The Rebel Victor | I [THG]

Prologue | Quinn Maverick

—— DISTRICT FOUR. The home of fishermen, the best fishing nets in all of Panem, the best beaches, and the biggest population of orphans in the entire nation. Small pox had left the likes of children like sixteen year old Quinn Maverick on her own. She once had a father who spent endless hours aboard the boats, wondering if they would bring in enough that week to set aside some money for the winter. But he always still found a way to  gift his family with small but luxurious things like a batch of cookies to make up for the batch that their mother had burnt to a crisp. Her mother had been a doctor of sorts, her hands worked well when it came to stitches or using her fingers to press gauze into deep wounds. But when it came to things like baking, she was hopeless. On top of the money Quinn's father brought in, her mother always divided the morphling she could get her hands on and sold it to those who wanted some. Whether they needed it or not, it didn't bring in much money, but it was enough to help make sure they would be comfortable during the winter months when fishing was slow. Then a few years behind Quinn, had been her sister. Then, nearly a decade before Quinn, was her brother, Quinten— a boy who had left their family to be a tribute for the sixty-fourth Hunger Games. She had been four at the time, far too young to comprehend the death he suffered.

But she hasn't been too young to witness her parents and sister fall victim to the small pox three years ago.

        Since then, Quinn had become a creature of habit as a way to survive. Spending her afternoons weaving baskets until her fingertips blistered, all so she could hopefully catch a few fish and send them for a quarter of the price at the market in Four. That was what she had to offer her new found family among the orphans in District Four. They didn't have the luxury to be shipped off to a academy where they could be trained for the games, and at least have a bed to sleep in and three meals a day. Nor did they have a chance to be adopted by some Capitol citizen. In District Four, everyone had to take care of their own— and for kids like Quinn, the children in the warehouse were her own. Everyone did their best to pitch in, some of the younger girls would sell beads made of shells at the market, a majority of the older girls would spend their nights out looking for anyone who would offer them some money, regardless of what they had to do. The younger boys would rummage through trash, and once they were old enough they'd find work and move on from the warehouse. Maybe taking one of the older girls with them and marrying them to just get them off the streets hopefully. It was just the way life was.

        Most of the time, they were left alone. But the peacekeepers in Four weren't exactly fond of having them around. Quinn had her share of scares to prove that. Some were from being picked on at school, driving her to just drop out, while others were from the rough material of a peacekeepers glove smacking her across the face.

        There was a bit of hope for them though. The younger ones particularly. Hope that came in the shape of the Victors of District Four. They were different than the facade they showed the rest of the nation. Mags Flanagan wasn't the prideful Victor the Capitol wants to see— she was sweet, kind, and extremely generous with supplies and her time. Finnick Odair wasn't the charming, love-toy that the Capitol fond over— he was kind, caring, and funny. The type of person that the kids at the warehouse liked having around. Then there was Annie Cresta, despite her sanity barely existing anymore, she took after Mags and went out of her way to help however she could.