Maritime Meridian, District 4 Female- Lady Lysa Arryn
The combination of squawking seagulls and the noise of the waves wakes me up. I am not as privileged as many in Four, but I do have an eye for gold and silver. I begrudgingly detach myself from my bed and make my way down the stairs. It's the morning of the reaping and I traditionally cook the breakfast for the boys.
This morning is a little different, however, because I'm actually contemplating volunteering this year and I hate myself for it. I'm just want money and since my friends are essentially rich, I just want to be like them. The quickest way to that is to volunteer.
I reach the kitchen to find nobody is waiting for me.
"Oh well, better start cooking the last of the porridge".
I put the slightly gone off porridge into a pot and heat it up, adding the water. The steam rising from the pot upsets my make-up which I did last night. Oh great, now I have redo it. My year's make-up supply has almost run out, so I hope I have enough to fix up the horror that is my face. All the girls are going natural, they say, as it apparently the latest trend in the Capitol, but I find that hard to believe. Anyway, my natural face doesn't look as good as everyone else's.
"Morning my little Mari," Granddad says as he enters the room.
He only calls me Mari because I apparently remind him of my Nana Tori, whose full name was Torrent.
"Morning Granddad, did you sleep okay?" I chirped from the stove.
Granddad hasn't had a good night's sleep since Nana died, so he has to take sleeping tablets, but even then they don't work very well.
"I slept alright, I suppose. Don't worry about me, this is your last year." He says smiling.
I sigh with relief at that last part so if I don't volunteer or get reaped, I'll be fine.
The porridge has finally finished cooking and I hand Granddad a bowl. He accepts it and nods at me. I nod back.
"Are you going to volunteer this year?" He asks while shovelling porridge into his mouth.
"I would like the money Granddad, but I'm not as skilled as the others," I whisper to him.
I feel sort of bad as Granddad paid for my training and I came bottom in all my classes apart from First Aid and Axe Throwing.
"Maritime, you're as strong as, maybe even stronger than them and you are the most beautiful person I know. If anyone can win those games, you can."
That was one hell of a motivational speech as I have some confidence now but I still don't know if the reward is worth the risk. I probably have the best education out of anyone in Four as I spent more time doing homework than I did training.
"Go on, up and get changed," Granddad says. "I'll feed your brothers, and don't forget you can do anything you want to do".
I leave the kitchen and my faithful Granddad. He is the most supportive person; I know but he is a fool to put faith in me.
On my way up the stairs I run into Brine. He and I are the only two eligible for the reaping.
"Hurry up and get breakfast," I say, to which he rolls his eyes but goes anyway.
Then, I suddenly remember I forgot to have breakfast. Oh well, I could go without eating anyway. I'll probably last to the reaping and after because people go without food for a while.
I reach the plain, boring, white door of the box room or my room. Inside the walls are a drab grey, my favourite colour and the only furniture in it is a wardrobe and a single bed.
Then I open up the old creaky wardrobe and pull out a knee length white cotton dress along with some with flats and two bits of pink silk ribbon: one large, one small. I proceed quickly to the bathroom carrying all my clothes.
I get to the bathroom only to be overcome with the smell of deodorant. Brine must've sprayed a lot because there is a lack of oxygen in here. We have an old power shower which hasn't been upgraded for about ten years at this stage but thanks to me it's still as clean as when it was first bought. I shower quickly removing all my hard work from last night. It's a shame to see all that make-up go to waste.
Soon after I get out of the shower and dry myself off and blow dry my ginger hair. I wipe the crooked old mirror and apply a new layer of foundation. After I've done that I move onto my eyes then my lips and by the time that done I find I only have fifteen minutes until my friend Riviera gets here. That worries me as I haven't even got my dress on. I quickly slip it on and then tie the larger pink ribbon around my waist. I get the smaller ribbon and tie up my hair with it leaving a nice high ponytail with a bow.
I run down the stairs rushing for the door, only to see Brine waiting for me looking sharp in a navy blazer, white V-neck and black skinny jeans. His hair is combed over.
"Look at you handsome," I smile.
Brine doesn't seem to think he is handsome as he says, "The jeans are so ugly and impractical. What sort of guy needs these when he'll be working on a boat?"
Not a moment later do we hear a soft knock on the door that can only be Riviera. I open the door the reveal a tall girl with blonde hair dressed in a green floral frock with capped sleeves.
"Hey Riviera," I chirp.
"Hey Maritime," She murmurs.
I shout goodbye and drag Brine out the door with me. We walk in an awkward silence for about twenty minutes but I don't mind as during that time we walked past the elegant yet slightly creepy graveyard and the large anchor the sits in a flower bed as a memorial to all those who lost their lives at sea.
"So are you planning on volunteering Riviera?" asks Brine inquisitively.
Riviera shakes her head and responds, "I'm not good enough for the games."
Brine smiles at her, "I'm sure you are."
Brine is just so kind sometimes, I hardly think we're related. I judge everyone and yet he is just so kind to everyone no matter who they are or their background.
We soon stumble across the magnificent floating square of Four. It is essentially a large pontoon directly opposite the justice building but I think it is beautiful. There is a large fountain that is just behind the main stage of the pontoon and it is constantly spraying water everywhere. I can definitely understand why people say Four is the most picturesque District.
To get to the pontoon, however, we have to go through security. When I finally reach the top of the queue. The obnoxious peacekeeper calls "next!" I shuffle forward and put my hand out. The slight prick is enough for me to bite my lip. I wait for Riviera so we can walk to the eighteen year old section.
I end up being squashed between a huge manly looking girl with a pig nose and Riviera. I'm smaller than both of them so I don't look extremely intimidating. While looking around to see who is here, a thought pops into my head. I should volunteer. I quickly shun that idea, thinking that my life is more important than money.
The sections start to fill up with many frightened faces and even more rowdy teens ready to sacrifice their lives for a chance at glory and fame, and the thought volunteering again pops into my head. If I win, I can get all the gold I want and I can financially help my Dad after my mother bled him dry.
"Screw it," I say, a bit too loud as I get look as if I'm deranged from Riviera.
"I'm going to volunteer, my dad needs money and I want gold so if I win I can have both."
"Maritime, you can't just throw away your life like that!" Riviera snaps.
I just shake my head and smile to myself, I finally made a decision without the help of my dad. I'm proud of me.
I am cut off in my celebrations by the horribly loud voice of Four's escort, Orestes Opal. He is so old, I feel as if he is a dinosaur despite only being in his fifties. He has blue hair and is dressed in a grotesque turquoise suit. Good grief, people from the Capital have no sense of style.
"Welcome, future tributes!" he says. His voice booming around the place.
The reaping drones on and on until we get to the part where people's names are picked out of a bowl.
"Ladies first," He says.
He toddles over the girls bowl and pulls out a slip of paper.
"Oceania Markos!" He calls.
A tiny fifteen year old walks towards the stage with her head held high.
"Any volunteers?" he asks against Oceania's will.
I raise my hand and say the worst words in the world. "I volunteer!"
"Well, come on up and introduce yourself" Orestes says.
The walk up is fine, only for Oceania's glaring: I wouldn't mind it, but her glare is rather unsettling.
"What's your name dear?" He asks.
"I'm Maritime Meridian." I smile.
"Well Miss Meridian, shall we see who your partner is?"
I cross my finger and hope that he is weak so I'll have better odds. Orestes pulls out a name and is about to call it when a boy shouts "I volunteer!"
He says his name is Tully and he is a monster compared to me. He must have at least six or seven inches on me and his arms are twice many three times the size of mine. I am really starting to regret volunteering. We shake hands before we are lead to the Justice building.
Being locked in the room gives me time to reflect on the stupid decision I made. I'm going to die and I already know it. There is no way I can win, not after seeing Tully. My thoughts are cut off by my brothers Storm and Brine rushing in along with Riviera.
I shout at them saying "I made a stupid mistake!" but all they do is hug me and tell me that I can win, which I can't.
Next in to my surprise is not only my Dad but my mother as well.
"Your Father made me come say goodbye," she hissed.
I look at her furiously. "Goodbye Mother," I say harshly.
With that she gets up and leaves.
Dad just embraces me in a hug not speaking what so ever until the end.
"Be safe Maritime" He says before being dragged out the door.
Finally Granddad limps in.
"Do you have a token?" he asks
I nod and point to the pink ribbon on my head.
"Win for me, won't you?"
He kisses my forehead and leaves.
Since he departed I'm alone again and for the first time I'm truly aware of what I let myself in for. There is no guarantee that I'll come out alive and once I'm in there nobody can help me. I won't be as beautiful as some of the girls or as strong as the other careers so I don't have anything that can help me win these games. I'm basically a sitting duck waiting to be swallowed by a shark. Only time will tell if I win or if I lose. My hand goes to my ribbon in my hair, if I die I want to still have this ribbon with me. A tear comes to my eye and before long I'm bawling.
I'm not a true career.
Tullius "Tully" Pike, District 4 Male- Nrrd-Grrl-Meg
"I don't want to die without any scars." - Chuck Palahniuk
She smells of honeysuckle and an ocean breeze and it takes everything in me to pay attention to what she is proposing. Her ruby lips are moving, but no sound reaches my ears; instead, I just imagine them pressed against my own. She is everything I have in life and everything I desire and right now, yet she has me pinned at the precipice, my toes dangling on the edge of the cliff.
Literally. She is standing just inches behind me as I look down at the raging water below and her very kissable lips are daring me to plunge into the drink below. There is little she doesn't know about me and right now, she is pushing every button, molding me like putty in her hands. She runs her fingers down my spine, giggling as I shutter in the breeze that creeps up the side of the cliff.
She is going to kill me one of these times, I know it.
"You've done worse than this before," Thalassa Johnston reminds me, her voice like a melody that swirls around me. "Don't be a chicken shit."
She's right, but Thalassa is always right. Last year, after we escaped The Reaping, we found ourselves drinking a bottle of Marlin Johnston's finest wine and hanging off the side of her family's seafood factory. With half a bottle gone just from myself alone, I ended up hanging upside down from the fire escape, singing the Panem Anthem at the top of my lungs. Thankfully, I was able to talk my way out of a flogging at the hands of some overzealous Peacekeepers, but it was a close call nevertheless.
Behind her, the missing piece of our little triangle of friendship begins to bawk at me, his voice loud and piercing and overall annoying. Even without the adrenaline pumping through my veins, I would have jumped to get away from the sound of Trent Yarrow's voice.
Before my better judgment could advise me against it, my body flew forward and the waves crashing against the side of the cliff grew closer and closer. For all I know, I could be diving into a foot of water water and death is moments away, but I do not care. If death was going to take me, it would have done so by now. Death has snipped at my heels before, getting so close I could taste it on my tongue and yet, here I am.
I am going to decide when death can have me, not the other way around.
My last jump ended with the scar that remains across my left knee and nearly crippled me. For nearly half a year I was laid up in bed, waiting for the swelling to die down enough for me to even think of putting my weight on it. A single miscalculation at the age of twelve and I was sidelined for six months and live with a scar to remind me that I'm not as invincible as I make myself out to be. As though the jagged scar across my chest wasn't enough.
Twin sets of balled-up fists hit the blue first, followed by the rest of my body and for a brief moment, I am unsure of my fate. Air escapes my lungs at a fast rate and my eyes are stuck closed. My toes tickle the sand and rocks that sit lazily on the ocean bottom, while my head puts together the verdict.
Alive. Very much alive.
I rise up and reward myself with oxygen. Far above me, I hear their cheers and I am drunk off their praise. My fathers says I'm an addict and attention and glory is my drug, and maybe he's right. But this is my life, not his, and I'm going to live it as I see fit.
Thalassa joined me within moments, followed behind by Trent, who thought it wise to cannonball into the water, instead of dive like the rest of us did. Splashing and name calling ensued, our laughter carrying out to sea as we acted as though we hadn't a care in the world. The sun grew more intense as time went on, quickly changing places in the sky as we allowed our guards down enough to have a little fun. Any other day, we wouldn't have paid any attention to the world around us, outside of our growling stomachs, but today isn't any other day.
Thanks to District Four's status as a Career district, it is assumed that we never have to worry about being Reaped and unfortunately, that couldn't be further from the truth. Two years ago, when District Four last saw a victor, Maria Schmidt, an eighteen year old daughter of canning factory workers, was Reaped along side a shoe-in for victor, the mayor's own son, Fjord Bayou, no one stepped in to take her place and she was sent into the games. Armed with a trident, she made light work of the Bloodbath and stood her ground against all others, even the popular vote to win, Fjord. To this day, the mayor refuses to even look at Maria, knowing that she is the reason his son never came home again. So, while it is not often that one is reaped from Four, it does happen and sometimes, they get lucky.
And luck is something I am said to have in spades.
The white sand near the district's main harbor is where we find our clothes and blanket, giving up the water for the morning. Trent tosses his white shirt over his wet torso, which just ends up as a see-through mess, and plops down in the sand, sending it flying around him like dust in the air. Thalassa, on the other hand, doesn't bother putting back on her clothes; instead, she allows the sun to dry the drops of water that cascade down her lithe frame while stretching out on the sole blanket we brought with us. Myself? I find a spot on the rocks to our left, also letting the sun dry me off before I end up looking like drowned cat.
"What if one of us is Reaped?" Trent breaks the ice with the subtle and grace he is not known for. "Do you think someone would take our place?"
"The Training Center usually has tributes in mind, Marlin says, but it doesn't always pan out," Thalassa informs him, while ringing out her hair. "The girl that was supposed to go in for Maria backed out when she saw that the girl was some-what trained."
There is a hint of bitterness in her voice and one can easily understand it. She, herself, has been training under her brother since the year he came back from the games, so she could easily find herself in the same position as Maria at any moment. On top of that, the Capitol is always on the lookout for another pair of sibling victors...
"I'm going to volunteer this year." Trent's remark is met with a fit of laughter from the rest of us and his face turns crimson. "What? I'd make a damn good tribute."
I can barely make my joke come out clearly as my chest heaves with excitement. "Yo-you...you'd trip...at the st-start...and explode!"
Thalassa beings slapping her leg and roars like a hyena, while Trent grows even more bitter. "BOOM!" she manages to get out, before collapsing into the blanket.
Taking our laughter and jokes as a lack of faith, he stormed off down the harbor, which lead to the main road in town. While he is usually the one cracking jokes at our expense, he can be unusually sensitive at times, which we forgot to take into consideration. All at once, I feel the guilt of belittling my best friend in his time of need and guidance.
"Do you think he was serious?" she asked, her eyes swimming in the same guilt I was feeling. "I mean, he isn't known for bring a violent guy."
"Neither was your brother."
"Dually noted."
I can't help but let out a sigh. "He's right, though. Guys like us might make good tributes."
She raises her eyebrows and looks at me. "Really now?" When my expression doesn't change, she says it again. "Really?"
I simply nod and she goes on the attack. "Are you dense? You think it's a damn game?"
"To be fair, it's in the title..."
"This is serious!" She's on her feet now, pacing back and forth, kicking sand up as she goes. "Tully, you haven't seen the other side of the games, how the victors are when they come home. My parents couldn't handle Marlin's outbursts and drinking, despite all their promises to be there for him when he got home. I've been doing it since I was ten years old...I gave up my childhood to help him forget the faces of the tributes he took out with his bow and arrow. He sees his district partner almost every night in his dreams. He's only been sober for the past year, but that's because he's grown attached to Maria after bringing her home. You...you're selfish."
Her words hurt. Anyone else and I can brush it off, but not Thalassa Johnston. Her lips, almost ruby in color against her tan skin, quiver and the only thing I can think of to do is press my own against hers to stop them from breaking my heart. Funnily enough, she allows me to do so.
"I'm not selfish, Thal," I inform her, once we catch our breath. "I want to prove that I am worth something, that while I'm never going to be Hurley, I'm still a Pike. I'm still his son and I'm pretty damn awesome."
Now it's her turn to sigh. She knows what I'm going through because her parents feel the same way about her. They paid a lot of money for her brother to train and while they are happy enough to live off of the fact that their son is a victor, they won't help clean up the mess they created. Marlin was once the smartest guy in the room, brilliant and calculating. He was the leader of his Career pack, all five others answering to him and him alone. Every plan, every move went through him first and for the first time in years, all members of the Career pack made it to the final eight. It wasn't until the day before The Feast that things went to hell.
I am not Marlin. I'm not calculating or even brilliant in the slightest. I can't hit a tribute in the eye for fifty yards away and keep going like nothing happened. But I have a fire within me to prove to my Sea Captain father that I am not just some worthless, directionless freeloader. My older brother was born to be a man of the sea, a man my father would be proud to call his son. I am not Hurley, I am Tullius Pike. I'm the kid that wasn't supposed to make it past five years old here I am, strapping and strong. My scars, they make me whom I am and I wouldn't change it for anything.
I won't do this for my father, nor my brother. My mother knows my worth, so she doesn't need my win to remind her.
I'm doing this for Tully Pike. I'm doing it for me.
"Maybe I am selfish," I mutter to myself, too low for Thalassa to hear.
The sun, which seemed to only come out just a short time ago, was really letting its presence known. I can't help but follow its position in the sky, noting that while it hadn't hit high noon yet, it was getting close.
Wait a second...
"THE REAPING!"
Thalassa's eyes grow wide in horror as the realization that we are royally screwed hits her. If we miss Reaping, they will come for us and it won't be pretty. There is no time to see if Trent realized it and barely enough time for us to gather our things. Dressed only in our wet bathing suits, we throw on our sandals and bolt at full speed to the Town Square, which is luckily not that far from the harbor.
As we grew closer to our destination, I could hear our long-standing escort prattling on and welcoming future tributes, while the crowd begins to rumble. With no one in line, our fingers are pricked quickly and with annoyed force on their end, obviously pissed that we're so late and not in our Reaping best. Luckily they recognize our only male victor's little sister, so they let us go with little resistance and we slid our way into our pens and await the outcome. Nowhere to be found, however, is Trent.
If no one goes up, if Marlin's tribute doesn't make a show of it, I'm in.
With his blue hair and hideous turquoise suit, Orestes Opal must be every Capitol stereotype thrown into a blender with flair added to it and he's making it worse with the toddle walk that he does over to the girls' bowl.
"Ladies first!" he fingers all the names in the bowl, before pulling out the unlucky lady. "Oceania Markos!"
The name sounds familiar, but I can't put the face to memory as a fifteen year old makes her way the stage, keeping her head high as to not embarrass her family. However, her walk is short lived, as Orestes asks for volunteers.
"I volunteer!"
Her face, I do recognize. Maritime Meridian, the only daughter of a rival fisherman. After his wife left him high and dry with three kids, the family faced some hard times, but not hard enough were Maritime couldn't train. Stuck up, judgmental, and vain, this girl is probably going to grind my gears until we hit the arena. If I make it to the-
"Well, Miss Meridian, shall we see who your partner is?" Another toddle to the bowl and another name is called. "Calder Zale!"
Trembling, a kid barely old enough to be in the Reaping makes his way up the middle path to the stage, his cries audible over the murmur of the crowd. His hair is a mess, his clothes are loose fitting, he's a younger sibling wearing his big brother's hand-me-downs, I can tell. Hell, I was that kid a few years ago. And, despite our vow to never let a child go into the games, no one makes a move. Not a single guy makes a move. Trent, man...I thought you wanted this?
But it isn't a trained tribute that takes this kid place, nor is it Trent or his big brother. I raise my hand as though I've got the right answer at school and my voice booms out across the crowd.
"I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!"
Calder can't help but give me a hug before rushing back to his spot, leaving me alone as I walk with confidence towards my fate. Maritime stares me down, her gaze never wavering, as I make my way up with pride in my step. If they want to see a weakling, they can keep on moving. I'm the guy that fears nothing.
"And whom are you?" Orestes asks, fawning over me. "You sure are handsome."
With all the gusto I can muster, I blurt out, "Pike. Tully Pike, sir."
He forces us to shake hands, which I do with style, even winking at Maritime to get her going. Our escort giggles, while the crowd starts eating out of my hand. I keep it going by taking a bow, sending some of the younger kids in hysterics and making the ladies swoon. Of course, this is just my nature. Peacekeepers try in vain to calm down the crowd, while I keep it going. I kiss our elderly mayor, Madame Briny Delta, on the lips before Peacekeepers grab me and start shoving me into the Justice Center. I'm kinda glad too, because the only way to top that was probably stage diving back into the crowd.
"Wait here, kid!" I find myself flying face first into the first small room, barely missing the end table that seemed a bit out of place. "You'll have an hour to say your goodbyes."
His voice is ominous and I can't help but shutter. Did I really damn myself to an early grave? Should I have just let that kid die instead?
No. Kid or no kid, I would have volunteered anyway.
My older brother Hurley comes in first, noticeably missing his wife and hiding his eyes that match my own under his fishing cap. What they don't hide is the pained expression that hurts so bad. At first, he doesn't say a word and just stands there, like a lump on a log. And then-
"You've gotta come back, Tull!" His burly arms, so used to dragging in hauls of fish out of the ocean, wrap around me and I find myself hugging him back. "I can't lose you, little brother. I just can't."
It was never a secret that my brother loved me, he was just never one to show it. As our father's son, he wasn't really allowed to, it wasn't what was expected of him. And yet, here he was, his tears soaking my bare shoulder as he refuses to let me go. I can't bring myself to be the first one to let go, so I let him have at it for the next few minutes.
"Noelani is having a boy." I can almost see it coming and yet, it doesn't stop from hurting my pride when it does. "I'm going to name him Tully after you if the worst should happen."
What he isn't saying is when you don't come back. When you end up decapitated by some hulking sociopath from Two or jumped by a scared child from Eleven. He's already counting on me not coming back and it's making me doubt myself.
"Why did you do it, Tull?"
I shrug my shoulders. "You know why, Hurl."
He knows, but he doesn't say.
"I love you, little brother," he says, before leaving me.
"I love you, too."
Thalassa's tears greet me next and I can't hide my feelings anymore. I pull my best friend in and, for a moment, it is only us in the world. She blubbers, not making a single lick of sense, and yet, I can understand it all. She is mad at me for leaving her and begging me not to go.
"I'm coming back, Thal," I reassure her, my voice swaying like a boat during a storm. "I promise."
"I made Marlin promise me that, but he couldn't do it," she informs me, drying her eyes with the back of her hand. "The odds aren't always there, no matter how good you are."
"I wouldn't have done this if I didn't think I could do it," I remind her, kissing her wet cheek. "This is the only way to show my dad that I am worthy."
She shakes her head and looks down. "You're an idiot is you've ever thought for just one moment that you weren't already."
Without saying goodbye, she storms off, leaving me with just her words.
I expect Trent to come in next, yelling at me about stealing his thunder, or not grabbing him when we realized the time, but he never shows up. Instead, my last visitors are my parents. While Hurley gets his darker features from our father, there isn't a doubt to anyone whom I take after, in both looks and personality. Morwenna Pike, matriarch of the Pike family and all around amazing woman, storms into the room and slaps me across the face. After the sting reaches my senses, she pulls me in for a hug.
"Tully...why'd ya do it?"
"Mother..."
"I can't lose you, Tully," she sobs, before hitting me in the shoulder. "I almost lost you once, I can't even think about what it would be like to have you gone from our lives."
On instinct, my hand moves to the jagged scar slashed down my chest.
"Do what you need to, Tully," her green eyes burn into mine as she gives me the last advice she may ever have the chance to give me. "Make alliances and kill others; you won't make it by relying solely on your looks and personality. You're going to have to become the villain if you want to make it out alive."
She kisses me on the forehead, then leaves me. For the first time in my life, she is forced to abandon me.
"Tullius." For whatever reason, Leith Pike has never once in his life called me anything other than "son" or my given name, Tullius. "I-"
"I know, dad."
"Make sure you come back."
"I will, dad."
"I'm...I'm proud of you, son. No matter what."
With a strong handshake, he leaves me and it's only then that I allow myself to fully feel the gravity of my situation and it hits me all at once. Sparing the life of that kid that didn't even bother to thank me is ending my own before I even turn seventeen. The reason I did it was to have my dad say the words he left me with and now I feel so hallow.
I got everything I've ever wanted and now I'm going to die.
My mind finds its way back to my other best friend and right hand. Trent should have been here by now, biting my head off for stealing his thunder and threatening to volunteer next year and make a better showing than I did. Last I saw him, he was making a dash down the pier, going towards his house...
….Trent wasn't in our section at the Reaping. He must have missed it. And if that's the truth, then that means...
Oh no...