The 4th Annual Quarter Quell

Reapings ~ District 4

Naomi Waters's P.O.V.

     The warm sun rays beam down on my face. The sand crunches under by shoes. The reaping will start at sunset.

     I have been out all morning. Picking a wide variety of shellfish and catching various edible fish.

     District 4 is the last district that will have a reaping today so ours starts later, of course. I was able to watch District 1 and 2 pick their tributes, on the screens in the square. A lot of careers were gathered there, to see who their possible allies would be if they decide to volunteer today.

     I left the square and made my way down various abandoned allys so that none of the people in the crowd would see me crawling under the fence that surrounds our perimeter. I could have went down to the old dock at the beach, but fishing is illegal unless you are 18 and it is your assigned job.

     My dad used to work down at the docks with a few other older men. I remember always going there with him. The salty sea air. The greenish blue glistening waves.

     All of a sudden, he was gone. In an istant. With one breeze of salty sea air he was gone. Forever. There was an oil leak on one of the ships he was working on. One explosion later, my father went from a caring, strong man, to nothing more than a pile of ashes.

     I feel tears threatening to fill my eyes but I quickly blink them away when I hear the footsteps behind me.

     I snap my head around to find me best friend, Flinn.

     "Catch anything?" He smiles with his usual playful voice.

     "Yeah" I say.

     Damnit! My voice sounds like I was crying.

     He sits down next to me, on the nice log I stumbles across. Now his beautiful green eyes are staring into mines. The scent of fresh sea salt lingers on him.

     "The reapings start in an 2 hours. I think we should go now." I suggest.

     Luckily he doesn't argue.

     I grab my thick net, filled halfway with seafood and split it evenly between us.

     Flinn doesn't have any parents. His father died in the same incedent that killed mines and he refuses to tell me how his mother died. But at least I know he isn't alone. His aunt and uncle who live with him, are very kind people.

     I snap back to reality realizing I need to get home. I grab my small stack of throwing knives and we walk towards the small shack that is my home.

     It isn't much of a house though. It is made of old, dark panels of wood that are peeling in many areas. The three small windows are lightly cracked and disgustingly dirty. But it is home. So I have to love it.

     "See you at the reaping." He says in a more serious tone than usual.

     I walk into the usually quiet house. It is never really lively since only my mother and I live here. I believe she is currently getting dressed. I run into my small room and open my closet. I go through the assortment of hanging clothes- Skirts, dresses, shorts, shirts, pants.

     I decide on a soft burgandy dress that everyone says highlights my green eyes. Once on, it stops just above my knee. Perfect lenght in my opinion.

    I pair it with some old gladiator sandals and move on to my hair. It is a mess right now. My wavy, light brown hair is in a tangled mess. Using a brush in my drawer, I untangle every knot and manage to braid both sides down the sides of my head, forming a beautful dutch pattern. I think I'm ready.