Liberosis - The Hunger Games

01

Three years later...

Our family had settled on the land where our district once stood long before the fall of what was known as North America. We'd learnt about the land, where to fish, where to hunt, how to survive all before the Dark Days that brought us the districts. District Four had rightfully been allocated fishing and when my Great Grandfather had heard this, he jumped at the chance to go into the industry of oysters, mussels and clams.

While this concept may seem confusing for some, it's best to know about an important scientific fact that I learned from my grandfather before he died. When an irritant such as a parasite enters the shell of an oyster, mussel or clam- the shellfish's defence mechanism is more often than not to coat the irritant is a substance called nacre, this stuff builds up in layers over time and then violà, there appears a pearl.

The irritant can be artificially injected or produced naturally but the results are fairly similar, taking about three years to form. We'd been smart enough to have ongoing shipments of pearls throughout the year- but it's a long, exhausting process. Worth it at the end of the day.

Pearls have always been popular in the Capitol, that paired with the expensive shellfish they come from and the industry has earned my family a bucketload of money. We're fortunate enough to have our pearls favoured by the Capitol people, sometimes we get trainloads of tourists desiring to see how they're made. The oddly dressed people are so humorously clueless about the process, my siblings and I like to laugh at their confused comments.

Often, my father required our help around the pearl farm. The work is tedious but it's often better than going to school where the History of Panem is shoved down our throats. We're constantly manipulated into believing that Snow is the saviour of our people, that the Capitol has just reasons for sending their less fortunate citizens in to get slaughtered by the two-dozen.

It's all a load of kelp.

From such a young age we are raised like pigs for the slaughter, most of us are barely given the scraps to survive and then the hand grenade cherry on the landmine of a cake is that More than One thousand, five hundred of us are dead. In a span of sixty-seven years, The Capitol has killed so many of us for little more than entertainment value. They made me sick, they all made me sick.

My thoughts were soon interrupted by the looming figure behind me that grabbed my shoulders, shaking violently and causing me to fly off my stool in fright. After hastily brushing the matted hair from my eyes, I looked into the face of my attacker who just so happened to be my childish best friend. "Can you please find the self-control to not sneak up on me every time you visit!" I scold him, regrouping myself at the confused stares of all the workers inside the building.

"You know I can't help myself." Finnick leant his arm on my head and used it as a headrest, I smacked him on the bicep causing him to pout. Finnick had changed a lot since we were fourteen, losing the boyish charm he once had a replacing it with a confident self-assured man. He was a lot taller than me now, which he took to his advantage at any given moment. He was the talk of all of Panem with his good looks, enticing charisma and his wealthy victor status. Even from the tender age of fourteen, he had managed to capture the hearts of the Capitol audiences, even managing to be gifted with the most expensive sponsor in Hunger Games history. He was the youngest victor and arguably, the most attractive in the eyes of the people.

He may have been upgraded to celebrity status but he had made it clear that I was still his best friend. When he returned from the Capitol I leapt into his arms, refusing to leave his sight. If anything, the time apart had made us closer than ever, even with the Capitol following his every move. They thought they knew him as I did. They thought they knew his every insecurity, his every fear, pet peeve and desire.