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Snippet #2338829

located in Panem, a part of After The Games, one of the many universes on RPG.

Panem

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Character Portrait: Max Odair
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District 4
Max Odair

Day of the Reaping


Having barely gotten any sleep last night, Max was ready to get out of bed at least an hour before he needed to. Pulling a shirt onto his bare chest, he glanced down quickly, horrors of his nightmare finding there way into his head. He shook his head quickly, getting rid of any visions of blood and disaster left in his head. Max made his way to the door, quickly stopping in his moms room first to make sure that she was still sleeping. He grabbed his trident from next to the door, closing it slowly so it didn't creak. He ran his hand through his hair, glancing out at the water that was infront of his house. He realized it was stupid to have put on a shirt, considering he was going into the water, but then decided he would just go knee deep.

Max walked to the water, loving the feeling of the sand between his toes. As he reached the water, he didn't hesitate to walk in, though he took slow, small steps, then paused, slowing his breathing. He had learned from practice that your heart beat projected through the water, and often scared fish away. He waited a few minutes, letting the ripples die down, and his heart rate slow. He opened his eyes, moving only his upper body to move the trident into place. "One... two... three," he muttered under his breath, plunging the spear into the water, and into a fish, then pulling it out of the water, the fish spoked on the middle spear. It wiggled around, throwing it's weight, but Max had lots of practice, and he held it nearly straight as he walked out of the water, back towards his house. He wasn't sure how long he had had his eyes closed for, but he was sure that since he needed to change and make food, that he needed to get back.

He tried not to look at the fish as it suffocated, dropping the trident on the counter as he entered his house, and going to his room. He could hear his mom milling about the cottage, and he said, "fish on the counter," as he reached into his closet, pulling out his suit. It was weird to see it, considering her only wore it once a year, the grey fabric ironed and pressed, the shirt beneath it the same. He changed his clothes quickly, grabbing his nice shoes and walking back into the kitchen. His mom was chopping up the fish, having already cleaned it, and she had a pan sizzling on the griddle next to her, where she was tossing pieces of fish to cook. Max grabbed two plates, cups, napkin, and sets of silverware, placing them on the small table they had, and sitting down, waiting for his mother to join him.

"Are you nervous?" she asked, flipping over the fish in the pan. Max shook his head, then remembering she was facing the other way, saying a simple "No." She nodded, turning off the stove and bringing over the pan, putting some on his plate, and a little on hers. They started eating, but it wasn't a few seconds before his mom spoke up again. "You don't need to worry. You wont get chosen." She said, meeting his eyes with hers. He nodded, looking at her, realizing that she was in her nice clothing too. "I know mom." He said, giving her a small smile, then finishing his fish, chugging his water, then standing up and clearing his plate.

[b]"We should get going."