Delia stands under the rushing water, steam billowing up from the floor. Head tilted back, face turned to the cascade of heat. Though the day had just begun, the stress had already begun to lift. Drawing in a deep breath, Delia reaches for the knob and turns off the shower. This luxury could only be had for 5 minutes a day. She needs to pace herself.

Sweeping aside the linen shower curtains, Delia Lunarra puts one leg out onto the tile. As soon as contact is made, she pulls her leg back. Gingerly, she puts it back. Ice crawls slowly up her legs and paralyzes her for a moment. She chuckles, not out of humor, but at the situation in and of itself. Funny how just a touch could spark such feelings within her, could make her body react physically to something so little.

With one swift movement, Delia surrounds herself with a towel. Once dried, she dresses. Before exiting the bathroom, she glances in the mirror. Her not-yet-dry hair hangs in waves that pass her shoulders. The sunlight flooding through the window plays with her hair and leaves shadows within it. Born with dark and long eyelashes, she has no need for mascara. Her full lips laugh at lipstick. Her cheeks flood with color so often she doesn't need blush. Delia radiates with an innocent joy.

Making her way downstairs, she senses something is wrong. The TV is set to the news, blaring something she can't quite make out. "Hey Mom." "Morning Dels." The response is somber. Mrs. Lunarra usually has an upbeat attitude about her. Where did it go, wonders Delia."I think you need to see what's on TV," said Mrs. Lunarra.

Dels rounds the corner to the living room where the news is blasting. The two anchors from the Capitol are seated at a smooth table. The TV is only on when there is big news. The color in Delia's face turns to white and her stomach falls. "Citizens of Panem, we received reports this morning from District 8, where there have been uprisings against the Capitol. Buildings were torched, officials trampled and beaten, and flags burned. The united country of Panem has never seen anything like this. We hope to never see anything like this again. President Corrone has released an official statement. 'Any other districts to uprise shall be punished severely. The problem in District 8 has been handled and stopped. The Capitol is ready to take extreme measures to stop those who wish to disrupt the perfect system that Panem is based on. Know that we do not fear these rebels. They shall be overcome, and this country shall live on.' President Corrone will be holding a conference later today with the mayors of all the districts to make sure none will rebel, and that peace will persist. Long live Panem."

And with that the broadcast was over. Delia stood motionless in the living room, her mouth slightly ajar. Uprisings? In District 8? Where she lived? This was unbelievable. "Delia, are you okay?" "Yeah, I'm alright Mom. I'm just going to head out for a bit." "Be careful. Be home for lunch." Mrs. Lunarra wondered at what would make her frail daughter want to leave the house, especially after what had just happened.

Delia left the house without looking back. She needed proof that this ever happened. Yes, the Capitol had been treating the Districts unfairly these last couple of years, but not to the point or rebellions. This was unheard of.

As she made her way to the town square, she caught a glimpse of a Capitol official. He looked as if he had been beaten. No, it must be in her imagination. It was usually he who would be beating everyone else. Finally, she reached the center of the town square. A warm, yet bitter, scent wafted to her nostrils. Smoke. Pace quickening, Delia looked for something. What it was, she didn't know. She had all of the evidence she needed. Just, she couldn't believe it.

In and out, in and out. Faster, and faster. Her breath pulsing through the air, her legs smacking the rough pavement, Delia ran away from the square. She needed explanations. She needed an answer. She ran for a solid 5 minutes, not caring what direction she was headed. Out of breath but full of confusion, she stopped. Her feet had led her right to where she needed to be, the train station.

Boarding the train were several rugged looking young men along with some crazed young women. They were being ushered along into a cramped car by some Capitol officials. Thoughtless, Delia stepped toward the mass off people. They gave her little notice. One by one, they bypassed her and boarded the car. "'Scuse me sir," asked Delia. "Where are you taking all of these people? Did they participate in the rebellions? What happened?" Delia felt stupid asking the questions, but they needed to be answered.

One official risked a wary glance at her. He looked at the other officials and then back at her. He broke away from the group and came over to her. "Look, I shouldn't tell you anything. You didn't see anything, and you didn't hear anything, understood? Good. These people were those that participated in the rebellions. They are being transported to the Capitol. Word on the street is that they will be publicly executed to show what will happen if anyone else attempts this foolish act. You keep your distance. You're welcome to watch the boarding, but don't talk to any of them." Delia nodded, understanding only a little more.

She stood by and watched them one by one get on. She was amazed by how many there were. Was this organized? How many people hated the Capitol but didn't tell? As the last person boarded the train, she turned to leave. The train pulled away from the station, trying to be as stealthy as possible, to keep this secret hidden. As Delia made her way between two buildings and back to her home, and hand yanked her arm.

Before as scream could escape her lips, a tender hand covered them. She beheld the owner. It was one of the rebels. He moved his hands so he was holding hers. Who was this man? What was he doing with her?

"Shh," he whispered. The glint of mystery in his eye captivated Delia. She knew he had answers. Realizing she was staring, she blushed. She lowered her eyes, and saw that they were grasping each others hands. The sensation was like anything she had felt before. His hands were firm, but they weren't holding her there. She could leave, but she craved his warmth, his sense of recklessness. Something in her mind flipped a switch. The Capitol was evil. They made people suffer. Something made her want to be on this man's side.

All sense leaving her, she grabbed his head. Delia Lunarra would not play by the Capitol's rules. She would not let people suffer. She would do the unexpected. Lips making contact, she felt sparks. She felt something new beginning. A side of her she had never experienced had pushed its way out. His touch inspired new ideas and untouched boundaries.

Sweet little Delia, who never did anything adventurous pulled her lips away. A smirk slid across her face. The same look was mirrored on the mysterious man's face. Delia had turned into a raging wind that could not be controlled. She would change Panem. She would recreate Panem as it should be. Funny how just a touch could spark such feelings within her.

"Want to start another rebellion?"