Hi, guys!

Thanks for being here and checking this story out. I haven't written in several years, but am trying my hand at it again.

Reviews are appreciated.

I own only OC Cordelia and her family.

Thanks!

OM

Cordelia stared out in the crystalline waters of the vast sea, taking in all that surrounded her.

Normally, the view filled her soul with peace and tranquility, but she would find none today.

It was reaping day in District 4 and despite her name only being in the large glass bowl five times, it was still impossible for any child of age for reaping to feel completely at ease on this day.

The year before had been an ugly one as she watched a classmate murdered in cold blood on the very first day of the Hunger Games. She shuddered as she remembered the young boy rushing towards a pack, only to be slaughtered by a career.

Cordelia pushed the feeling down deep and concentrated on her breathing. She knew the odds of being reaped herself were so slim, but so were they for many children in her district. Very few families needed the extra tessera, being they were a wealthier district.

"Hey! Cord, it's time to go home!" she turned to see her brother waving his arms at her from the end of the pier. He was 13 and although slightly annoying, he was good-natured and optimistic.

She silently walked to the end as he brother ran off towards their home.

She walked through town, past the good, hardworking people of her district. Some she recognized waved, but most bustled about, making last-minute purchases or errands before they needed to be at the town square.

She finally made it to her home, about a half-mile from the pier, and was immediately greeted by her mother. "There you are, Cordelia! I thought you'd be at the water when I sent John out to get you. I've set your dress on the bed, freshly washed and ironed. There's a ribbon next to it, blue will look lovely on you, sweetheart." Her mother expressed the sentiment with a loving caress of her cheek, a small smile on her face. "Thank you, mother. Will you braid my hair for me, like when I was little?" She reached up and closed her hand around her mothers.

"Of, course, my dear. Just bring the ribbon. Now hurry! Reaping starts in an hour and you smell like saltwater." Cordelia chuckled as she rushed up the stairs.

In her room, her mother had laid out her blue striped dress, the one she had worn the year before as well. The material was soft, the color lightly faded, but it was beautiful and her mother always told her it brought her eyes out.

She jumped into the bath, remnants of the scorched water still behind as it had now cooled to a warm temperature.

Cordelia doused her hair, scrubbed her nails, and the rest of her body. Quickly out, she dried and dressed. Her methods felt forced, even as she has done them every day for as long as she could remember. Her thoughts felt cold and empty, something about today felt scarier than she remembered.

"Honey! You'll need to eat before you go. Please hurry!" Her mother cried up the stairs.

She grabbed her comb and ribbon and marched down the steps.

"Sorry, mom. Seems I can't stop thinking today," she shook her head and shrugged.

Her mother's brief look of fear didn't escape her. "I get it, baby. It's a scary day, but I'm sure I'll see both you and your brother in time for dinner tonight. Now there's some bread and cheese, eat and I'll fix your hair."

She sat and ate as her mother gently brushed her long, golden hair. She knew she was being quiet and that it was concerning her mother, she just couldn't find the voice to speak up.

The churning feeling from the pier was back again. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, reminding herself of the odds of being chosen and how low they were.

"Hey! Save some for me, you piggy!" her brother cried as he snatched more than half a piece of bread she had taken.

"Well, maybe you should hurry up, slow-poke. Why were you late anyway? You got back 10 minutes before me and from the smell of it, I doubt you bathed," Cordelia teased her brother as he stuck his tongue out at her.

"Whatever, Cord. Shut up."

"That's enough," her mother gently scolded before Cordelia could respond.

"Your hairs ready, you look absolutely gorgeous," she kissed her daughter's cheek and squeezed her shoulders. Cordelia gave her mother a small smile.

"That's what all the guys at school say! It makes me wanna barf. They're always asking if Cord is single and teasing me about it because they know she doesn't date. Who even knows what they see in you anyway, Cord? You look like a regular girl to me," John rolled his eyes dramatically, clearly tired of hearing so much about his sister's good looks.

"She gets in from your Mama, Son." His father explained as he walked through the door, carrying a bottle of wine, a special occasion reserved only for after the reaping.

Cordelia watched as her father kissed her mother, tousled John's hair, and winked at her.

"You look more and more like your mother every day, Cordie." she smiled as he ever so slightly flicked her nose, something her father had done since she was a kid.

Her heart lurched, watching her family interact as they always did. They were a small family, but close as could be.

"We best be off, reaping starts in 20 minutes," she scooted her seat from the table and brought her plate to the sink, depositing it in.

"You go on with your brother, we'll be there soon," she heard her mother say as she walked to the front door and slipped her shoes on. Brown and leather and worn.

"We'll see you after for dinner, ma," she gave one last small smile and left with her brother.

The entire walk to town was silent. Cordelia and her brother were surrounded by families and classmates and some kids whose names they didn't even know.

Her brother's voice was low, "We're gonna be alright, right?" He sounded small and scared.

Cordelia looked over at her brother, who had recently gone through a growth spurt and was almost her height. "Everything's going to be ok, John. I promise."

He reached out and took her hand, something that surprised her, from her 13-year-old boy. She squeezed his hand as they entered the town square and separated, John, going over to the boy's section and Cordelia getting in line with the rest of the girls.

"Please tell me why I freak out about this thing every year," her best friend Madeline whispered from behind her. "Probably because you're a normal person? Does anyone manage to not panic on reaping day?" she whispered back as her best friend nodded, letting out a big breath. "Ok, you're right. Just need to get through this like every year."

They were registered and accounted for as they entered their section, standing with other girls their age. Cordelia recognized most of them, was friends with some of them. Today very few people waved and even more looked straight ahead.

Cordelia heard a tapping on a microphone and looked towards the stage, where two bowls on pedestals sat, creating a looming presence. Between them stood a thin man with purple hair and an outrageous silver suit, Flanagan Vesuvius. He had been the District 4 escort for the last 7 years and it seemed every year he looked more ridiculous.

"Well hello to all of you here today! Isn't this just the most exciting day? I hope you are all as excited as I am ready to get the ball rolling, as they say. A little birdy told me that this year is the largest count of brand new 12-year-olds District 4 has had in 20 years! How wonderful!

Well, let's get started with the reaping, shall we? Best luck to each and every one of you. Ladies first, as always."

He walked to the bowl on the left, and with each footstep, Cordelia felt her heart pound harder and harder. He was reaching in now, swirling the papers inside around, the fate of some young woman at his fingertips. He drew a name, slowly retrieved it, and opened it before a beaming smile spread across his face.

"Cordelia Boatwright!"

The world stopped. Her ears immediately rang and her vision was blurred. Surely not. Surely not her. Classmates turned to look at her, her best friend gripped her hand hard, nails biting her flesh.

"Come now, Cordelia, where are you? Come on out, dear girl."

Slowly, like every nerve on her body was fried, the girls around her parted like she had the plague-like she was already a dead-girl walking. She faced the stage, stone-faced, and slowly walked forward.

"Oh my, and here she comes! What a lucky girl you are. Right up this way." She trudged up the stairs and turned to face the crowd. She scanned for her brother, who was already sobbing, her parents. Her mother, being held up only by her father, whose eyes were shut so tight, like if he opened them maybe it wouldn't be true.

Reality sunk in and then she was there, panic and dread consuming her on the inside, as she stayed as unchanging on the outside as she was able.

She had never felt fire on her skin, but Cordelia imagined this is what it felt like. Totally consumed, with death at the end.

Flanagan had called a name, but she hasn't heard it. She looked over as a scared-looking boy around her age stepped up to the stage. She recognized him as a boy a grade above her, one with asthma problems who was always wheezing in school.

He would die, she thought. How could he not? She would too, she realized. There was literally no chance.

"Well, there you have it, folks! Give it up for Cordelia and Garrett and they enter the Hunger Games as the tributes from District 4!"

The crowd was quiet, it always was. No one cheered or clapped. It was somber as she and Garrett were led away by peacekeepers to doors she had never entered inside Town Hall.

Cordelia entered a private room furnished and smelling like old wood and tobacco.

She felt numb when the doors burst open to reveal her red-faced mother, who enveloped her in a crushing embrace. "Baby, oh my baby, no no no." She clutched onto her mother as she felt another presence, her father wrapping around the two of them and kissing her forehead.

The tears fell, and hard. She was going to die and break her parent's hearts. Even they knew it.

Her father pulled back and grabbed her face in his hands,

"Listen to me, Cordie, you do everything they say. You listen, you're so smart. Observe the others and learn from their mistakes. You can do this. Never have I met someone so smart and determined. You win, Cordelia. You win and come back to us. No one else matters here. You're athletic and strong and smart. You can do this."

She listened to her father's speech, feeling no more encouraged or strong. She felt weak like she would die.

"Cord," called her brother.

"You're the fastest girl at school and you have the best marks. You're a badass at swimming and Old Seager tells me you're his best fishing apprentice. Told me you had a job as soon as you graduate. Use those things, whatever tools you can, and please come back."

He grabbed her in a hard hug, "come back, Cord. I can't be an only child." Cordelia hugged back fiercely, smelling the sweat and saltwater in is hair. Her little brother, whom she would never see past 13. It seemed so unfair and bleak.

She released him and looked to her mother, who was still crying but had a strange glint in her eye.

"You'll be the most beautiful one there," she opened her mouth to argue. "No, you will be. I know. Use that, do whatever you have to. There are no morals here, there are no feelings and there are no options. There are 23 dead kids and only one survivor. You have as good a chance as anyone there. You got that?"

She nodded, incapable of speaking. "We love you to the bottom of the ocean, my girl. To the expanse of the sea," her mother whispered as she embraced her.

"To the expanse of the sea," her father murmured as he nodded, making eye contact

"To the expanse of the sea," John told her, following his mother and giving one last hug.

Peacekeepers opened the door to lead her family out, her mother's tears flowing more now,

"To the expanse of the sea," she whispered as they ushered her family out.

She was only alone for a moment as several close friends made their way in to say goodbyes. They were teary and not as uplifting as her family's goodbye had been.

And then she was alone with her thoughts. Cordelia thought back on all her parents has said, what her brother said. Was there really even a small chance she would get out of this? Did she dare hope for victory?

Her thoughts were interrupted by more peacekeepers, leading her to the train.

It was large and foreign and smelled like the cleanest place she had ever been.

There were stacks of cakes, and desserts, and foods on a large table against one of the walls. The tables were decorated with blues and golds and expensive-looking plates.

A large cart of decanters filled with brown liquor sat on the opposite end of the train car.

Cordelia folded her arms around her, feeling cold and awkward in the middle of the room.

Immediately, a door opened and Flanagan walked in with Garrett.

"There you are, dear girl! My, look at you! I caught a mere glimpse, but you are a vision. Absolutely stunning, isn't she Garrett?" Cordelia blushed as Garrett looked her way, stammering out an affirmation.

"Well, the stylists will be absolutely thrilled this year! Let's get Finnick and Mags and you can formally meet them! Help yourself to any of the treats you see around you."

As he exited Garrett made eye contact with Cordelia, a hard look on his face. He didn't say a word and neither did she, but the room filled with tension. She immediately got the feeling Garrett had some issue with her, odd considering she had never spoken to him a day in her life.

She breathed out a deep breath and went over to the food table, nowhere near hungry, but at least looking at the food meant she could avoid Garrett's harsh gaze.

Now, more than ever, as the train started to move, she felt truly alone. No one she loved was here and in a few weeks either she or Garrett would be dead, but probably both of them. The negative thoughts sank deep in her gut, twisting like a knife.

A door opened and three people entered, Flanagan, Finnick, and Mags.

"Lookie, lookie cookie at this one," Finnick murmured as he circled around Cordelia, appraising her, making her feel like a big catch.

"I told you she was perfect!" Cried, Flanagan.

Cordelia blushed deeply. She was unused to these comments. Even if people said them, they were rarely to her face.

Mags came to her with a sweet smile on her face and patted her on the arm, a reassuring gesture.

"Sure you mentioned it, but you never know with the tributes. We might have something to work with here. I've decided- I'll take this one to train and Mags, you take the boy."

"I have a name you know, it's Garrett." Everyone turned to look at him, "Yeah, forgot about me, huh? I might not be much to look at, but I'm still here." His disdain for Cordelia was evident as he looked at her again, his eyes glowering.

"Ooook, kid. We didn't forget about you. I already assigned Mags to you before you said anything, or do your ears not work? We'll do some training together, answer some questions if you have any, but we will work to train mostly separately. It makes it easier, you know, in the games. Which will leave us plenty of alone time," He looked at Cordelia and winked when he said this. "Ow!" He winced, overdramatically as Mags smacked his arm, "It was a joke! She's 16!"

Flanagan rolled his eyes as he lead Garrett and Cordelia to their rooms.

Cordelia shut the door, let out a big breath, and lay on the bed in the center of the room. Already so much had happened. Two hours ago her mother was braiding her hair in their dining room and now she was on her way to the Hunger Games. Tears welled up in her eyes as a feeling of hopelessness came upon her.

A soft knock came from behind the door, she stood and slid it open. Finnick was on the other side.

"Hey, pet. Realized I never actually introduced myself, not that I really need to. We both know who I am here," he grinned devilishly at her, "but I am dying to know all about you. Meet me in the dining car in an hour, we'll go over a few things. No more crying once you leave this room in an hour, yeah?"

She nodded, "Yeah. And, thanks." For letting me sit in here and cry and be emotional, she didn't say the last part, but she didn't need to. That's why he was giving her an hour.

"See ya then, sugar pie," he winked at her as he left.

She slid the door shut again, sat back on her bed, and cried. She cried long and hard. For her family, for her life, that she might die. She cried for who she might become, for the things she would have to do. But mostly, she cried because she didn't want to die.

She craved the sea at this moment, the crashing waves, and the warm sand. The smell of the fishing boat she apprenticed on every day for the last two years. She cried remembering the pier and running to the end, diving into the water as far as she could. Swimming for hours on end. She was strong, she knew that. She was even faster. Working hard labor every day after school for two years did that. She was tall and had good endurance from swimming. She might look like a skinny little thing, but she knew she was strong and could work hard.

She wiped her eyes, thinking not so negatively for the first time. Maybe she could do this.

Maybe, by some miracle, she could pull this off.

But she couldn't do it alone. She stood, righted her dress, and took one look in the mirror. She saw a younger version of her mother, undeniable beautiful, she knew. Her looks had never mattered to her, they had never seemed to help her do the things she truly enjoyed, she just was how she was. Could her looks aid her in the games? It was a fact most people favored beautiful tributes, but she had always paid them little mind.

She would need to consult an expert, and she knew just where to go.

Xoxo,

Olivia