District 4 reapings—Drowning in myself

Clyde Morrissey returned home from training to find a common sight—his mother slapping his father with as much force as she could.

"SO YOU TURNED DOWN THE PROMOTION?! WHAT KIND OF IGNORANT, SELFISH, AND DOWNRIGHT IDIOTIC MOVE WAS THAT?!" Ivette Morrissey screamed as she wrapped her hands around Drew, his father's throat. Ivette gave Drew time to speak, clearly having difficulty in restraining herself from strangling her own husband.

"I just…it was not a good time, and If I accepted, we would be taken to another part of the District. It would be easier for Clyde to get to the Academy from there, but…"

"BUT WHAT?!" Ivette screeched. "YOU THOUGHT THAT MAYBE WE DIDN'T NEED THE MONEY?! YOU THOUGHT THAT THIS PLACE WAS TOO NICE TO LEAVE?"

"I thought you'd be mad if I randomly announced to you that we were moving," Drew squeaked.

"WELL, YOU THOUGHT WRONG!" Ivette cried. Finally lowering her voice, she added, "That's what I hate about you, Drew. You don't think clearly. Not like Clyde. He's a smart kid, and he'll make a good Career. Won't you, honey?" Clyde scowled as his mother turned to him.

"Let him go, mom. You're scaring him." Ivette released her grip, and Drew scurried away.

"Why can't dad just be strong?" Clyde wondered aloud. His mother nodded.

"He's just a docile type. But perfect for me because he'd never leave. He gave me what I wanted, and that was you. And now he's outlived his usefulness. Too bad he can't go in the Games."

"Oh, that's right. Reaping day's tomorrow, isn't it?" Clyde noted. "You…wouldn't mind if I volunteered, would you?" Ivette smiled, but her eyes watered.

"Well…I certainly wouldn't want to stop you. You are, after all, a powerful and skilled Career," she said. Clyde winced at her flattery. This sort of thing had gone for almost his entire life, and it had shaped his whole outlook on things. With just a day until freedom—and with her consent, too-why did she have to do this?

"Thanks, but I'm probably not," Clyde replied. "I don't know a lot about surviving, I'm really not good with working with alliances, and an outlying District tribute could kill me if they caught me off guard." Ivette giggled.

"No, they couldn't! But, in case they could…"

Here it comes, Clyde thought with a gulp.

"Then I think you should be aware of all of your little flaws. If you're truly as pathetic as you say you are, then it's best to strive for perfection, not stopping until every insecurity, every worry, and every weakness is covered so that it can't be exploited. Do you understand me? You must be PERFECT, Clyde. Anything less could get you killed in the arena."

"Yeah, I get it," Clyde said, nodding and heading to his sister Reah's room.

His mother usually said things like that, albeit repackaged or rephrased in some way, and as much as it annoyed him, her words stuck. He couldn't see any way not to try and be perfect, to not reach standards that seemed impossible for him.

Why did you point out your flaws? He thought to himself.

Because they're there. I was just being honest.

No, you were showing weakness and imperfect. Outwardly, you are perfect, just as you should be. Your mother is right to be proud of you.

Then why am I arguing with myself?

That is because you are only outwardly perfect. Inwardly, you are flawed. But your mother does not see that. No one does. Hide your inner failure, don't show it. You will get no sympathy.

Clyde tended to have these arguments with himself a lot. It wasn't schizophrenia or anything like that; instead of arguing with a voice in his head he simply argued with his own thoughts. He hated it doing it so often, but every time he did or said something his regrets on his past actions would bother him, and something in him would think that whatever he had done or said was wrong. Maybe this would go away when the Games started; no one would be demanding perfection out of him there. He knocked on the door to Reah's room, and she answered.

"Is mom bothering you? Don't worry about her, she's only trying to tell you what she thinks is best. And personally, I think she's right."

"I was hoping for a second opinion," Clyde replied, disappointed that his sister was no help in solving his troubled mind.

"Well, if you're having some trouble, you can talk to me about it. You know I still love you regardless of how perfect you are—or aren't."

"Thanks, Reah. I can assure you that no matter what I say…I'm as good enough as a Career as I need to be."

And an arrogant liar, at that. Are you sure you're from 4 and not actually a Capitolite?!

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be fine in the Games," Reah said, giving her brother a hug. "But do you have to go? I'd be all alone without you." Clyde knew what she meant. Technically she'd still have their parents, but he doubted that she wanted to put up with seeing her father being abused anymore.

"I wish I could stay, but I can't," Clyde replied. "I have to volunteer eventually, to make them happy. And you can't do it yet because you're not ready. Plus," he added with a whisper, "I want to get out of here."

"It's really not so bad, Clyde. Can't you stay for just one more year?" she pleaded.

"I'm sorry," Clyde said, leaving the room.

"Where are you going?" Reah asked.

"To see Beverly," Clyde replied. Reah nodded in understanding. Beverly was Clyde's girlfriend, and their relationship didn't get much further than them using each other as sexual partners to forget about the stresses of life.

"Oh. Well…see you tomorrow," Reah called out. Clyde usually didn't get home until after midnight when he went to see Beverly.

So off Clyde went, his mother assuming that he just went off to go train some more. Of course, even if she knew she probably wouldn't mind, but Clyde was uncomfortable with her knowing about Beverly. On his way to her house he stopped at the Career Academy one last time to train at the gym just a bit more. It might help to review everything before going, after all.

To his surprise he found only one other person in there, a girl of about 16 with black hair and a typical athletic Career body.

"Hey," she called out in a voice that seemed way too timid to belong to a Career. She had better not have a crush on him, Clyde hoped. But then she went back to jabbing a dummy with her trident, so it seemed like she didn't. Clyde nodded and headed over to the weapons rack to get a cutlass. Hopefully he could master this thing…

"So, are your parents making you volunteer, too?" the girl asked. Clyde rolled his eyes without looking at her. He really didn't want to talk, and he wasn't one for making friends with every person he met. But since this was his last day in 4, he figured he might as well make some small talk.

"No. I'm doing it get out of here," he said honestly.

Why are you telling this stranger your story? She doesn't need to know it.

Because I'm tired of making everyone think I'm perfect.

"Huh. Well, with your skills I bet you'd do fine anyway! Maybe I could, too," the girl said, her voice wavering as if she wasn't sure. Clyde smiled in sympathy. She was like him, in some way; she tried her best to look perfect, but she knew inside of her that she was not. But what was her flaw? He couldn't see anything wrong with her form or attack pattern. She was just an ordinary Career.

Or maybe all District 4 Careers had self-esteem issues. He wouldn't have known; he rarely interacted with them anyway. He thought about that some more as they both worked on their skills in silence, away from each other.

"You don't have to compare yourself to me," Clyde told her when he was done. "But if you did, you'd see that I'm not as great as I seem." He felt comfortable saying that because this girl was a stranger, and chances are he would never see her again. She said she was going to volunteer, but in a Career district like 4, everyone said that. Who was to say that she would chicken out, and it would be someone else?

And with that he went over to see Beverly, hoping to forget things for a while.

. . . . .

Thaleia Starling was a bit like Clyde. But her flaw wasn't embedded in low self-esteem or a constant drive to reach perfection. Her parents weren't meek or cruel like Clyde's father and mother, respectively, and in most senses she could be seen as a normal Career. But she had her own obstacles, one of them being too humiliating to speak about. She couldn't open up about it like Clyde, because instead of being comforted with understanding she'd just get laughed at.

Her fear wasn't rejection, or being alone, or having to meet the Careers from the other Districts and work with them even if they clearly wanted nothing more than to slit her throat.

Thaleia was afraid of the most simple thing in the world, something that no one in 4 could dare admit to being afraid of. But maybe, on her last day in the District, as she had decided today would be, she could overcome it.

After training she walked to the coast, the gray, grimy waters and dirty sand looking like the most ordinary things in the world to her. Just because District 4 was on the sea didn't mean that it was beautiful because of it, although Thaleia would understand if people elsewhere in Panem thought so. Looking out at the shadowy void of waves, Thaleia took a deep breath and jumped in.

The water surrounded her, and she kept her eyes closed, thinking that maybe if she didn't open them she wouldn't have to worry about that day. But keeping them shut, she also knew, left her helpless in the void, unable to tell which way the shore was, although if she could keep her wits about her she could remember.

Thaleia tried to move her limbs to propel herself upward, doing her best not to let panic overtake her as she felt herself sinking.

Just keep moving up, just move your arms and legs in tandem and boost yourself upwards. Go up, go up…

But then the panic set in. After a few strokes, she wasn't at the surface. The water was too deep! She couldn't let herself sink. She had to get out faster, or her lungs would burst.

You're not trapped. You can get out. There is no net. You can get out. Just don't panic.

But it was hopeless for her to lie to herself. Thaleia flailed her limbs in the water, still completely submerged. Why couldn't she surface? There was nothing blocking her! Her lungs needed the air, she had to get out!

But she couldn't. The water was all around her, and she couldn't get out in time. The water was going to kill her, and she was trapped, not by a net or some physical obstacle, but because she was too scared. She was letting the ocean win. She was letting it take her.

No. It already had me once. It can't have me again!

By some miracle, Thaleia's panicked brain remembered that the shore was behind her, and she drifted that way, trying to hold her lungs together and not let them burst. She could hold her breath for only a little longer, all she had to do was let the waves take her back, and work with them to push herself to shore. They wanted her out as much as she did.

Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity, she gasped and crawled on the sand, away from the waves, breathing heavily once it was all over. At least she had swallowed any seawater like before. She was getting better. No one had to come at help her to save her from drowning. She could do it herself.

But she was still terrified of the water. Nothing could change that.

. . . . .

Reaping day arrived, and a man whose skin and clothes were all blue walked up on the stage.

"The male tribute will be…" he began in a hammy voice. But he got no further before Clyde walked up on the stage.

"Clyde Morrissey." The escort seemed a bit flustered by this (he had wanted to make things more dramatic), but he moved on to the girls when he saw that no other boy wished to challenge Clyde.

Before he could even mention the female tribute or touch the reaping ball several girls tried to approach the stage. It became a mad free for all, with most of the less aggressive girls backing away while the defiant ones struggled in vain to climb up to the stage before being pulled back. The escort grinned with glee. This usually only happened in 1 or 2, but 4? Wow!

Clyde looked at the mass of girls with contempt. He knew it wasn't him that made them all want to be volunteers; it was just their desire to be the perfect fighter and win, and their own obnoxious arrogance, that made them act insane at this specific moment. Clyde glared at them. If he were a Capitolite, he probably would be lamenting all the lovely outfits being ruined by this scuffle.

But then Clyde felt someone tap his hand from off of the stage, just to the side. He turned and saw the girl from yesterday at the gym. She was wearing a sky-blue dress and earrings to match. She smiled at him pleadingly, knowing fully well that he was under no obligation to take her to the Games with him. Clyde offered her his hand, not bothering to smile or look up.

She needed to be in the Games with him. Not because he liked her because he knew her, but only because it just seemed so right. Out of all the people here, Clyde found that she was one of the few he could respect, even if only a little bit.

"What's this?" the escort cried in surprise as Clyde helped the girl up.

"My name is Thaleia Starling," the girl told him.

"And I think she'd be the perfect volunteer," Clyde added.

How very fitting. A girl that you opened up to becomes your target in the Games.

What do you mean? She's not a threat. I could beat her if I want to.

That's not how she sees it. She thinks she's stronger than you. And she smiles more. She'll be more popular, and you know it.

You just signed your own death warrant.

What Clyde didn't know was that Thaleia was thinking the same thing.

AN: I decided to a little bit of both POVs in this chapter, since I felt like I could have time to tell about both of these characters just a little bit, whereas the other 2 districts had 1 character with so much personality that I had to get in as much as I could. Again, though, everyone will get a POV.

Thanks to ImmyRose and xxbookwormockingjayxx for Clyde and Thaleia, respectively. For the record, all I did to decide to do District 4 next was just roll some dice. I'll be doing that from now on to decide which District to do next, although I can't do 3, 7, 8, and 9 yet since I don't have a boy for any of those Districts.

Those are the only spots left (yes, the girl from 12 is taken), so I really need these last 4 tributes!

Trivia question: Which of these characters has gills?

Hella Jeff

Octus

Bender

Cronus