Finnick Odair's Story, Part 1

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Finnick Odair was a popular character in Suzanne Collins' Catching Fire and Mockingjay. I am writing these from the perspective of what his life was like before he was chosen for the 75th Quarter Quell.

**There more than likely will be spoilers for The Hunger Games trilogy. You have been warned.**

Submitted: August 19, 2012

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Submitted: August 19, 2012

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Since I’m from District Four, I have been preparing for this day as long as I can remember. When I’m not out on the fishing boats with my father, I’m training as a potential career tribute. I often hear the other fisherman that work for my father’s company talking about how this year has been generous to me. Most of them can’t believe I’m only fourteen. They say I have thelook and ability of someone several years older. All the years of training and working on my father’s boat have left me strong and skilled, mostly in wilding a trident and tying knots. Now everyone expects me to volunteer as tribute at the reaping today. I knew this day would come eventually, but I still don’t feel ready. I would never admit it, but I think this thing the Capitol calls a “game” is actually a dreadful event. Today I am going to volunteer myself for this game; I’m going to volunteer to murder twenty-three other children because I intend to be the one who wins. If I don’t volunteer, I will never be able to face my father again. He has poured money into my training, and it was decided that this year, I would offer myself as tribute. My name has been in the reaping bowl since I was twelve, but I never had a chance of winning before this year. My father says that I’m a man now, so it’s time for me to show him what I’m capable of.

Some people think he’s crazy because I’m only fourteen, but I have the strength of a man twice my age. I know I am capable of winning. I’m just not sure I have what it takes to win. I can’t imagine what it’s like to take another person’s life. I try not to think about it. After all, someone else could volunteer before I do, then I wouldn’t be a tribute this year.

I look at the sea of faces that now consume the town square as more continue to pour in. We are all in our best clothes as this is considered some sort of twisted formal event. Everyone from District Four is required to attend unless they are deathly ill. The hot sun beats down on us as I stand in the middle of all the other boys between the ages of twelve and eighteen. Injust fifteen short minutes, the reaping will begin. I can’t help but watch as the girls begin to gather. I find myself searching for her, for Annie. I know that I shouldn’t. My father would never permit me to see a girl. In his eyes, I should have been training while I was sleeping. There’s no room to be interested in a girl when you are training to be a career. Things are further complicated by the fact that she is almost two years younger than me. She is not yet thirteen, and this make it’s seem as if I am much older than her, especially given that I look as if I’m about sixteen.

Somehow though, I have found time for her. I cannot get my mind off of her. Her smile can light up a room, and her beautiful green eyes are so full of life. She is training to be a career tribute as well, but this is not where I first met her. We sell the fish from my father’s company to the market in town

that is run by her parents. I used to play with her while my father was haggling with her parents when we were children. When I started working on the boat with my father, I didn't get to see her at the market anymore. I only saw her at school or when we were training, and there was never enough time to talk to her then. Recently, my father has been sending me to sell the fish at the market. I eagerly accepted this job because I knew that I would get to see her again. The more time I spend around her, the more I think about her.

I finally spot her in the crowd of girls, her dark hair flowing past her shoulders. She is absolutely beautiful. Her name has been entered into the reaping ball this year for the first time. I know it’s unlikely that she will be chosen because there will certainly be a volunteer, but the thought of her being sent into that arena haunts my dreams.She looks in my direction and waves at me as a smile spreads on her face. I tip my head in her direction and smile back at her just as the mayor takes the stage.


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