Ignition

Cinna's P. O.V.

Slowly, I opened my eyes, a shudder rippling my entire being as I looked around cautiously.

Everything was a wreck as smoke billowed around me heavily. The cold night air was slowly freezing my body as I was dragged further and further away from a place I called my home for four years, and I emitted a loud, terrified, frightened wail. My sister looked down at me, trying to shush me as she ran, myself bouncing in her arms as she struggled to get us out of the burning building. I wasn't truly aware of what was going on and what was going to happen next, but I percieved it as my older sister, Salin, taking me aware from our burning home.

Actually, that was what was going on. It petrified me, and yet it also fasinated me.

At that paticular moment, however, the petrifiction caused me to cry, gasping in unhealthy amounts of smoke as I coughed and squirmed. Salin looked back to me frantically, holding me all that tighter as she burst through a door that was catching fire, hitting the ground hard on one of her shoulders. I was jarred from her grip, rolling onto my own back as the two of us gasping for her air, lungs burning and eyes stinging from both irritation and tears.

"Mommy!" I wailed, stumbling to my own feet, only for Salin to grasp me tighter and pull me into her lap, sobbing herself now into my blonde hair.

Once I realized she was crying, I wrapped my arms around her neck slowly, letting her tears soak my soot-covered shirt and hair. Even though she was usually cold to me, I was still her number one fan, and to know she was heartbroken broke my own heart. I wondered where our father was as we held each other close, expecting him to come up and scoop her in her arms, considering she was his baby girl and youngest daughter. At the same time, I wondered why Mama wasn't coming to hold me tight and tell my stories, or maybe draw a picture with me while the fire was put out. As a four year old, I didn't understand the concept and fact that my parents were now dead, and only now do I know that Salin didn't have the heart at the time to tell me.

Even today I find myself waiting for Mama when she'll never come.

Fire is a powerful thing.

I thought this as I watched the teacher set pieces of paper on fire, demonstrating how the mines of District 12 worked. Most of we Capital children didn't give two cents what the Districts did when we had our own lifes of luxary and spoiltness. And yet I did, even as a eight year old in the classroom and actually paying attention to the teacher.

There was one other as the other children used their phones and giggled with each other, and her name was Enchant. She was a beauty with blonde hair with pink/green highlights, going down her back with her blue eyes always shining. She was wearing a white blouse and gray skirt on this paticular day with the back of said blouse forming a little tail in the back while she watched intently, leaned forward in her desk beside my own. Not only did this girl's beauty fasinate me, though, but as did her charming personality. She was soft spoken and shy, obviously more of a Peacemaker than a fighter, and she wasn't like the other Capital children; she wasn't spoiled and she was humble, even though she was very smart and incredible singer.

Her name certainly fit her: She was very enchanting.

"Cinna?" the teacher's voice was soft and exhastperated as she spoke, and I blushed, turning my attention to her. I knew she hated being a teacher when nobody else cared, so Enchant and I were the only reason she didn't quit.

I didn't want her to leave; she was so nice.

Focusing my eyes back on the demonstration, I tried not to look back over at Enchant. The fact her eyes flickered to my own while I was watching her made me blush lightly, but I knew I felt really strongly for her, even as a second grader. The other thing that I felt strongly for, though, was District 12- I found their work and lifestyles very interesting. What was even better was that Enchant liked them too.

Maybe we'll work there together one day, I thought dreamily as another paper coal caught fire.

"Gosh, Cinna! I told you to stop being late!"

Salin glared at me as she stood up, placing her hands on her thin hips. Her white hair was gathered in a messy bun, all of the tangles and split ends showing just how much the stress has been taking over her that week. Her eyes were a dull green, having lost their kiss-me, love- me kind of life in just four short years, and both of us have lost too much wieght. Unlike everyone else in the Capital, we didn't have it so easy and so luxarous- we were lucky to have a place to stay after our parents' deaths. I was only four at the time of the accident that took their lives, but my older sister was only twelve, which meant we were completely on our own. The prices are very, very high in the Capital, and she couldn't afford it, even with all the work she managed to get, so we lived in a small shack, one hidden in the inmentioned poor part of the Capital.

We were not happy there, but weren't miserable. We were simply grateful.

"I'm sorry," I aplogized to her, setting down my school bag and sitting on the edge of the dusty twin sized bed whoever previously owned the house left, "I didn't mean too."

"Whatever..." she sighed, plopping down in the wooden chair at the small card table, banging her fist on the table as her eyes went back to the bills, "damn it! At this rate, we're going to lose this place!"

Her stress and heartache once again broke my own heart. She was trying so hard to keep both of us alive and she just couldn't do it alone; it was torture to my eyes. Getting to my feet, I gently touched her shoulder, rubbing her back as she was reduced to sobs.

"I promise..." I whispered softly, taking her in my own arms for once, "I'm going to take care of you one day."

"But we need money now," she mumbled sourly, her eyes pleading as she looked to me, making me feel as I was the older brother and she was the younger.

"Right...but...but if we get on the streets, I can try to sell my art," I'd become quite good at it, and while the chances of the Capitalites throwing us a second glimspe were rather slim, there was always hope in the most hopeless situation- Mama used to say that, "we're going to get through this."

"And how do you know that?"

After a moment of silence, I replied, "Because...because I promise."

Honestly, it was luck that Salin and I made it for two years after I first made that promise to her.

In the world we lived in, an eight-year-old and a sixteen-year-old were not supposed to be able to surrvive in a situation like that. But we begged enough, I sold a few pieces of art, and we scraped by. We were hungry constantly, but in the time, we actually seemed to bond. She never wanted a little brother from the start and I knew it, but she slowly kept her bitterness to the rest of the world and confided her lonliness in me. We kept secrets in each other and stayed together most of the time, if she wasn't working or I wasn't in school.

Things took a change when I was ten, though.

It was a Friday afternoon, and the cold wind broke through my windbreaker easily as I started the jog home. We lived in a better house, one of the underated houses but filled with art splotches and decorations inwardly, and I was regaining wieght, so I naturally wasn't very fast. Another took the empty space beside me, and my heart soared when I realized it was Enchant.

"O-oh. Hi Enchant..." I spoke shyly, my cheeks heating up instantly.

"Hi Cinna," she smiled kindly, her eyes shining against the gold eyeliner on her eyes, "I couldn't help but notice something about you that's really cool."

"R-really?" you can imagine how flustered and happy was.

"Yes!" she nodded, smiling wider, "you have to do anything to be beautiful. You don't wear makeup or really glitterly clothes; you're simple. It looks really nice with all of the multicolored hair and big eyelashes everywhere else."

"Wow..." it was certainly true; maybe she thinks simple is attractive, "thank you. You are, too."

True, she had those highlights, but it was simple enough. She smiled, her golden eyeliner sparkling as she beamed at me, making my heart race all that faster.

"Here..." she pulled out a bottle of her gold eyeliner, dabbing some around my own eyes, "now you're perfect."

"Thank you..." and at that moment, my world was complete.

I'd finally done it.

After months and months of designer, drawing, sketching, submitting, crying, and going back for more, I'd finally gotten a job as a desginer in the fancier part of the Capital.

Salin was obviously thrilled herself, and me being fourteen at the time made it all that better. We moved higher in the District, and the bills became easier to pay for. Every time I saw a sign with my desgins on it, I'd feel accomplished and eager to please more, which led to me staying up many nights a week finishing another outline for a new Capitalite trend.

Things were absoutely perfect until I met President Snow himself.

"Ah, Cinna Kerklane," he rose as I entered his office, feeling even younger and smaller than the fifteen year old I was at the time, "welcome."

"Pleasure, sir," swallowing nothing in my dried throat, I shook his hand with my shaking one as he geusured for me to take a seat.

"I will not keep you long; you must have much to do to keep my Capital happy with your work," he sat up slightly straighter now, folding a few paper of my sketches in front of him, "a slight...issue has arose."

"An issue?" my eyes went wider; issues with the president weren't good issues to have.

"Slight," he repeated smoothly, looking at the papers calmly, then back to me, "my files show you as a young man from the poorer part of our city. You live with your older sister, and you fought poverty for years."

"Yes sir," I replied softly, feeling exposed and vunerable.

"That is the slight issue," he met my gaze now, "our city is known for his glory and luxirous life. If word was to get around otherwise, our reputation would be diminished. If the other Districts were to get the idea were couldn't keep everything as glorious as it seems, they will think less of our power and control, which ultaimintely provoke a rebellion."

He was intelligent, and it impressed me, but it also scared me inwardly, "So...a-am I fired?"

"No, I have no reason too when there is another option," he replied steadily, "I have sent a few Peacekeepers to retrieve your sister. You will be able to tell her farewell, because we are taking her custody for safekeeping. As long as you keep your own mouth closed and we do the same to hers, we can go able buisness and disregard your unfornunante past."

My eyes went disk, "What are you going to do to my sister?"

"She will live as a model or as a secretary, leaving it to her own choice," he rose, "she will not be allowed around you, on the other hand. There is no room for risks with her."

"What do you mean?" I knew Salin was pretty mean sometimes, but she never was one to tell off our pasts- she was embarrassed by it.

"Salin Kerklane is more powerful as she comes across to you. She has a strong spirit," he turned his back to me, staring at the gleaming beauty of the rest of the Capital, "and that is dangerous to those who have minumal knowledge and experiance. People such as herself must be contained."

That's when a Peacekeeper came in, looking grim, "Sir, she resisted. I did what I had to do."

Blood was staining his white suit, and an awful dose of reality swept over my being, nearly overwhelming me while our president replied, "I see. Mr. Kerklane, I do hope you see what I mean by containment to those with strong spirits."

"Y-yes sir," I was forcing out the words as my legs reversed my position, "may I be dismissed?"

"Have a nice day."

*Line break here*

Salin is dead.

The thought echoed in my mind for who knows how long. Of course I continued designing and published, but it was only a faint awareness that I was rising to the very top. My older sister was gone, taken away from me just like my parents- the Capitalites didn't care, and to President Snow was nowhere above killing children, more than likely the kind to kill a baby without blinking.

But it bothered me, even if she was older.

Severe depression no longer just something we learned in Health in my elementry school days. It was a part of me, and it's presense still lingers within my being today- I was shattered. The words Snow spoke of prevention for a rebellion echoed in my cold, hardened mind, giving iginition to the fire deep inside of me. But even in my broken state, I was aware I would never be able to fight- or lead, for that matter- war.

I could hardly handle one death.

Even if it was working for the people I'd grown to despise as I rose out of depression, the oppurninty to be the Head Stylist for the Hunger Games wasn't rejected.

"Good man," Seneca Crane chuckled when I accepted the offer, considering that he probably knew I wouldn't dare refuse, "now, we have a few open spots for stylists this year, so take your pick. With your exotic desgining style, however, I strongly recommend District 3."

The second I saw the open slot, I replied, "District 12."

He looked surprised, "My good man, that's not wise. I hope you realize that District 12 is the poorest outlying District in Panem."

"I do," memories of the fasination with the fire as a child- how Salin and I endured everything as a family and I fell hard for enchant- replayed in my mind as I responded, "but I still want it."

After he rolled his eyes, he reluctantly agreed.

The first thing I feel is absoute shock when I see her.

She was utterly mute and silent. Her once beautifully highlighted hair was now a bright, plain red, and her eyes were drained of life and replaced with constantly terror. Her being was hollow, empty of anything that could signal happiness ever again, and now she looked at my expectantly. The rule was that you couldn't speak to an Axox unless giving a command, but I couldn't help it.

"Enchant?" my voice shook with tears instantly.

She just nodded mutely, her eyes darting nervously to see if anyone was watching, and I moaned and told her to get a glass of water. Once she was gone, I collasped in sobs. The girl I loved more than anything was now like this...and I just wondered why.

Rebellion.

That had to be it- she had the spirit of a rebel, and this how they punished her.

She didn't deserve it.

Then and there, I decided I was going to avenge both her and Salin, and that I was going to help bring President Cornuluis Snow to his knees.

"Hi, I'm Portia," she was breathtaking in her own way, with her long eyelashes and colored hair, "I am the male tribute's main stylist."

"Pleasure to meet you," I was still quite shaken up from seeing Enchant earlier that evening, but I accepted her outstretched hand and forced a pleasent smile on my face.

She saw right through it though, "Did you see something you didn't like?"

Any words I could've said were caught in my throat. Opening up to anyone had started become something that would lead me to regret later, so I just kept silent as I pulled out a couple of designs, starting to talk about the idea I had. By the look on her face, she'd like it from the start, and her input was aleady appriecated. All I could seem to really focus on, though, it's the memory of the classroom, watching the fire dance with Enchant next to me.

Enchant was like a girl on fire...

*Line break here*

She was the bravest thing I'd ever scene.

Katniss Everdeen just volunteered for her twelve-year-old little sister for something as cruel and merciless as the Hunger Games. By her size and stature, I know that the little girl wouldn't have made it far- Primrose Everdeen. I wasnt so sure of Katniss- she looked fit and strong, but looks can always mislead. After meeting her, I formed my opinion that she was very brave all around.

But I also something else in her eyes.

It was the same hatred that shown in her eyes when Salin talked about the richer Capitalites, and the same steady promise that always held in Enchant's voice. After two of the most important people in my life had been killed for this quality, I was absoutely detirmined for the same not to happen to her. She had a fire down deep inside of her- the fire of rebellion.

And I supposed I did as well.

"So you're here to make me look pretty?"

"No, I'm here to make you unforgettable."

All the cameras were on me the second Katniss credited me for making her the Girl on Fire.

I just smiled and nodded it off. It was true I was the one who made her look spectucular, but I knew it was going to be her bravery that eventaully led to our freedom. From the moment I met her, I somehow knew that was it. It was likely the Mockingjay pin, and how it symbolized rebellion, even if she didn't know it.

She was the Mockingjay.

This suit must hold everything.

My mind was slowly beginning to numb, but my fingers were still flying and my pencils were gradually getting duller. It was going to cost quite a bit- I knew that from the start. But based on Katniss' skills, I knew she would be able to handle it and that it was going to protect her. This was her suot of war, weaved in behind all of the wedding dress designs that came from her win.

After an afterthought, I inserted the compartment for the Nighlock berry.

Just in case.

Again?

It was like President Snow, but it was also predictable. Just like he'd told me years before, he was set on extinguishing any flame of rebellion, and at this point, Katniss knew it too. Either way, I was just as set in helping her become the Mockingjay, which was my reason with the suit and setting her on fire in the first place. I always knew Snow was keeping an eye on me, and at the time, I was aware I was in as much danger as her.

But even today, I am not afraid.

I stare at the fireplace, mesmerized.

The flames fasinate me, just as fire always has. Peacekeepers have surronded me and are screaming at me, but I cannot here them, but not just because they have beaten me so hard the blood is clotting in my ears. There is nothing they can do to me at this point that will break me, though- I'm at my peak of what I will be, and I left behind things to help the Mockingjay.

All of their faces seem to dance and giggle among the flames.

Mama. Dad. Salin. Enchant. Katniss.

There was not I amounted too- this was too much for someone like me to expect. I am someone who tried to help those who were above me, and that I did to the best of my ability. Someone strikes me in the back of the head now, and my form slumps forward as my spirit begins to drift away.

The flames overwhelm me, and my soul ignites.