Reignition
It had been 25 years since the fall of the old regime when it happened. At the time my sister and I were both 17, although she was much closer to her 18th than I was. We came in quick succession because apparently our dad begged our mom for kids. My name is Finnick Cinna Everdeen.
Chapter 1: Celebration
There was a kind of unwritten guide in our family on naming our children. My mother and her sister were both named after types of plant, and so was my sister but not because of family tradition. We were both named to honour those who fell fighting alongside our parents, those who they still hold dear but are no longer with us. Finnick Cinna Everdeen and Primrose Rue Everdeen. My mother told us the whole story when we were old enough. Until then we looked at a book her and father had made. Each page had a picture or a sketch of someone and all the information they could remember about them. My mother would get choked up every time we came to certain people's pages; her sister Prim, her friend Finnick, her fellow tribute Rue, and her stylist Cinna. These were the people who meant and still mean the most to her and that is why we got the honour and the privilege of sharing their names. Lest we forget.
We were sat in our house in the Victor's Village watching the TV when we saw the bulletin. A woman stood outside the presidential palace in the Capitol speaking into a microphone. "We are here for the live announcement for this year's celebration of the fall of the old government." A lot had changed since then, most notably the change in president. President Paylor had handed over the presidency of Panem to someone else; President Ignatius. Not many people were that fond of him but he kept the country running smoothly. Many people suspected he was a little too fond of the old Capitol way but the regime had hardly changed from the reign of Paylor and everything seemed perfectly fine.
District 12 had been revitalised since it was bombed all those years ago. No more was it smoke and ashes, charred bodies littering the streets. We had rebuilt it. The district that was on fire had risen from the ashes. The old name of District 12 was what the Capitol named us but we kept it because it was our name and it distinguished us. The districts still had the same boundaries and the rest of them had kept their names too. We had always been District 12 and we didn't want to get rid of a name that carried so much weight. After all, everyone associated that name with the one who brought the Capitol to its knees. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark were from this district. They were the ones to lead the rebels in their revolution. She was their Mockingjay. "The starcrossed lovers of District 12" was what they were known as. My mother told me the story as we watched the videos of them, how my father had loved her since the age of 5 when he tossed the bread that he had burnt on purpose, at the expense of a beating from his mom, to the girl out in the rain, dying from starvation. She told us how the relationship between them was always in doubt because of her conflicted emotions and then when she finally did know she loved him, their relationship was virtually non-existent because of the methods used by the Capitol to hijack him and rob him of the feelings he had for her, causing him to hate her and become homicidal. We were not spared the details because everyone had a right to know the horrors that were encountered by all of those who opposed Snow and the Capitol.
The town had been rebuilt to exactly what it had been, although a lot of the inhabitants had changed. Nowadays they spent their time living easy lives since the wealth was spread out a little bit more instead of the rich Capitol inhabitants having everything and the poor families from the districts having to either hunt down their own food or starve. Although Greasy Sae had passed her place was still being run after it was taken over, although the food was made with more quality ingredients the second time around. The Hob, the place where black market trading was done had also been resurrected, although most luxury items weren't completely out of our reach anymore. We still managed to trade things there though after we came back from our hunting lessons with our mom. She would sit in a specific place each time and tell us of Gale, her friend that now lived in District 2, who she used to hunt with before she met our dad. As we sat watching TV the reporter lifted her finger to her ear and then announced that to celebrate this year's anniversary all of the inhabitants of each district were to gather in the square for a special announcement from the Capitol.
That day we all trudged down to the square to hear the announcement in our finest dress. I remember stepping into the open square and thinking of all the tragedies that had ever befallen our district. Every year for 75 years, children had been taken away from their families and forced to fight to the death for the amusement of those in the Capitol. I had inherited my mother's eyes and my father's hair but I also inherited a lot of their personalities too. We both had. We both had our mother's sense of injustice and I had to clench my fists when I thought of how the Hunger Games were a part of life back then. I thought about the day my mother and father were picked to compete in those games, how my mother sacrificed herself to save her sister, how they were both picked again for the Quarter Quell. This square held televised death lotteries for years. We had watched all the videos of our parents before, but only after they let us. It was only when we turned 16 that they allowed us to view them. We saw every kill, every interview, every tear, every kiss and every heartbreak that they went through. I understood why they didn't let us watch them until then. Even at that age it was hard to watch. We followed the other people from the district and my sister and I stood in line with everyone else. It was eerie how everyone still assumed the usual lines that they used to stand in for reapings. Then the screen flashed into life and the chiselled face of Ignatius appeared before us. "Citizens of Panem, it is now 25 years since the fall of the old regime and, just like every year, we will celebrate. This year the council and I have agreed on what it will be. We recently stumbled across a document drawn up by President Coin 25 years ago announcing a final Hunger Games, agreed upon by a majority of remaining victors. We have decided that to commemorate the victory over Snow and the old government, we will hold these games. Your district representative will now commence with the reaping. And remember, may the odds be ever in your favour." The screen goes blank and chaos ensues.