CHAPTER ONE
Stark White
Nothing felt better than the water beneath him. It felt like silk. He closed his eyes and could feel everything - the water that surrounded him like a second layer of skin, the warm breeze that wafted over the surface of his body, and the absolute sense of solitude. His eyes were closed, but he could still see the blinding white of the sun beneath his eyelids. He did not know how long, but he simply stayed there: afloat in the water.
There were often perks of being the victor, and more so the perks of being a victor in District 4. This was one of them.
Finnick Odair had the entire body of water that was encircled by the victor's village, away from the rest of the district with its docks and piers and wharves and quays. It was there a cliff and some rugged sandy shorelines overlooked a bay only he, his family and Mag had access to and it was there that he spent some of his hours doing absolutely nothing. It was there that fishes swarmed in schools and there the clear, beautiful water reflected the cobalt blue skies above it. There, it was peaceful.
And then it was interrupted.
His eyes snapped open and he ducked his head down immediately the moment he heard the guttering roar of an engine but just as quick, he swam back up. Slightly breathless, he reminded himself that there was no danger and that there was no need to hide. But even four years, the days he spent caged inside the Games instilled in him reflexes that he could not shake off.
He tried to pinpoint exactly where the noise came from and located a motor boat drifting on the far corner of the bay...in fact, it was going exactly going back to all the fishing boats that he tried to avoid.
Finnick frowned, but thought little of it. He assumed it was some young group of adults that somehow got lost and wandered into the bay. Perhaps he was wrong, perhaps he wasn't so sharp after all and they had slipped through the bluffs that separated the bodies of water silently and he had only noticed them leave.
He wasn't too worried about it. He only had one thing in mind - and that was the Reaping that would take place an hour from then.
…
My father had always told me that oxygen was the bane of him.
Oxygen took away things - it aged things, it destroyed things. He didn't care that he breathed it in every moment of his life. He only noticed that it was oxygen that ruined thousands of items of life before Panem.
For that reason, he loved water. He loved the natural preservation. He loved ice and sand even more - but with the limitations imposed on him, many of the items he had discovered was right here deep in the ocean off District 4. He loved the waters and absolutely everything about it. I still remember when I was younger, sitting on his lap as he explained the way the water glittered like crystals, the way an abundance of colourful fishes would swim right by him, and the excitement he felt every single time he uncovered the roof of a building that was once thought lost for centuries.
I remembered how beautiful I thought it would be.
That was my exact thought as I swam deeper and deeper into the ocean.
There was absolute and utter silence. I could not see much but the light in front of me, even my hands seemed to blur into the blackness. I could hear my breathing and the tick of the oxygen tank behind me that allowed it. He was right in some aspects, I could still see the the fishes - but they were nothing more than passing shadows, a movement in my peripherals.
Still, I felt my legs move as I floated hundreds of meters below the ocean surface. I was in the twilight zone, and I had nothing but what looked like an endless amount of darkness surrounding me. I couldn't see a glint of anything. Not a single remnant of what had once soared and touched the skies.
Beep. Beep. Beeeeeep.
I looked down at my timer and it signalled only several minutes of oxygen left. Granted, I had been drifting for a decent hour, it still irritated me that I did not find anything five days into my deep sea exploration.
I began making my way up to the surface, reaching out and pushing the water behind me, paddling the flippers until I at last broke completely out of the shadows and there was a flash of white before I slowly ascended into the clear, blue waters my father had always described to me. I had no time to appreciate the beauty of it all as I headed directly towards the bottom of the boat.
Beep. Beeeeep.
And then my head broke through the waters and I tore off my mask, gasping for air.
Light flooded around me, and I could not even open my eyes. I kept them squinted as I clutched onto the metal bars of the boats and hauled myself over.
"How'd it go?"
"Nothing," I replied as I fumbled around for sunglasses. I was still breathing heavily by the time I found them. Quickly, I unbuckled everything and set it aside, then wrapped myself in a towel. The man in front of me only looked at me once, nodded, and then turned to the motor.
"You took a lot longer than usual," he said gruffly, without looking at me. I blinked.
"Sorry, I got deeper than I thought I could." I looked down at my suit. Capitol fashioned it exactly for expeditions like this. It allowed me to go deeper into the water without fearing about my body exploding from the pressure. "How long?"
"Twenty minutes longer," he said over the roar of the engine and splash of the water as it splitted against the head of the boat.
"Sorry," I apologized again as I began drying my hair. I cleared my throat. "Sorry."
This time, I said it in a lower pitch.
I could see him nod and I flinch. I knew exactly what he was thinking - that here he was, stuck in the middle of no where from some nosy, rich Capitol girl with a slight adventure lust. And then another thought dawned on me -
"I'm sorry," I say again. I note to flatten my tone. It sounded emotionless in my ears, but just as well I knew that the way I usually spoke sounded overly flamboyant to his. It was strange that way. I still remember the first time I stepped foot in District Four and was surprised at how they felt so...much. Or perhaps it was how genuine they were about their emotions that caught me off guard.
Because, of course, I faked all my emotions. Capitol did. We exaggerate what we didn't have. I felt detached as I asked, "Do you have anyone...there?" At the reaping, I didn't add.
There was a moment before he responded. "My boy," he said lowly. I had to walk closer to him. "Eighteen. His last Reaping."
"May - " I stopped myself immediately. May the odds be in your favour. I had almost spoken the line that was like air to me, but a slap in the face to those in the District. "I'm sure he'll be fine."
…
The heart of District Four seemed was crowded when we arrived. It was completely different to the district I had seen when I first stepped into the town.
I still remember shielding my eyes as I stepped off the silver bullet train. I remember the emptiness. No one came to the station, not unless they were leaving for business. I didn't expect to see anyone there. But immediately I was surrounded with salt in the air and the sounds of waves crashing against a shore. Not too far away was the bustling market but right now, it was completely empty as everyone gathered to where the Reaping was being held.
My guide left me with no more than a nod to circle around with the rest of the parents that had their eyes solely glued on to their child. I looked everywhere. It wasn't everyday I was actually present at the reaping but it was quieter than I was used to. There was no music, no booming voice over. It was anticipation, nerves, and silence.
I stood there, watching the parents watch the children watch the escort watch the annual reminder video they always broadcast. I was so absorbed with simply observing them that when I felt a shove on my back, I nearly fell over.
"Get in line -"
"I'm not a part of this district," I said, surprised. The peacekeeper clad in unmarked white was gruff and he grabbed my arm roughly, jerking me to the section where I saw people who looked my age was standing at. They were all watching me. "Let go of me," I said again, trying to pull my arm back. "I'm from Capitol - my name is Marcella Thorne, I'm on the 18th exhibition -"
"Be quiet!" he demanded. He spoke onto a device and immediately, there was another arm on me. I began to panic.
"If you don't let me go -"
My threat caused attraction. The blue-haired escort still had his back towards me as he watched the video, but the others on the stage spotted my head in the midst of the crowd. I couldn't focus clearly on one of them but I saw movement. The rational side of me knew that there was no point to protest because my name was not a part of the drawings and yet the very idea of me being in the group of tributes brought me a fear that had never been provoked in Capitol.
And before I really started trying to get away, a voice broke through. "What are you doing? She's from the Capitol."
I turned around to my saviour.
Finnick Odair.
And he recognized me. His green eyes glanced at me, and then away as he placed his hand on the shoulder of one of the peacekeeper and pushed him back. "Does she look like one of us?" he continued to ask lowly. We were attracting attention now that the video was over but the cameras were floating over us, only pointing towards the escort who was ignoring the growing disaster. He was carrying on as normal, and Finnick's voice dropped accordingly. "Everyone's watching us."
The peacekeeper's face was behind the mask but I saw him turn to really look at me and Finnick Odair stated the point that should have really been quite obvious. I did not look like I was from District Four.
I may have not been wearing make up, nor extravagant clothing but upon closer observation, it was clear I was not born from the sea as everyone else here. The dark brown of my hair was not kissed blonde by the sun and there were streaks of pale blonde hiding beneath my hair, streaks that could only be dyed in Capitol. My skin was pale, unusual. I was smaller, more breakable. I didn't have an inch of muscle around me the way everyone else did here who worked their whole life. I rightfully looked as if I had grown up around pages of lost novels and it was clear once the suggestion was brought up.
And of course, the very obvious emblem that stated I was a Capitol citizen stitched onto the jacket I wore. I felt the hands drop and they walked away quickly before they began a larger problem. I exhaled deeply, and turned back to Finnick Odair. "Thank you," I said. I watched him carefully. I wondered if he knew who I was, the way I knew who he was.
Mom?
Go back to bed, sweetie. It's all fine here.
But who is he?
His eyes ran down me once, his face void of all emotions. There was no bitterness, no anger, nothing. "I didn't do it for you." He turned and walked away.
So he didn't recognize me after all. Strange, because the image of his sixteen year old self with his famous sea green eyes glued to the ground was scarred into my memories where it had remained for the past two years.
A/N: Took a while to get this out and it is a slow start but I had to figure out where I was going with this story. To address a certain question -
Yes, Annie will be a part of this story. Her role in everything will become obvious later :)
I was amazed at all the feedback/fav/follows the prologue got out so thank you so much! And thanks for checking back and reading this too, of course. And since I probably won't update next week, happy holidays!