𝔐𝔞𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔢

(Gale hawthorne x female OC)

From her earliest childhood, Eyleen Milrow had lived with her feet in the sand.

As far back as she could remember, she had always been fortunate enough to live by the sea. Her father would take her there whenever he could, she would gather the prettiest seashells she could find and bring them home to her mother, who stayed behind to care for her younger siblings, Dory and Nyle, a pair of twins.

Their lives had always been happy. Unlike those living in the poorer districts, they had never gone hungry. District Four had always been one of the wealthiest districts, and fishing provided an abundance of resources.

Eyleen's mother worked from home, like most women in Four. They knitted, repaired nets, and mended the fishermen's clothing, an essential job in a district whose entire existence revolved around the sea. She was a remarkably gentle woman, with long blonde hair, pale skin, and a beauty that could have made anyone jealous. She had always belonged to one of the district's wealthiest families. Her parents worked directly for the mayor, and her great-grandfather had once served as mayor himself.

When Eyleen was around ten years old, her mother had assured her that she would never need to take tesserae to help feed the family. And Eyleen had believed her. Her father, meanwhile, was a fisherman. He was a loving father, though he spent most of his life at sea. Eyleen had never resented him for missing birthdays or the annual school celebrations for her younger siblings. Never. He brought home money, food, and above all, security for his family. And security was something no one could afford to lose in a district.

In recent years, however, the Milrows' lives had changed dramatically.

When Eyleen was thirteen, just two weeks after surviving her second Reaping, the fish began to disappear from District Four's markets. Fishermen were forced to venture farther into increasingly dangerous waters. A period of severe scarcity struck the district. Then came the sickness. It spread through contaminated fish that many residents had unknowingly eaten. The Milrow children escaped it entirely.

Their mother, Allia, did not. At first, she complained only of strange dizziness. Then red patches appeared across her skin. She insisted it was nothing serious, unwilling to worry her children. Until the fever stole her beauty. Then her joy. And not long after, her life.

Their father did not return home until a week later. When he learned that his wife was dead, he collapsed beneath a grief so overwhelming that he could barely leave the house. He had loved Allia more than he had ever loved anyone. Her death broke something inside him. District Four's close relationship with the Capitol often resulted in the circulation of substances that were not entirely legal. Kaloi Milrow turned to morphling.

And from that day on, life was never the same. Their father no longer provided for them. In truth, he no longer fished.

He no longer did much of anything. Eyleen often thought he remained alive only for the sake of his children, as little more than a ghost haunting the home they once shared. Had he been alone, he would have joined Allia long ago. His grief was simply too great. Now the twins' survival rested in the hands of a teenage girl. Eyleen fished, traded, and did everything she could to keep her family alive.

They still lived near the sea. But their house was much smaller. Sunlight shone through gaps in the roof, and rain slipped through the walls whenever storms rolled in. A single strong gust of wind could throw the entire place into chaos. But they had no choice except to make do.

"Dory, eat your bread and stop bothering your brother," Eyleen called from the other side of the tiny house as she tied her shoes. "You're going to be late for school."

Seaweed bread was a District Four specialty, a delicious bread that most residents knew how to make.

Allia baked them perfectly. A few years before her death, she had passed the recipe on to Eyleen. Nowadays, bread made up the bulk of the Milrows' meals, though it was often stale and poorly made.

"You should see your face," Dory laughed from across the room while her brother struggled to bite into the loaf Eyleen had baked a few hours earlier. "You really have no strength."

Nyle shot her a dark look and stuck out his tongue. "If that's how it's going to be, I'll eat it all by myself."

"You'd better share unless you want me to tackle you and steal it."

The boy held out the bread. "Fine. Go ahead. Try taking a bite if you think you're stronger than everyone else."

Before Dory could grab it, another hand snatched the loaf away.

"You two should stop fighting and eat," Eyleen said. She tried pulling the bread apart so each of them could have half.

"You're exaggerating. It isn't that bad." The bread refused to break. Just like before.

"You should hit it against the table," Dory suggested with a teasing grin. "Maybe it'll finally crack."

"Even if we somehow managed to cut it, it'd still be impossible to eat," Nyle added. "We'd break a tooth for sure."

Eyleen sighed, though a smile tugged at her lips. "You little brats. I feed you and this is how you thank me?"

"Leen, you've been making bread every week for over three years," Nyle said, grinning. "And I don't think I've ever eaten a successful one."

"We can't deny it anymore." Nyle added

"You're a terrible cook."

Eyleen ruffled her brother's hair.

"Well, you're lucky." She pulled three fresh bread from the pocket of her dress. "I managed to get these this morning. They were about to be thrown into the water."

Dory's eyes immediately lit up. She wouldn't have to eat her sister's questionable cooking. "Really?"

Her smile spread across her entire face. "You're the best, Leen."

"I know." She smiled back at them, handing each of them a seaweed loaf that would make up their meal for the day.

"Come on, hurry up. You can eat it on the way to school."

The annual Reaping would take place tomorrow morning, and Eyleen had long since stopped counting how many slips bore her name. She was seventeen years old. Only two more Reapings stood between her and safety, but that safety would be short-lived. The Sixty-ninth Hunger Games would be Dory and Nyle's first Games.

Eyleen knew it. She had always tried to prepare herself for it, and yet the moment was so close now that she hadn't slept properly in nearly two months. Her father seemed aware of it too, despite the constant haze he lived in. Eyleen could hear him crying behind his bedroom door whenever she brought him something to eat or drink. He no longer even had the strength to look his children in the eye, and the moments when he joined them for even the semblance of a meal had become increasingly rare.

School was mandatory in District Four, at least for younger children. Once they reached adolescence, some were forced to work alongside their parents, or sometimes in their place.

Eyleen knew how fortunate they were. Being a child from Four was far from the worst situation in Panem. Difficult, certainly, but much safer than in Twelve, where children could end up working in the mines before they were even grown.

Here, they had access to a good education. Most of the population could read and write, and some, the wealthiest among them, were even allowed access to training centers. Career tributes were a blessing for those who had never held a weapon in their lives. Volunteers were seen as heroes, for their strength, their courage, but most of all because they were considered saviors. When a seventeen-year-old Career stepped forward with a smile and volunteered, they gave another year of life to the younger and weaker children who would never stand a chance of surviving in an arena.

The Milrow children could have become Careers. They could have been trained from a young age. That might have been their destiny, if Allia had not died from her illness and if their father had not given up on life.

The training center, illegal but barely discouraged, never allowed information about potential tributes to escape its walls. Who knew whether the Sixty-nineth Hunger Games would see volunteers this year ?

Eyleen tried not to think about it as she walked through the district's deserted streets. Everyone was already at work. The twins had both been dropped off at school. Eyleen herself hadn't attended regularly in a long time. She much preferred spending her days with her friends and making sure there would be dinner on the table. Lost in thought, a noise behind her pulled her from her trance.

Silas Tidewell had arrived.

That handsome boy with golden curls illuminated by the first rays of morning sunlight. He was everything to her. A second family. Her best friend. And, in a way, her boyfriend. The love of her life. A smile immediately stretched across her lips when her eyes met his.

"Hey, Leen," he said cheerfully before pulling her into his broad embrace.

"Hi, Silas," Eyleen replied from within the hug.

They didn't need to speak. Both of them knew this embrace was necessary. Tomorrow would be torture. Another year added to the count.

As she pulled away, Silas gave her a look full of sympathy. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

"Not any more than you did, I imagine."

She forced a smile. "You look awful."

"I'll return the compliment." He draped an arm over her shoulders as they continued toward the beach.

Silas Tidewell was nineteen, two years older than Eyleen. They had known each other forever, and his presence was like a lighthouse in the endless night Panem imposed upon them.

"Alden is incredibly anxious about tomorrow." The young man's voice interrupted the long silence between them. "He won't stop crying."

"I wish none of them had to go through this," Eyleen replied.

Alden had just turned twelve. He was particularly small compared to his older brother's imposing build. Any stranger would have guessed he was nine or ten at most. And yet his name would be entered into the Sixty-Ninth Hunger Games.

Only once among thousands, certainly.

But it was still a chance to be thrown into a cage full of lions.

Their feet sank into the sand as they walked, both weighed down by anxiety.

Eyleen stepped away from him, slipped off her shoes, and walked toward the sea.

Silas's gaze remained fixed on the ocean ahead, lost in thought.

Eyleen had only seen him like this a handful of times. He looked frightened.

The Tidewell brothers were orphans. Their parents had died during the same epidemic that had ravaged the district years before. Alden was all Silas had left.

The thought of seeing him in those Games was unbearable. Eyleen turned toward him and held out her hand.

"Don't worry, Silas. His name is only in there once." She smiled. "The Careers look pretty fierce this year. We'll probably have volunteers."

"I know." He took her hand. "I love you, Leen."

"Me too." She squeezed his hand gently. "What if we get to work?"

Eyleen began collecting the small fish trapped inside the nets they had set a few days earlier. She would have liked to gather a few seashells as well, her siblings loved them, but apparently someone had gotten there first. The beach was almost empty.

Meanwhile, Silas stood with a harpoon, trying to make a decent catch. Ideally, they would have one or two fish to sell. During Reaping season, the people living farther from the sea allowed themselves more refined meals, more expensive meals. It was an opportunity they couldn't afford to miss.

Eyleen straightened up, her bucket now filled with tiny fish no larger than anchovies, and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. It was hot. The sunlight reflected off the water and dazzled her eyes. "You and Al could come over for dinner tonight. My father probably won't even notice, and the twins would be happy to see you."

Silas looked up and gave her a gentle smile. "Are you planning on making bread?"

Eyleen's grin widened. "I could."

The boy's smile grew even wider. "In that case, I'm afraid I'll have to  decline your invitation."

Eyleen dipped her hand into the water, grabbed a strand of seaweed, and threw it straight at his head. It immediately tangled itself in his blond curls.

"You're exaggerating, it's not that bad."

Their laughter, as they continued tossing seaweed at each other, almost made them forget about the Reaping.

Silas's smile faded when a group of teenagers passed farther down the beach.

There were four of them, tall ; Athletic. They were Careers.

One of them carried a trident. They needed to feed themselves too, Eyleen thought. They all looked so peaceful, as if none of this would happen tomorrow, as if two children weren't about to be condemned to death once again.

Eyleen looked at Silas, whose smile had fallen as well. "They're going to volunteer, aren't they?"

He gave her a gentle smile, tearing his gaze away from the four other teenagers. "I'm sure of it."

"Then we have nothing to worry about." Eyleen pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Let's go."

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The rest of the day passed without incident. Neither of the teenagers bothered setting foot in school. Their priorities lay elsewhere. After fishing, they headed to the isolated warehouse that served as a trading post.

Everyone there knew that life in the districts was no easy thing. People survived however they could, legally or otherwise. When poverty becomes extreme, rules become a very thin barrier, one that is easily crossed. Even the Peacekeepers came there, and in over seventeen years, Eyleen had never once seen one of them reprimand the people of Four for trading behind Panem's back.

The day was pleasant, and a light sea breeze made the weather even more enjoyable. Under different circumstances, Eyleen would have spent the day smiling, breathing in the sweet scent of spring flowers.

She probably would have taken the time to swim in the sea, playing with Silas and the other friends she had at school.

But unfortunately, on the eve of the Reaping, a strange atmosphere always hung over the districts, and all of her friends were busy taking care of their own families.

When the town hall clock began to ring, accompanied by the soft cries of the seagulls along the shore, Silas and Eyleen brought their workday to an end and headed home, where the children were probably already waiting, having finished school nearly an hour earlier.

Along the way, the young man stopped in front of a small house tucked away near the rocks and went inside, leaving Eyleen alone in the street for a few short minutes.

He returned with his younger brother, Alden, whose face immediately lit up when his eyes met Eyleen's.

He looked exactly like his older brother. The same wild curls. The same freckles.

But most of all, the same blue eyes that seemed to mirror the ocean surrounding them.

Eyleen adored that child, and for as long as he could remember, she had always been his brother's girlfriend, making her something of a second family member.

"Hey, I'm happy to see you."

He smiled at her, a smile that, according to Silas, had become rare these past few days. She ruffled his hair and smiled back.

"I'm happy to see you too, kid."

After crossing the short distance between the two houses, Eyleen took a deep breath, enjoying the brief moment of peace before placing her hand on the front door handle.

The moment she stepped inside, Nyle threw himself at her and wrapped his arms around her, without even noticing the bucket full of small fish meant for dinner. The boy wasn't very tall, though that was probably a family trait.

As for Dory, she didn't even bother greeting her older sister and instead headed straight for the Milrows' guests.

The two older teenagers suspected that Dory had a crush on Alden, watching her every move whenever they were together. Eyleen's smile widened as she listened to the conversation behind her, freeing herself from her brother's embrace.

Dory seemed eager to make a good impression when she spoke to Alden, her cheeks instantly turning pink.

"Let me take that for you, Al." She flashed him a wide smile, causing him to lower his eyes, apparently just as captivated by the little girl's charm.

"Thanks... that's nice of you," he replied softly, handing her his cardigan, probably stitched together from scraps of fishing net.

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Eyleen was in the room that served as their kitchen when the arms of the blond-haired teenager wrapped around her waist, his head resting in the crook of her neck.

Silas let out a small sigh. "You smell like fish."

"Are you sure that's not coming from you?" Eyleen laughed. He had a way of making her smile even during the worst moments. He was her anchor. She could never survive without him.

"Leen!" her younger sister shouted from her bedroom.

"Nyle took my stuff again!" Eyleen smiled wearily.

"Figure it out yourselves."

Silas stepped forward and took the knife from Eyleen's hands. "I'll prepare the fish, if that's alright with you. You can go check on the kids."

The evening seemed to last only a few minutes. The smiles were genuine, the conversations so natural that they almost made them forget about the Reaping. Everything felt perfect. A dysfunctional family, perhaps, but one that reflected the love they had for one another. Eyleen wished the evening would never come to an end.

And yet, all three children were already asleep in their rooms, with a mattress laid out on the floor for the youngest Tidewell.

"Thank you for staying." Eyleen sat down on her bed and braided her long brown hair. She smiled at Silas, who was already lying beneath the blankets, shirtless, ready to sleep. Silas sat up and pressed a kiss to her forehead before pulling her into yet another embrace. "You know we'll always be there for you."

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind Eyleen's ear. "Always."

Silence settled over the room again as they lay down beside each other. Eyleen didn't say a word, the stress twisting through every part of her body. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep that night.

"Eyleen. Look at me." She lifted her eyes to the blond boy beside her. "None of them will be chosen. I promise you."

She trusted him more than anyone else in the world. So she whispered a few words before closing her eyes, her hand tightly wrapped around his, clinging to it as though it were the smallest anchor of hope.

"I love you, Silas," she murmured softly before trying to drift off to sleep.