Submarine Sam // District 4 [fin]

From birth all I ever wanted was to captain a submarine. I wanted to sink underneath the waves and watch as the fish swam by while time meant nothing to me. I suppose my goal was made easier by my living in District four, but it was never any easier to convince people that it really could happen. At eighteen I know that someone must surely believe me - I am almost an adult after all - but my over active imagination as a kid obviously has discredited me more than I thought.

I look like a lot of people. I have eyes that are the common colour of brown, though my mother says they show my expression more than anyone else's eyes that she's seen. To be truthful, they reveal almost too much of who I am and what I feel so that I can't hide myself. But I also have arms and hair and legs just like so many others. My hair is brown, a colour so common that I pass a brunette as every second person on the street or even more often. Sure the sun changes it from the dark brown it is in the winter to an almost ginger brown in the summer, I'm sure many people have hair that does that. It also curls up at the front, like a little wave about to crash on the top of my head, but that's the in style. Even if it didn't just happen it would probably be like that anyway.

And my arms, they're muscled and pretty well sculpted but they're no different from every other eighteen year old. We all train for the Games, we all gain muscle, we're all strong. My legs are the same way, my whole body really. I'm even a common height, averaging around 6' though I swear I change sometimes. I think my biology teacher told me it was something to do with my spine or something. My nose is a common shape, though to be truthful I don't see a huge difference in noses, most of them look the same to me. It works on my face, but it wasn't as though I could change it if I wanted to. And my mouth, I always hear people saying that someone's mouth is too large for them, or that their lips are plump or thin, I never understood that. My lips are my lips, and they also look just like everyone else's.

My shoulders are no different from the other boys', broader than the girls' but not like a wall. They're sturdy from my training, but they are only as muscled as my arms and legs. My waist is slightly narrower than my hips, just like other boys', but it's nothing like the thin waists of some of the girls. I wouldn't want it to be, though I do wish that my abs were a bit more developed because unlike everyone else mine are barely visible. And my joints, they aren't skinny like some, but like a lot of people they are bony and can do damage on their own if I use them right. My neck too, looks like numerous other peoples' being about the length of my hand with fingers spread while not being really thin or thick. It's clearly there, but it's not in your face - unless you just happen to be that height, then I guess it is.

My skin is the same light tan colour as all of the Caucasian people in my district, the hours in the sun tinting it from it's pale state to what most would call a "healthy glow". Honestly, I even dress like a lot of other people - t-shirt, shorts in the summer and pants in the winter, belt when I need, hoodie when it's cold unless I wear one of my more stylish jackets - except that I try to have all of my things reflect the fact that I love the sea, and that I love submarines. Somehow I manage to have waves included on just about every piece of clothing I own, and submarines on some of my t-shirts and a couple of my hoodies. To be honest with you, when I said every piece of clothing, I meant every piece - I even have a pair of boxers with yellow submarines patterned all over them.

Originally submarines were titled as U-boats - this stood for underwater boat - but it was then also called submarines which is to the same effect. Both names signify the fact that crafts like this were designed to travel completely submerged for most of their journey. My knowledge may only seem superficial at this point, but with as many books as I read while I was younger I have learned a lot about submarines, and have come to want one even more. I don't understand why people think having a submarine will be impossible for me, I have the knowledge to comprehend its operation and I know that there are submarines out there - I've seen them.

Still, no one believes me. I swear I had seen it, I'm not delusional in wanting to see one so badly that I made it up. I truly did see one, and I only wish people had looked because then they might have seen that I wasn't lying. Sure when I was younger I liked to make imaginary scenes in my head and act them out where anyone might see, but that doesn't mean I always make things up. My imagination may have been somewhat overactive, causing me to be in constant role play to describe what I was thinking, but I was a good kid - and I was always the good guy whenever there was the need arose.

From the moment I was born I loved the water, my mother went so far as to joke that I must have thought birth was a big water slide, but I suppose it's only natural for someone born into district four. Of everything to do with water I had two favorite activities. The first was swimming, something everyone I've ever met has enjoyed thoroughly which came as no surprise to my parents. What did surprise them, however, was my thrill with diving beneath the surface and holding my breath for as long as I could so I might stare at the fish and seaweed and corals until I had to surface and breath again. I trained myself to be able to hold my breath for a long time, longer than a lot of people, through practicing again and again. It got to the point where I was able to hold my breath long enough that my parents thought I was drowning, but when I demonstrated the fact that I could hold my breath as long as I could they were proud of me.

My love of submarines started as soon as I discovered what they were. One of my first books was a written version of the song "Yellow Submarine" and the thought of traveling under the waves without the need for holding my breath thrilled me. I soon began to beg my parents for books on submarines, learning everything I could about them. The same determination to own one fills me now, it's only stronger. I would love to study marine biology, more than what's required to be a responsible fishermen. I'm not that interested in fishing to be truthful, it's the studying and observing the marine life that really captures my attention. I couldn't pick a favorite fish if you asked me, though I know sharks are definitely up there, along with swordfish. The one fish I can't stand are lantern fish. They creep me out, what with their dangling light and their crazy teeth. Their faces and fins give me the jitters and I think might just  scream if I saw one. I hate them, I really do, but I don't know why. I like things other people are afraid of, but the lantern fish are just one thing I can't deal with.

Heights scare me, they have from the first time I tried looking out from the top deck of my mother's boat. Surprising that it was my mother that had the boat and not my father, but roles were always a little reversed in my house. Either way, when I look over the edge of anything more than four feet and I freeze up, backing slowly away from the edge. I've learned now to just stay away from the edges, it makes it a little easier to avoid the panic that sets in. I suppose the real truth about my fear of falling is that I'm really afraid of the landing. The falling wouldn't be so bad, it would be like swimming through air except that you're always travelling downward, it's the landing that would be the problem. I'm afraid that if I fall the contact with whatever I fall on will kill me, or at least severely injure me. It might be why I don't like heights, I'm paranoid that I'm going to fall and that I won't get up after.

I was born in District four, I still live here but it always sounds better when you say was born instead of I live in - it's past verses present tense. My parents loved me very much, and they always encouraged me in whatever I did. When I started my obsession with the ocean - not uncommon in a child from District four - they would take me to the water and teach me how to swim. As soon as they deemed me old enough my mother took me on her boat, it was deemed the Turtledove which was funny because it looked nothing like any kind of dove.

On the top deck of the boat I learned how to read the seas, how to fish with a pole or a net, how to tie myself to the boat in the event of a storm, and that I was completely afraid of heights. My mother would tut whenever I got scared and backed up, though I was never sure if it was because she was ashamed or because she pitied me. Either way I hated it, but she was still my mother so I said nothing. My father was the one who cooked and cleaned - a bit of a role reversal but it worked well for us - while I was taught by both of my parents about taking care of myself. My parents both showed me how to gut a fish, making me want to giggle as they criticized the other's technique.

It was in school that I first learned about submarines, in the younger grades we were learning to read longer phrases so they gave us all different books. Most of them had pictures that went with the words of a song. The one I was handed was "Yellow Submarine", which made me excited and happy at the same time. I enjoyed the song, once I could read it, but it was the image of the submarine that really was my favorite. Over the course of my schooling I attempted to learn everything I could about submarines, even taking out books way above my reading level to try and piece together knowledge about them. With all of this knowledge about submarines, I tried to use them for every project I was issued - this was made possible for the most part by the teacher giving me the topic related the closest to submarines.

That was the start of my nickname, but it was only mere whispers and mainly only my class that called me that. I was notorious for being able to ramble about submarines, and to manage to fit them into every project ever. The point that really made my nickname stick was something that happened only five years ago, when I was thirteen, and no one believed me when I told them, but this is how it went. I was walking along the beach, just at the edge of where the wave reached so that every so often the waves would wash around my feet and drag the sand from underneath them.

I was staring aimlessly at the endless waters, no particular spot holding my attention as the waves crashed in and crawled out. I breathed in the salt air and closed my eyes a moment before returning my gaze to the water. It was then I saw it, the glint off of the glass the only thing that would have caused me to notice it. My eyes widened and I stared open-mouthed at the thing I had always longed to see. There, not all that far out, was a periscope. The rest of the submarine rose to the surface for a moment and sat there bobbing in the small swells. I realized this was my chance to show everyone what I knew, and I raced back into the District to tell people. The list I told was long, but no one believed me, until my third grade teacher decided to walk with me to the beach and see for herself.

When we got back to the beach I lead her to the spot I had been standing at, and almost cried when I saw the submarine was gone. For all of the explanation I offered her, my old teacher didn't believe that I had seen a real submarine. She didn't say I was lying, but I knew she thought it. It didn't help when she told me it was probably a mirage, because I knew it had been real. I had heard it, and a mirage doesn't make sound. When I walked, moping, back into the District people laughed at me. The started twisting my nickname into an insult, claiming that I was crazy, or seeing things, or both. I snarled and snapped at them like a cornered animal but that only made their accusations stronger. I fled back to the beach and sat right where I had spotted the submarine from, refusing to leave even when the tide started to come in. Submarine Sam was now my permanent nickname, and I was now labeled a liar.

Still, I am now more determined than ever to prove that I can own a submarine. I just need someone to help me put one together and then I can show everyone that I really know what I'm doing. Submarine Sam is not crazy, he's simply creative and unwilling to let himself be pushed down. Just watch, everyone, I will own a submarine.

Words
91 - Introduction
635 - Appearance
800 - Personality
910 - History
2436 - Total

FC: Max Carver

Lyrics: Submarines
by The Lumineers

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