body starts to float its way back to the top. I see the colorful rocks that I wish were my home. I swim back to the top with the swordfish in my net and take the trident and steady the fish as I puncture it fatally watching the blood mix with the water surrounding the once living being in its large sea of water. With my catch in hand we both head back to shore.
"It's not good to be alone in the dark while in water. It can only lead to death," I explain as I clean off the swordfish. She touches its scales.
"So beautiful." She mouths. I feel like I am the only human who can make this out.
"I know. The creatures of the sea are magnificent. So many different types and -"
She stops me, "I meant you. You don't look real. The way you throw the net, the way you puncture with the trident, and your eyes... it's just." She isn't making any sense and I just quiet her as we lie back on the sand our bodies drying themselves. The sky is dark and filled with stars, but the sand is just beginning to cool off, it's still hot from today's sun. I point out what I know about the stars.
"They're a fisherman's best friends. They can show you where you're going and what time it is. They explain it all." I point out the north star and explain the others and their mythical stories. She finds it fascinating and asks where I've learned all these from. But they're all ship stories, every sailor knows them. Then I point out how far one of the stars stretches and how we should head home since its late. She sighs. Even in the darkness though, I can see her smile.
I am expecting just a thank you but am returned with a heavy and long-held hug. "You're my first friend." She squeaks out. That's the loudest I have ever heard her. I pull her closer, knowing that emotions are getting the best of me, you're my first friend too, I want to yell out. But I don't I just let her hold onto me as I put my chin in her damp hair.
At some point we are forced to pull away and we walk together on the beach. She confides in me how the other girls in her grade dislike her. I feel like Grandma C as I tell her to ignore those people. We reach my house and I am forced to depart from my new friend. I think about it, besides a few adults she really is my first 'real' friend. Someone who's not trying to befriend me because of my looks, or because they want to prank me. She's a real person I can trust.
"Until tomorrow then!" I smile. A thought strikes me, "Perhaps I can get another trident and we can fish tomorrow?" I enjoy the thought of being in the company of my new friend.
I can see the corners of her mouth move up but only a disheartened voice comes out of it, "too bad tomorrow is the reaping though. I guess we'll see."
She turns away before I can give her a hug to say goodbye. The reaping. I had actually forgotten about that, usually it eats me up all day! I head into the house, put the trident and dead fish on the table – I'm sure it will please my mother. Of course, I need to remember to return it to Grandma C though.
To my surprise I am actually able to sleep. I think about how ridiculous it would be for my name to be called. I've never been added in extra times – which can happen if times are bad and you need more food, but my family has never needed it to come to that. I think about the girl. How do I not know her name yet? I think she mus be young though. Most likely only twelve... it'll be her first year and I bet her name is only in their once.
I dream, a happy dream. Being out on sea. With a boy that looks like me. Or maybe it is me, I am unsure... but whoever it is, he is happy while being out on sea with his father. I wake up and notice where the sun shines in the sky.