The Forgotten Games

Chapter 1 ~ Fireflies

Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, the star-crossed lovers. What a load of bullshit.

If Katniss and Peeta are really in love, then I'm a starfish.

I look up at the stage to see last year's winners of the 74th Hunger Games. They hold each other's hands and speak of the two tributes from our District. A boy who was barely fourteen and a girl who used to help me descale fish during the busy season.

The boy died in the first two minutes, and the girl was killed by Tracker Jackers. Embarrassing.
Our most famous Victor is Finnick Odair, who almost everyone loves, and with good reason. He's kind, handsome, and hopelessly devoted to Annie Cresta, another past Victor. Other than them, we aren't known as a top power of the Hunger Games despite producing several Career Tributes every couple of years.

Nothing is more disrespectful than the speeches the Capitol writes for the Victors. I hate the Capitol for what they've done to my family, and I hate the Victors for acting like it's okay. Everyone feels the same, we've all lost so much and in the name of what? Freedom? Peace?

As Peeta speaks of how much our sacrifice helped them, his eyes scan across the crowd. I'm in the middle glancing around when, all of a sudden, our eyes meet. I've always heard that he had blue eyes, but right now, they look dark, like the ocean at night. As I look into his sunken eyes, I feel pity start to swell up. My mother used to say eyes are the windows to the soul. These windows were shattered.

I notice his fingers are shaking as they hold the cards, and then muffled applause rises and snaps me from the trance. I'm clapping and smiling without thinking.

The last thing I see is the pained smiles of Katniss and Peeta as they exit the stage and the crowd disperses. Our Reaping ceremony and speeches all take place in a large pavilion by the shore.

District 4 is one of the wealthiest and spares no expense when it comes to our buildings. The pavilion is easily a hundred square yards, with screens and banners covering the walls and ceiling.

I look down at the gray concert floor and scuff my foot across the ground. While I despise the Victory Tour, as it always feels like a slap in the face, I do enjoy the break from work.

I pull my hair into a ponytail and head back to the docks. On my walk, I think about Peeta; this was the first time I had ever seen him in person. He was taller than he seemed on TV and bigger, too, I remember hearing strength was his biggest asset, but he looked so young and scared in the Games.

I guess the Games age you because he looked less like he was eighteen and more like he was twenty-five.

Today had already started poorly as I got fish guts on my shirt in the first three minutes of work and had to wear a gray shirt from my childhood that showed more of my lower stomach than is necessary. In addition, my rubber boots were especially tight today, which made me want to scratch my skin off.

I hopped on my boat and found my friend Georgia Hayes in the cockpit, pretending to steer at the helm.

"You know, I think I'm ready for this whole pirate thing!" She says, making a hook with her finger.

"As long as you don't flip the boat, I'm fine with it."

"Really!?" She squeals in disbelief.

"No, now help me get the net strung up."

Georgia is only fifteen, making me three years her senior. Our Dads were good friends, and after mine died, hers agreed to let her become my skipper to help out. I don't know how much she helps as she actually complains, but I do like her company.

She's short and small with curly red hair and freckles making her the black sheep of the Hayes family. Most people from District 4 have Nordic and Scandinavian backgrounds making most of us blonde and large. I'm less large and more just blonde, but I can definitely haul in a net by myself, which is more than I can say for Georgia.

"How was the Tour?" She asks as we untangle the twenty-foot fish net.

I raise a brow. "It was alright, I guess. Why?"

"Was Peeta really as cute as he is on TV? Are they really in love? Did Katniss have her braid in? Ooo, did Peeta brush his hair back with his hands like he always does?" Her face was pink with excitement.

"I don't know what he does with his hair."

He did.

"Oh Cory, I can't wait until we can visit the Capital and see them!"

"I don't know why you would want to," I say, wiping my forehead.

She ignores my indifference and looks at the sky all dreamy. "When I grow up I want to be just like Katniss."

"No, you don't!" I say harsher than I mean. "The whole thing is a lie, and if you think otherwise, you're a fool. If I was ever in their position, I would kill myself before I accept what the Capital makes them do."

"Oh." She says, lowering her head.

I would apologize, but I'm not wrong. The way that people look up to Victors is sick and demented. They have the hardest life of us all, and wanting to be like them is suicide.

We finish the net in silence and motor out into the vast sea. Fishing is a lot of sitting mixed with bursts of the hardest manual labor ever.
At the end of the day, I'm so exhausted that I can barely keep my eyes open as I walk home.

Even though we are a rich District, my house is anything but luxurious. It's a small light blue row house on the shore about a twenty-minute walk from the Pier where my boat is.

On the way home, I pass Mayor Maria James' home, which is luxurious. It's a large three-story White house with large pillars in the front and black shutters. I used to date her son, so I've been in their house quite a bit, and it's an array of chandeliers, pastel carpets, and couches.

I fiddle with the keys as I open my chipped paint door. The inside of my house smells stale and salty, like the Ocean. It used to be a warm and inviting place, but now it's just me. I eat some bread that has been tinted green by seaweed and make myself some tea.

At the back of my house, there is a porch where I sit every night and look out at the Ocean. I sometimes wonder how far my boat could go. Can I make it to another place? Maybe if my family would have tried to get away, then my sister would still be here.

As the sun sets on the Ocean and the sky dims, fireflies start to land on nearby reeds and grass. I squint my eyes and imagine that Ophelia sits beside me like she used to. When we were young, we used to compete to see how many we could catch; but Mom always made us let them go. She said everything that comes from nature must go back, even eventually us. One day we would become ash and dissolve into the Ocean. I just didn't know I would be the last of my family to return to the sea.