Waves Crashing (Finnick Odair)

Observation

I must go down to the sea again,

To the lonely sea and sky.

I left my vest and socks there.

I wonder if they're dry?

S. Milligan, "Return to Sorrento (Third Class)"

The room was probably the most beautiful I had ever seen. It didn't feel as though I was on a train at all. 

Now that I was finally alone, I allowed my thoughts to wander. Was it cruel that they showered me with luxury just before sending me to my death? For some reason, I felt more offended surrounded by riches than I would were I mistreated. It made me wonder about the Capitol. Did they think that spoiling the tributes would make up for murdering us? Did they think we would be grateful?

I grimaced in disgust and anger, my despair morphing into something far more dangerous. Dangerous for me or for others, I didn't know. I just knew that the people of the Capitol were so different from those who lived in District 4. We were humans. We knew the importance of human life and bore the consequences of the losses that they inflicted. What they were wasn't human. They were sick. They had been raised on the idea that the only thing that mattered was their entertainment, even at the expense of others' lives. 

And so the beautiful room around me turned hideous, and the darkened corners seemed to echo my fears. My emotions were a mess, and my anxiety grew every second that passed by. I grew so angry and desperate that my breathing became ragged, and my heart pounded on my chest like a jackhammer. So I did the only thing that I knew to do.

I sat down, grabbed the comb that was provided on the vanity, and brushed my hair. I hummed an old folk song sung during festivals in District 4. Focusing on something always helped me feel better, especially if I could keep my hands busy. It was something that my mother had always done after a long day.

It was getting late, so I crawled into the large, plush bed, feeling a weird mix of disgust and comfort. I quickly fell asleep, my adrenaline rush finally coming to an end.

...

I woke up way before I wanted to. The sun hadn't risen, and neither had any of the other passengers on the train. 

In the quiet of the morning, I felt all of the emotions from the previous day creep in. I beat them back. If I was going to survive this, I needed to think with my head and not my heart. Emotions were a weakness, and I could not afford any weaknesses. I knew I wouldn't make it very far in the games, but I also knew that I had to make it as far as I could. I wasn't going to lay down like a dog to the Capitol's whims. I would fight to survive, even if it meant losing myself in the process.

I sat down in front of the TV, deciding to start trying to survive by gauging the competition.  I grabbed a pen and paper and turned it on.

The TV was already tuned into the Reapings. I started taking notes. 

District 1: 

Carrer district. Both volunteered. The boy is confident and leans to his right. The girl is quiet. Quiet ones are always the deadliest. She leans to her right.

District 2:

Carrer district. Both volunteered. The boy is tall and strong, and based on his stride, he is overly confident. The girl is tall, and the people around her seem to shrink away. Both lean towards their right. 

I continued like this until I had detailed notes on all of the tributes based on initial appearances. By the time I was finished, Librae was awake and monitoring me. I could feel her gaze pierce the back of my head, but  I ignored her until I was finished profiling the rest of the tributes. 

I grabbed my notes and showed Librae what I had found. As she looked over the paper, an expression of thoughtfulness was on her face. She looked up at me, her eyes glinting in what I thought was... admiration?

"You're really, really good at this!" she smiled. "You're smart, too. That's something we can work with. Good job."

I nodded in thanks, not saying a word. My time as the daughter of one of the town gossips had taught me that being quiet and observing others is the best way to learn about people. I had grown up watching the Hunger Games. I knew that it was mostly those who valued brute strength above all else that won, but every so often, intelligence would win. If I knew my opponents, I could easily overpower their brute force with a little bit of thinking.  

By the time Silas and Mr. Sea Green walked in together, Librae and I were already eating breakfast. We had already discussed how to find shelter, a weird conversation that somehow ended with a knife in the very expensive-looking table. The twins had already lectured Librae about said knife, and then we had talked about different types of arenas. 

Silas, who I glared at slightly, smiled as he sat beside me. He grabbed a biscuit off of my plate and winked at me playfully before he started to eat it. I shook my head before grabbing another biscuit, which I hoped would not also be stolen. I wasn't surprised when Silas reached over yet again to steal my food. I quickly moved it out of range before eating it myself, enjoying the look of disappointment on Silas's stupid face. 

Finnick, who I could tell was watching this exchange, glanced worriedly between us. He was stupid if he thought that our relationship was going to get in the way of Silas winning the Hunger Games. 

"So," Finnick began, I could already tell where this was going, "How do you two know each other?"

Silas, annoying as he is, ruffled my hair before answering, "I'm dating her cousin."

"Yep. And Lillian is going to be pissed that you volunteered."

"She's going to be?" he laughed, not taking any of this seriously, "She already is. You should have seen her before we got on the train."

There was an awkward silence for a few minutes afterward. Librae was plotting, Finnick was picking at his food, Silas was shoving his face full of food, and I was a silent observer as usual. 

Librae's light voice cut through the tension quickly, "Are you two close?"

Silas, being his usual blabbermouth self, couldn't help but answer the question with delight, "Dessa is like a little sister to me. I've known her since she was born. I grew up watching her."

"Even though you're only three years older than me," I mumble, not really speaking to anyone. 

Silas elbowed my side. He was always so playful, even in situations like this. But I knew him better than he knew himself, and I knew that his playfulness was just a front. He was terrified. I could see it in his eyes. He didn't take things seriously because he didn't know how to deal with reality. If he did survive the Hunger Games, there was no way he'd survive life as a victor. The games would haunt him, and he wouldn't get help for his mental state. 

I hoped, for his sake, that he would learn quickly. There was a high chance that he would be the victor this year. The people to beat were the Careers and maybe the boy from District 12. I had confidence that I could get him at least that far by helping him understand the way the other tributes ticked. As I had told myself a thousand times already, I probably wouldn't make it through the day, but maybe I could give Silas some advice to help him win. At least with him winning, I won't ever be forgotten. I knew that if I died in the games, he would never let anyone forget it. It was that thought alone that made my heart swell for my big brother. It was that thought alone that made me give up my will to live. 

Word Count: 1356