Shattered (A Hunger Games Fan-fiction) (Wattys2015) (#feels)

Chapter 1

"Come on Finn, I think this should be enough for today!" My father's voice drifts towards me over the calm water of the lake. I glance back to see that he is standing near the edge with a basket full of freshly caught fish and shrimp.

I am standing in the water with my trident in one hand, enjoying the feel of the cool water and warm breeze on my skin. I only have a few more minutes till we have to go home. The few minutes I get to enjoy in the day are the ones I spend with my father, in the woods with Annie who is a great friend, or at home with my mother and little sister: Rose. Other then that, our days are spent either slaving away for a person I have yet to have the misfortune of meeting, and going to school.

My father is one of the fishermen. We all are, district four being the fishing district, but my father is one of the people who spend the entire morning and afternoon looking for sea life to kill and ship away. Us students are spared the morning hours due to the fact that we have to attend school, but in the afternoon, at recess we are made to fish in the river that is located a few miles away from the building. After school ends, and we have had a sad excuse for a meal, I join my father by the lake that he normally fishes at.

I stretch my limbs once more, and sigh before leaping out of the water, immediately missing it's cool touch.

"Remember," says my father. "If any Peacekeepers ask, you caught half of the fish and I caught the other half." I nod solemnly. This is what our life has become: a bunch of lies to protect our own skin and of those we love. We are not allowed to go to near the lakes or river unless we are old enough to fish and we cannot go near them unless it's for fishing. My father, who saw me sulking around in the house this afternoon when I came home from school, had offered to take me to the lake for a bit. He told me I could swim and enjoy the water and that he would fish for the both of us.

The lake my father is assigned to is located a few miles away from the shack. The shack is what we call our house. A few months ago, it had rained hard and lots of strong winds had followed and caused many houses in District Four to either be flooded beyond repair, or to cave in. Ours had caved in. We were all promised help with living quarters, but that help never came. Many others, who like us, were waiting to be given new houses to live in, had eventually started to help themselves. We all managed to build what we could out of what we could find: tree branches, old pieces of wood and glass, cardboard, sticks... Everyone knows these shacks won't last long either.

"How many? Weight?" A Peacekeeper demands when we hand our basket over.

My father stiffens next to me and says, " Four trouts and two salmons. Sixty kilos." The Peacekeeper nods and places the basket next to the many others that have been lined up.

We make our way home in silence, none of us in a mood to talk. I am thinking about how I'm supposed to do my homework tonight with only a few minutes of daylight left. We only had one lightbulb at home and that is in the kitchen. My father whose brows were wrinkled, a sure sign that he did not want to talk for a while, stared straight ahead in silence, never once tearing his gaze away from the Justice Building that loomed ahead of us.

We walk for miles without saying anything. After a while, my mind drifts to Annie Cresta. Somehow, I feel like I should see her. It has only been a day since we met last, but I can't help but feel that seeing her right now is important. Annie has been my friend ever since I can remember. Her casual humour and shy smile had always intrigued me and one day, I finally plucked up the courage to talk to her.

After that, we had grown close and began sharing everything with each other. My life is nothing interesting: just fourteen years spent cooped up in a place like a prisoner, not allowed to go out after seven which is after all when the moon comes out here in District Four I, at least have a family that loved me and I am thankful for that much. We lived together and have the privilege of eating a decent meal twice a day if my father manages to sneak away a few shrimps or if we are lucky, I would find a whole fish at recess and stuff it in my bag. We refuse to believe we steal food. The districts' citizens are entitled to rations of food that suffice for the entire family. The Capitol sends the rations to every district every week, or it's supposed to. Since the last few months, the rations have stopped entirely and countless people have died. Their relatives who remained could not even mourn properly: they felt like their loved ones were in a better place than them. They wished for death themselves, given the poor living conditions.