Indigo Girl

Ocean Tide, Chapter 3

25 May 2012 Leave a Comment

by DMarie in Ocean Tide, Writing Tags: annie, annie cresta, fanfiction, fannie, Finnick, Finnick Odair, Hunger Games, Ocean Tide

I’ve had this blog for two years, and for the most part, it’s been incredibly ignored. And now, I post Hunger Games fanfictions, and my inbox is overflowing with notifications. Brilliant This is more favorites/followings in one day than I usually get from the fanfiction website in a week! I feel so loved. This is chapter THREE. Make sure you read Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 first! Kat did my editing <3 As always, feedback is loved very much.

The crowd around me is heavy as hundreds of people attempt to make their way onto the narrow streets beyond. I stand on my toes, searching for my father’s head bobbing above the throng of people, but I get swept aside by people rushing to get home. I’m herded into an alleyway against my will. Somebody shoves me into the side of a building in their haste to get by. Momentarily stunned by the blow, I stagger into some trashcans, spilling fish remains over my good shoes. This won’t do. I’m being shoved into the opposite direction of my house. I push myself into a doorway and wait for a break in the crowd.

It takes a few minutes for me to find the chance to leave. I push my way against the stragglers and return to the main square, sprinting and darting through the still packed space, shoving my way to the alley that leads home. By the time I break free of the crowd and get home, my parents are already there, seated at the table, drinking tea. My father leaps up and wraps me in a huge hug. My mother holds open her arms, and I go over to her. “I was so worried,” she says softly. I let her hug me for a moment, before wriggling free.

“I’m fine, Mother. A little shaken, as always, but I’m still here.”

She gives a little half smile. “Don’t mind me. I’m just being overprotective.” At those words, I feel a twinge of guilt. Of course she was worried, even I was worried. I smile, hoping to reassure her.

“It’s fine. I know you were worried.” I plop myself into a vacant chair. “I didn’t eat much this morning…is dinner soon?”

Dinner, compared to breakfast, is incredibly loud and boisterous. For once, we eat something other than fish- Father has traded to get us some sort of bird. My mother cooked it with many herbs and spices, so it’s incredibly juicy, and the meat practically falls from the bones. I savor every bite, knowing it will be a very long time before I can have anything quite as delicious again.

After dinner is finished and cleaned up, I meander into the sitting room, sucking the remaining meat from my teeth. My mother and father sit in armchairs watching the recap of the reapings. “What’d I miss?” I say, settling into the threadbare couch as Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickerman appear, dressed in their Capitol finery, discussing what a great-looking bunch of tributes there are this year. Of course, they say that every year, so I don’t pay them any mind.

District 1 appears on the screen. Both tributes selected are replaced by volunteers, both clearly stronger and trained to be Careers: A tall, slim, blonde girl, and a short but broad-shouldered boy. Both are incredibly well-groomed and fit; clearly they’ve never experienced the feeling of being hungry. The girl smiles dazzlingly for the cameras and tosses her hair, and the boy cracks his knuckles.

District 2 has one volunteer, and District 3 has none. It comes you our district- we look all right in comparison- well, Callan, anyways. Ariel, up close, looks ready to fall over. Casear and Claudius notice this, and she’s immediately written off as a weakling. Nobody knows her story, which, I suppose is a good thing- we wouldn’t want signs of an uprising reaching the Capitol. Then again, I don’t think they’d share it with the rest of Panem.

After our district, the reapings become uninteresting. As the numbers grow higher, the tributes grow thinner and duller-looking. Finally, two skeletal tributes, shaking and covered in coal dust, are selected from District 12. It’s clear they’ll hardly make it past the initial bloodbath.

The television flicks off, and we stand up from the couch and stretch. Mother goes to find the cat and let it out. After a moment, she returns. “Finnick? Someone’s left something for you.” She hands me a small, tightly woven basket with a lid. A shaky hand has scrawled my name on a scrap of parchment.

I lift the lid off. Inside is a spool of fishing wire, and a small carved wooden mug. I frown at the package, and look at my mother. “Did you see who left it?

She shakes her head at me. “Nobody was around. I made sure to check…there really aren’t that many places for people to hide around here.”

Huh. Weird. I examine the mug closer. It’s…ordinary. I put it in the kitchen before heading to bed.

XxXxX

I’m up early the next morning to go fishing with my father. We stay closer to shore, away from the other boats. It’s nice and calming; we don’t talk, and the rest of the world is still asleep. With the calm water, fishing is almost as peaceful as my underwater sanctuary.

When we return to shore, Kione is waiting for me at the end of the docks. I can hardly look at him. I chuck the fish in his direction, not bothering with manners. I hear a yell as the fish slap his face. Good.

School that day is absolutely buzzing with gossip. Surprisingly, nobody really cared about Callan, despite the fact that he could win the Games for us. Instead, the main focus was on Ariel.

“I heard she told Sheldon that she wasn’t going to fight at all, just stand there at the bloodbath.”

“I heard she planned on winning, and then killing the Head Gamemakers.”

“I heard she was going to try to escape before the Games and wreck havoc on the Capitol”

“So what did you hear?” My friend Kai Tyne slides into his typical seat next to me in our Panem Geography class, and looks at me expectantly. “I hear Ariel took out extra rations to guarantee her name got selected.”

“You’d have to take out an awful lot of rations, though, wouldn’t you?” Behind Kai, Meri Edlen is seated. “I’ve heard something completely different from all of you.”

“I’ve heard…I’ve heard…that’s all anybody has said to me today.” Nonetheless, I scoot my chair slightly closer to Meri. She grins; glad she’s captured my attention.

“I’ve heard that the Capitol made sure that Ariel’s name was selected in the reaping. You know,” She drops her voice lower. “Because of her parents.”

I’m so stunned by this that it takes me a minute to react. “Watch what you’re saying,” I hiss at them both. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

“Please,” scoffs Meri. “There aren’t any Peacekeepers around.” Still, she looks over her shoulder nervously.

“It’s just rumors, anyways,” she says, picking up her scuffed notebook and flipping to an empty page. “I didn’t say this. So I can’t get in trouble…right?”

“Don’t risk it,” says Kai. “I don’t want anything to happen to one of my only friends.

“Your only friend,” shoots back Meri.

“What am I, then?” I ask, feigning hurt.

“You’re Finnick,” laughs Kai. “We don’t know what you are!”

Our teacher calls us to attention, and we straighten ourselves up and face forward. “It has come to our attention that rumors have been flying around the school about the tributes for our district.” I turn and give Meri an ‘I told you so’ look

“I have been instructed to inform you that any more gossip on this matter will not be tolerated. Henceforth, anyone caught discussing the tributes in this manner will be turned over to the Peacekeepers and punished. Severely.” A murmur ripples through the classroom. “Do I make myself clear?” Our teacher says, intently trying to stare each and every one of us in the eye. Never before had that been done. Several people raised their hands to ask about it and she just waved them off.

A hushed whisper of ‘yes’s’ and ‘yes ma’am’s’ wave through the room.

“Good. Now open your books to page 394.”

XxXxX

The rest of our classes glide by quietly for the remainder of the day. After school lets out, Kai, Meri and I head down to the beach for a swim.

When we arrive, the shore isnt very crowded. The fishers had all gathered at one end, so we headed for the other. We find a quiet area, and just as we’re about to settle down, I spot a familiar figure walking by the cliffs, hunched over.

“Annie!” I call. She doesn’t look up, but keeps walking, dragging her feet in the sand. I hold my finger up to my friends and run after her. “Annie!” I catch up and grab her shoulder. She cringes away, batting my hand. “Annie, it’s me.” She finally turns to face me. There’s a massive bruise on her forehead, a sick yellowish-purple color. I reach out to touch it, but stop myself at the last second. “Is that from Kione?”

She nods at me, eying my hand warily. I drop it to my side, and she relaxes a little. “Are you okay?” I ask her. “I just wanted to check on you. I gave Kione his fish this morning. Bastard doesn’t deserve them.” A hint of a smile appears on her lips, but she continues to look at her feet. Behind me, I can hear my friends calling for me to join them. “I was just about to go swimming with my friends, do you want to join us? They’re really nice.” Annie shakes her head frantically.
“I cant, my mother…” She whispers, trailing off quickly, and I mentally kick myself for bringing it up. Poor girl must be terrified of water.

“Well…if you need anything, you let me know, okay?” I say, scrambling for words. “I feel terrible about what Kione did to you. If you want, I can give you some fish next week.” She doesn’t respond to this. “Anything at all,” I finish lamely. “See you around.” I call to her as she turns and practically sprints away. Strange little girl. 

“Finnick, will you hurry up?” I turn and catch up to my friends. “Who was that?” asks Kai. “Was that Annie Cresta?”

“Yeah. I helped her avoid Kione yesterday, wanted to check up on her.”

“Only Kione would try and hit a little kid.” Kai flops over in the sand, letting the waves wash over him. Meri flops down beside him. “She seemed pretty shy around you,” she says with an impish grin. “I think she liiiikes you.”

I roll my eyes. My friends are so immature. “She’s ten, Mer.”

“I don’t know, Finnick.” Kai sits up and leans on his elbow. “She was tongue-tied around you! Isn’t that a sign a girl likes you?”

“It sure is,” chimes in Meri. “She’s smitten.”

“Annie Cresta is shy around everyone and you know it.” I wade into the water, searching with my toes for shellfish. Kai is saying something to me, but I can’t hear him over the sound of surf sloshing around my legs. He repeats whatever it is, waving his arms at me. I wade back. “What are you going on about now?”

“I SAID, speaking of smitten, here comes Cora!” My gaze followed to what he was pointing to. Down the beach was Cora Torlan, with her usual group of girl friends- I’d recognize her white-blond hair anywhere. I felt my heart flutter. Cora was by far the prettiest girl in school. I had always wanted the chance to talk to her, but I never found the courage.

Meri was well aware of this, so why she was suddenly on her feet waving at Cora was beyond me. “Hey, Cora!” Cora looks over and gives a small wave. “Come over here!”

I glare at Meri, and she smiles sweetly as Kai congratulates her. Cora is walking over, frowning slightly. “Hello, Meri, Kai.” She hardly glances my way. “Finnick.” I can feel my stomach drop. I turn and slosh back out into the water, as Meri strikes up a conversation with Cora. I take a few steps before throwing myself forward into the waves. Underwater, Cora can’t see how disappointed I am. I scour the shallow water for the shellfish I had felt earlier. I resurface minutes later with a handful, to find everybody staring at me intently.

“What?” I ask, dropping the shellfish into Kai’s outstretched hand. He starts to divide them up.

“You were under there for a while,” says Cora, a bit breathlessly.

I give her my best ‘well, duh!’ look. “I was. I can hold my breath for a good while.” Kai flashes me a grin and a wink as he cracks open his shellfish. I fight the urge to throw sand at him. It really isn’t that big of a deal.

Apparently it was, to Cora. “That’s longer than Callan could hold his for!” We all flinch, and she quickly corrects herself. “Can. He still can hold his breath.” She grins at me, a grin that makes me want to melt into the sand. “But not nearly as long as you can!” I fight back the urge to blush. I start doodling in the damp sand with my foot.

“He’s the best swimmer in the District!” pipes up Meri. Cora gives her a look that clearly says back off! Kai takes over.

“Fin here started swimming long before any of us, I think. He helps out on his father’s boat quite a bit, too. and he’s pretty strong.” I’m positive that I’m blushing right now.

From down the beach, Cora’s friends are calling to her. “I need to go,” she says quickly. “It was nice talking to you.” She turns to me. “I’ll see you Monday in school?” she asks. All I can do is nod. I’m at a complete and total loss for words. Cora gives my arm a squeeze. “Oooh, I can feel your muscles.” Okay, NOW I’m at a loss for words. She squeezes my arm again, and runs off down the beach.

Kai and Meri are looking at me like I’ve just won a free pass to the Capitol, no death penalty. “What?”

“I think she has a crush on you, Fin!” Kai reaches up to slap my back.

I settle onto the sand beside him and reach for a Mussel. “She didn’t like me, she liked my swimming ability. Is that what girls go by now? Swimming? Aren’t girls supposed to like you for your personality?”

“Fin, we’re thirteen. We’ve known each other for all our lives. We don’t really have much else to go off of.” Kai sighs, and starts to dig in the sand with an empty shell. “When did we become so grown-up, anyways? Caring about why girls like us?”

“Every year, two of our friends are taken to the Capitol and forced to kill others. I think we need to be grown-up, just a little,” says Meri wisely.

Neither of us can argue with that.

Ocean Tide Chapter 2

24 May 2012 1 Comment

by DMarie in Ocean Tide, Writing Tags: annie, annie cresta, fanfiction, fannie, Finnick, Finnick Odair, Hunger Games, Ocean Tide

Hi there! Continuing to post my fanfiction on here, so some of my non-FF.net friends can read it! I don’t own the rights to Hunger Games, this is just for the sake of fun. Enjoy, and if you can, please review! Thanks to Kat for editing for me

My father is waiting for me by the docks, holding a box of tools and a mop. “What the hell did Kione want?” he asks as I reach him. “He passed, and said something about two fish tomorrow. What’s that all about?”

I’m surprised Kione had the nerve to mention extra fish to my father. He’s a tall, broad man, with well-defined muscles from years of pulling fish from the ocean. While he’s usually a kind-hearted man, he’s not someone to mess with. I’ve seen him pick up and throw Kione before, for leering at my mother. Kione was being incredibly bold to mention that.

“I promised him two fish tomorrow. He was beating up little Annie Cresta.”

My father swears under his breath. “Kione has no brains upstairs. That little girl is harmless. Everybody knows her father can’t stand another tragedy.” He spits on the sand. “That man doesn’t deserve those fish. Make sure you give him something really bony.”

My father’s fishing boat is at the end of the docks. It’s the biggest one there, but still only big enough for a crew of four or five. At least it’s the best-looking boat on the docks. Even though my father owns it, it still is Capitol property. All of the fishing boats are. Most of the money we receive from our fishing goes into repairing the boat. My father spends all his time taking care of it, so the Capitol doesn’t take it away from him.

We board the boat, and I’m hit with the smell of rotting fish. The deck is coated with sand and kelp. I notice one of the rails has been bent out of place. My father shoos away some gulls that have taken roost on the railing, then sets to work unpacking the toolbox.

“Where’s the rest of the crew?” Usually, when the boat is under repair, everybody pitches in to help.

“I gave them the morning off. I’m just cleaning for the Capitol inspection tonight. Since they’re having so many busybodies in the District anyways, they’re doing inspections early this month.” He straightens up and grins at me, the grin everybody says I’ve inherited from him. “It is such a shame that you had school yesterday. You missed all the action.” He pauses for effect. “We caught a shark.”

I check my father’s face, unsure if he’s joking or not. “Oh come on, quit it. There’s no way you did.”

“A real shark, not one of those Capitol mutts they have patrolling out there.” He hands me a mop. “Shark fins are in high demand in the Capitol right now. I think we’ll get some extra money from them.”

“So we can finally fix that leak in the roof!” For the first time that morning, I felt a spark of hope. If the odds were in our favor, we could be looking at some extra food on the table, at least.

“Not so fast. I need a new sail first. Hopefully we will be able to at least get your mother a proper brace for her knee.” He looks positively cheerful at this thought. He turns to the railing and begins to work on straightening it out. “Get to mopping!” he calls over his shoulder. “Your mother wouldn’t like it if we were late for breakfast!”

XxXxX

The sun is well into the sky by the time we finish with the boat. We walk home, observing the signs of life from the village. Nobody is outside still, but windows are being thrown open to air out the houses.  People have hung their dressy clothes outside, hoping the sun will remove some of the continual dampness that clings to them. From some windows, the smell of breakfast cooking drifts out. If one wasn’t aware of what day it was, and the tragedy that was soon to follow, my village could be mistaken for a wealthy one.

Inside my house, breakfast has been laid on the table. My mother stands up from her chair shakily, and my father rushes over to steady her. She smiles at him, and for a minute I am caught up in how beautiful they look together. Before my mother’s knee injury, she was the best swimmer in the District. People often joked that she was secretly a mermaid, with her aquatic ability and good looks.

Mother hobbles her way over to the stove, brushing off my father’s attempts to help her. She returns with three bowls of hot grains. This is our standard breakfast, but today she’s topped it with little berries. Next, she brings over flat rolls spread with a thin layer of cheese, and on top of that was a layer of smoked fish my mother had saved for the occasion, however somber. We sit around the table and begin to eat, but the conversation is lacking. The formal breakfast has caused the realization to set in. Today could be my last day here.

After we eat, Father cleans up the plates, and Mother pushes me upstairs to bathe and get dressed.  After scrubbing myself clean of the dried salt water, I pull on long pants that used to belong to my father- they drag along in the dust- and button on a nice shirt. I’m not used to wearing shirts. I spend most of my time in the water, in the sun, fishing; shirts were unnecessary most of the time. The collar is itchy. Mother has been carried upstairs. She comes into the bedroom and combs my hair flat. She looks at me in the mirror and our eyes meet. Wordlessly, she puts her arms around me. We stay like that for a minute, before Father calls us from downstairs.

I’m pushed out the front door into the crowded streets. People have finally emerged from their houses and are heading towards the square. The movement is mechanical and forced. People stare ahead and file obediently towards their designated areas. I’ve heard sheep behave the same way, but I’ve never seen one of those in my life.

I’m swept along with everybody else. I look back to find where my parents have gone, but they’re already lost in the crowd.  I feel a pang of sadness. If I get selected, I’ll only get to see them one more time. Suddenly I’m regretting my silence at the table.

Those of us who are of-age are checked in and herded into our appropriate areas. I stand amongst my classmates and friends, trying to smile and laugh with them, but it’s forced. I can see it too, in their eyes. That fear that today could be their last day in this District.

And then the mayor is on the stage, addressing us, reading the story of how the Games came to be, like every year. I’ve memorized the story, and I find myself unable to focus on anything he’s saying. My heart is pounding; I can hear my pulse in my ears, racing like I’ve been swimming with a strong current. I can’t get enough air, and my palms start to sweat. This is it. Fredrick Himpleton is stepping up to the microphone now. For a moment, I am distracted by what he’s wearing- everything is turquoise, except for his hair, which is a white-blonde and spiked up like a puffer fish. My body vibrates with the adrenaline that comes with the nerves as I watch him saunter over to the girls ball, plunge his hand into the mountain of names, pull one unlucky slip out, and strut back over to the mic. It looks as if he is having trouble undoing the tape on the slip, and when he finally unhinges it, he calls a name.

“Ariel Stone.”

A pale sixteen-year-old with stringy red hair slowly removes herself from the crowd. I’ve seen her before in the halls of school. She isn’t a Career, but I’ve seen her throw small stones and watch them wedge their way into targets from over a hundred yards. She’ll go far in the Games. You can tell by the look on her face that she’s holding back tears, like she knows no one will volunteer for her. It’s not like she is the most popular girl in school, not someone the town would really miss. She wasn’t very nice, come to think of it. But, I guess that has to do with the tragedies of living in a world like our own. Her parents were murdered by the Capitol. Taken, and tortured for months before the were executed, and the only explanation the Capitol would give was that her parents frequently disobeyed laws and that we should be glad to be rid of a pair like them. I know it was because they attempted to start riots at the Reapings, tried to get us to start an uprising towards the Capitol. My parents told me, they used to be friends with Ariels parents.

I’m brought back from the land of memory to Fredrick calling for volunteers, and nobody steps forward, just as I suspected. Ariel doesn’t look too happy about this, but she also seems to know that no one would volunteer for her. Our old victor, Mags, steps out and gives her a reassuring touch, trying to comfort her, but Ariel shakes her off.

Fredrick then steps over to the glass ball with the boy’s names. His hand hovers, like he’s selecting a piece of candy, and then he daintily selects a paper from the surface. He returns to the microphone, and makes a big show of unfolding the paper. The suspense is killing us, and one twelve-year-old boy falls over. Everybody is momentarily distracted by this, and Fredrick uses the distraction as an opportunity to read the slip, a smile playing at his lips. He must have reached the desired effect.

“Callan Reed!”

I’m momentarily frozen, and then the name sinks in. It isn’t mine. Around me, I can feel the other boys relax, relieved that they’re safe. The fifteen-year-old boy steps forward, cracking his knuckles. A few of his mates clap him on the shoulder, shake his hand. He walks to the stage grinning, clearly he is excited for his moment of glory. Fredrick starts to call for volunteers, but Callan just waves his hand at him, telling him there is no need. Anyone who did volunteer for him would be foolish to do so. He’s clearly a Career, broad and muscular and unafraid. He grins at the camera as it zooms in on him.

“We might have a Victor this year,” the boy next to me whispers. I nod in agreement, still numb. Mags is our only living victor. The few Victors District Four had the glory of claiming have all died, except for Mags. They’d succumbed to the addiction of morphling, or even committed suicide. It’s a gruesome fate. I wonder if Callan could survive it, if he wins. He looks tough enough, and I think he has a very good chance of coming home.

The Tributes turn and shake hands as Fredrick thanks the crowd, and they are all escorted from the stage into the molding Justice Building. The crowd breaks around me, children running off to the safety of their families. I hear many sighs of relief, tears of joy. There will be much celebration tonight, from the families of those who were spared for another year. I wonder how the Tributes will be acting tonight? Can they really celebrate, even as Careers, under the circumstances? Their families will not join in on our celebrations. They’ll most likely pull the curtains to, and grieve, privately. Next week, their children will be fighting to the death, and there is a very real chance they won’t be coming home alive.

And I get to live for one more year.

Ocean Tide, Chapter 1

18 May 2012 Leave a Comment

by DMarie in Ocean Tide, Writing Tags: annie, annie cresta, fanfiction, fannie, Finnick, Finnick Odair, Hunger Games, Ocean Tide

I HAVEN’T POSTED IN AGES. So here’s part of a fanfiction I’ve been writing. It’s also on FF.net (user mage-luna in case you see it and freak out.) WARNING. Slight spoilers for Hunger Games if you haven’t read past book 1. Well, there will be soon, at any rate.

The darkness floods my eyesight as I strain my pupils to find light, hoping to bring relief to the horrifying images still burned into my thoughts. There I am, standing in the roped off area with the other thirteen-year-old boys, waiting for Fredrick Himpleton to pick the tributes names from the two large glass balls on stage. My name, only in twice this year, hopefully resting out of the way. And then Fredrick is at the girl’s ball, and he’s calling a name. “Coral Marina.”

The poor girl, she’s just twelve. And she’s walking up to the stage, staring at her feet the whole way. “Volunteers?” Fredrick asks. Not a soul jumps for the little girl. “Alright. Moving right along, now for the boys!” he says, a smile playing at his lips.

He shuffles his hand around in the ball for a bit, testing slips of paper. He’ll have one almost out of the ball, and then he drops it, going back in for another. Finally, he has one and is walking back to the microphone. “Finnick Odair,” he reads. Okay. I’m all right, I think. Surely someone will volunteer for me? We are a career district. Someone stronger than me should be taking my place. Someone will. I know they will.

And then I’m standing on the stage, and no one is stepping up for me. What is it this year? No one wants to bring home the glory of winning? I’m seeing my death, and its horrible. Someone slashing my throat at the Cornucopia, dying of dehydration, eating poisonous food, being caught in someone’s trap then tortured for hours before being granted the gift of death…

The stillness of the early morning is sweet relief as I sit up, clutching my sheets. Just a dream. I’m still safe in my bed, in my house…for now. I suck in a few deep breaths, letting the smell of fish fill my senses. The house always smelled like fish- my father owned a fishing boat, and my mother helped clean the day’s haul to be sent to the Capitol. The smell would seep into our clothes and hair and lungs. It was inescapable.

A few more breaths, and another smell is hitting me full on; the sweet, salty scent of the ocean. It clears my head a little bit. My heart rate slows a little. I’m still here. The odds are still in my favor. Two slips. I don’t have a chance of getting chosen…right?

There’s no way I’m getting back to sleep now. Silently, I slip out of bed and pull on some shorts. Sitting in the silent house won’t calm my nerves. I need to get out, stretch my legs. The salty sea air is calling to me. In seconds, I’m down the stairs and in the kitchen, grabbing a slice of bread, then out the back door.

The village is deserted, and unusual thing for this time of morning. I’m usually up this early, helping my father get the boat ready. The village is usually swarming with the early risers, the other boatmen, and those preparing to open their stalls early for the crowds of Capitol-enslaved-workers who will be heading out after the sun rises. Today, however, the village is dead. Everyone is sleeping in. No work on Reaping day.

I head for the beach. Most members of District 4 grow tired of the constant smell of seaweed and fish, grow sick of the salt water surrounding us, but not me. I love to swim. My father likes to joke that I was born in the water. My mother taught me to swim before I learned how to walk. She doesn’t swim much anymore, not since her left knee gave out; so I swim for her. The waves are always a welcoming sanctuary for me.

I meander along the beach, eating my slice of bread. The waves lap against my feet, and I want to dive right in. Instead, I head towards a tiny cove around a cliff. The small, secluded area was my favorite place to go when I wanted to be alone. Even in the semi-darkness, my feet know the way.

I collect a handful of flat stones and sit on my favorite set of rocks. The sun breaks over the horizon, its fiery rays reflecting over the glassy surface. I chuck the stones into the water, one by one, and watch them skip across the surface, before sinking and vanishing. After a few minutes, I stand up and dive below the cold surface, following the stones’ trajectory to sandy ocean bottom.

The world is quiet down here, surrounded by the kelp and fish. The water is the only thing I know. I float along, my mind finally clear. I let myself sink so I’m sitting on the bottom. The world below is murky and dark. Seaweed twists around my body, and I watch little silver fish dart around me, accepting my presence. I’m calmed by it. I stay there until my oxygen runs out, and then reluctantly return to the real world.

“YOU THERE! STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING!” I wipe the saltwater out of my eyes and turn towards shore, trying to see who’s yelling. Nobody is ever awake this early, not on Reaping day.

“What you’re doing is breaking the law, do you hear me?” It’s Kione Fleeman, one of the Peacekeepers, I recognize his voice now…but breaking the law? All I was doing was swimming. Then again, I had never been caught. I sink down, about to dive under the surface again, and then I realize Kione isn’t even looking at me. He’s looking at something further down the shore. I squint through the glare of the dawn light. A person is huddled over in the sand- that must be who Kione is yelling at. I sink lower in the water, trying to remain unseen, just in case I’m still breaking some new law.

Kione strides forward and grabs whoever it is by the wrist. I can make out long hair- it must be a girl. I paddle closer, trying to hear what he’s saying.

“You know it’s against the law to go fishing outside of the designated hours. This is a form of stealing! Do you know how we punish that?” I can’t hear the girl’s answer, but whatever it is infuriates Kione. He yanks the girl upright. Her hair falls away, and I catch glimpse of her pale, terrified face. It takes me a moment to recall her name- it’s Annie. Annie Cresta. She’s close to three years younger than me, but I’ve seen her in the marketplace with her father, who makes fishing poles.

Kione brings out his club and strikes Annie. She crumples onto the sand, and he raises his club as second time. I can’t watch this. Annie is so tiny and frail, one more blow like that could kill her. I can’t witness anymore despair on a day like today. “STOP!” I cry out, then cut through the water towards the shore. Kione is startled, clearly not expecting anybody else to be around this early. He’s lowered his club slightly, searching for me.

I reach shallow waters and stand up straight. Kione usually has patrol near the docks, so he’s familiar with both my father and me. I’m hoping this will give me an advantage. “She wasn’t fishing,” I tell him, looking him straight in the eye. I can see his brow wrinkle up. He doesn’t believe me. I need to act fast.

“I asked Annie to meet me here. She’s the weakest swimmer in the District.” This wasn’t a lie- she’d often been talk of the village, being the daughter of the man who makes fishing poles and not swimming at all. Kione continues to grip his club, so I press on. “It’s reaping day, and it’s early, so I figured there was no chance at all of people being able to watch her. I was going to teach her.” I grin at him, trying to smooth it all over.

Kione nods. “You are the best swimmer in the District, Finnick. However, I found this fishing line with her” He holds it out. I need to think absolutely fast. I take the line from Kione and give it a sharp tug. “But you see, this isn’t just any fishing wire. This is the strongest fishing wire in her father’s shop. I’ve watched my father catch very big fish with this, and it won’t snap. I asked her to bring some with her.” I return the wire to Kione, and close his hand around it. “As a lifeline, you see. She’s terrified of the water.”

“I am,” says a soft voice. Annie has come around during the course of our conversation. She’s absolutely white. Her wide eyes lock onto mine, and instinctively, I reach forward to help her up. I throw another smile at Kione. “I’m going out with my father tomorrow morning- if the odds are in my favor- how about two fish find their way to your table without reaching the record books?”

Kione bursts out laughing. “Thirteen years old and you already know how to charm.” He playfully hits my shoulder. I try not to flinch. “You are your fathers son. All right, you’ve got yourself a deal.” With that, he turns and continues down the beach. As soon as he’s out of earshot, I turn to Annie. She’s still staring at me, absolutely terrified. “Everything’s okay. If he bothers you again, tell me, okay?” She nods, wordlessly.

I kneel down so I’m at eye level with her. “Hey. Come on. Why are you so scared? Aren’t you a little too young to worry about the Reaping yet?” This gets another nod from her. “My birthday isn’t until next week,” she whispers. “I’ll be eleven.”

“Then come on, smile a little bit.” She shakes hear head. I notice the tears forming at the corners of her eyes. “You’ve got no siblings…are you worried about your friends?” She shakes hear head again. “I just wanted to p-pr-practice…” Annie begins to cry. “I was going to throw them back!”

“Practice what, Annie? Fishing?” She nods. “Everybody at school keeps making fun of me, my father makes poles and I can’t fish…or swim…” Her voice breaks. I pat her shoulder, not quite sure what else to do. After a minute, her crying subsides a little.

“Listen, Annie, you need to practice during fishing hours so you don’t get in trouble. They won’t be nicer even though you’re young. Okay?”

“Finnick!” I look up. My father is down the beach, waving at me. I wave back. “I’m going to do some repairs on the boat before breakfast, care to help?” he calls.

“Be there in a minute!” I turn to Annie and offer her one more shoulder pat. “Don’t swim unless there’s somebody else around. You’re tiny, we don’t want you getting swept away!” I grin down at her, and with that, I run off down the beach to join my father.