Ember In The Flames ➳ Finnick Odair ¹ ✓

1 | The Reaping

My father was killed when I was ten. He had been working in the field when the Peacekeepers called him over and told him that he had been moved to the flour mill. I don't know what he knew, but after that, he was found dead. I have asked my mother multiple times why they would kill him, and she would never say. I knew that she knew something, but I also knew that the truth can be dangerous, that it had gotten him killed. Perhaps it was best for me not to know. Being in the dark was safer than knowing the truth. That's what my mom would say when I asked her about it. The only reason why she was still alive is my dad convinced the Peacekeepers that he never told anyone what he knew. Of course, that never stopped them from coming to our house and separating us to interview the two of us individually.

Now sitting in the chair as the sun starts to rise, I can see that she has not slept. Her dark brown hair is a mess, and she is still in the same clothes that she was in yesterday. She wore a light pink shirt that was covered in stains from the field and a pair of blue jeans that had so many holes and covered in mud. Her boots that she wears in the field sit beside her chair as if she plans to work today. I take a step closer to her, "Mom," I whisper, and she turns her head to me. I can see her green eyes try their best to hold back tears. She doesn't want to cry, not when I am around to see it. "Can't sleep?" I ask her.

I already knew the answer before I asked it. It was reaping day. Of course, she couldn't sleep, not with the possibility that I won't be here tomorrow. "No," she replies honestly, "So I made us some breakfast." She gets up off the chair and leads me into the kitchen where she has laid out a few berries from the field and a loaf of bread. It isn't much, but it's more than some people get. I feel bad for the people that have to go days without food, I mean, I'm not living in luxury, but at least I have a little bit of food every day. I guess that was the pro of living in district nine, grain. We work in the field and deliver most of it to the Capitol, but what's left of it gets divided up, and we go home with a little bit of food.

The two of us spend the next hour sitting at the table, hardly eating anything and barely talking. Both of us are nervous, but we don't want to talk about it. By now, the sun had completely risen, and soon, I would have to make the trip to the square. The square is the place where we all gather for the reaping, it is held in front of the justice building, and a couple of thousand people gather around it. Those who arrive late have to watch the reaping on the screens.

Me my mother head out of the house just as everyone else is stepping out of theirs. All of their faces held worry and fear. Everyone hated this day. But at the end of the day, it turned into a celebration for most of the families. But for at least two families, they will draw their shutters tight and wonder how they will get by the painful weeks to come.

The weather is warm out as I join a group of kids that make their way to check-in. Everyone has to attend the reaping. If they don't, it is punishable by death. You have to be dying not to attend. All of the kids have to be accounted for, and to do that, they prick our fingers and take a little bit of blood to identify us. I hardly feel the sting as I have grown numb to it. I then head off to the group of fifteen-year-olds. I smile at them, trying to offer a calming vibe, but we are all scared.

A couple of minutes later, the mayor walks onto the stage to greet us. He says the same thing every year, always ending by saying, "May the odds be ever in your favor." He then goes into the treaty of treason, the same speech every year. "War, terrible war. Widows, orphans, a motherless child. This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned on brother until nothing remained. And then came the peace, hard-fought, sorely won. The people rose up from the ashes, and a new era was born. But freedom has a cost, and the traitors were defeated. We swore as a nation we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed that each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up in tribute, one young man and woman, to fight to the death in a pageant of honor, courage, and sacrifice. The lone victor bathed in riches would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness. This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future." He finishes his speech, knowing that no one was listening, as they have all heard hundreds of times.

Mica walks on stage soon after. She is district nine's escort. It is her job to transport the tributes from here to the Capitol. She usually wears odd clothes, and today is no different. She has on a bright pink jacket and pants with fluffy boots. She wore bright pink eyeshadow and eyelashes. Her hair was a black wig that was twisted up around her head. "Welcome," she greets us as she stands up by the microphone. "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor." She speaks and then smiles out into the crowd.

The two victors that district nine has sat behind her looking just as bored as the rest of us. The only difference is that they aren't scared. They are safe from the games, they have already suffered through them. Mica speaks again, bringing my attention back to her, "Now the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and woman for the honor of representing District 9 in the 67th annual Hunger Games. As usual, lady's first." She walks over to the left side of the stage where a glass bowl sits and reaches down into it and pulls out a card. The entire audience draws in a breath as Mica walks back to the microphone. I silently pray that it isn't me.

Slowly she opens the folded paper and then looks out into the crowd to read the name. "Ember Graves."

°

°

°

°

°

°

°

Hey guys, thanks for reading! I'm am really looking forward to this story. I love Finnick so I decided to write a story about him.

So I haven't wrote in first person in a couple of years but I decided to give it a try again. Let me know what you guys think.

These chapters are going to be shorter with more chapters. That way I can get them uploaded faster, because I am really excited about this story and long chapter made me lose interest in wirting them.

This is the dress that Ember wore to the reaping. It's plain and simple but I think it suits good with her district.

Anyways, thanks for reading!