Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or any of the characters. It is property of Suzanne Collins.

Written for Starvation Prompt: 'Dust'

Another attempt at a starvation prompt that centers around the destruction of District 12. Please review to let me know what you think. Enjoy!

We All Fall Down

Ring-a-round a rosie

My little sister's nursery rhyme that my mother used to whisper to her comes to mind as I go about my day. There is much to do at the shop today with my father wishing to train me to take over sometime in the future. A tailor's daughter should be able to mend and sew, hem and stitch, using only needle and thread. A merchant child's vocation comes from her parents.

"Sasha! Can you play with me?"

My blue eyes catch sight of my little sister Dustine., smiling toothy up at me from the other side of the counter. I drop the shirt I have been mending on the counter, knowing it is time that I took a break from the tedious task. Walking around the counter, I scoop up the little flower and set her down. She giggles as I tickle her belly playfully, her innocence breathtaking to one as jaded as I am.

"Aren't we playing now, Dusty?" I reply teasingly, loving to watch her laugh with joyful abandon. How is she able to maintain such innocence with the Third Quarter Quell in motion now? Watching our district victors Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark battle it out in the arena kills me slowly. Our brother, Kale, didn't survive his brush in the games when an ax took his head clean off several years ago. I was only 9 went this happened.

"No!" Dustine cries, pouting cutely in annoyance. "Come outside and play with me!"

I sigh, knowing father will punish me later for leaving the shop but I couldn't resist my little sister if I tried. Mother is in back, so I know someone will be here in case we have a costumer. The afternoon sun peaks through the shop windows, making me realize it would be nice to get out and let loose for once. The horror of the games has been weighing heavily on my family this year, since Kale was killed in an arena similar to this one.

"Alright. Alright. Let's go out and play." I murmur quietly, biting back a smile as she cheers in delight. I scoop her back up in my arms and head outside, determined to forget my troubles for one afternoon. My eyes squint as the sun's rays blind me momentarily, reminding me it's been days since I've been outside. Has it really been that long since I've been able to enjoy the sun and fresh air?

We head over for the green grassy field away from the Merchants quarters and the Seam. Here, anyone could play without interruption or judgment. I place Dusty on the ground, watching amused as she takes off running towards a patch of flowers I recognize as posies. The rhyme still echoes in my head as Dusty picks a bouquet to bring back to me.

A pocket full of posies

"Come Sasha! Come see!" Dusty cries, waving a hand frantically in my direction. The wind picks up the blonde locks of her hair, shifting them to cover her blue eyes as she smiles happily.

Laughter escapes me as I make my way over to her, shaking my head at the little flower. "Mother is going to be mad at you. You got dirt all over your pretty dress." I state playfully, ruffling her hair affectionately. Dustine is my entire world and I would do anything for her.

Dusty pouts, not liking my comment about mother being mad at her. "Will she forgive me if I bring her flowers?"

I nod my head, smiling lovingly down at my little flower. "I believe she will if you pick things other than posies. Mother loves flowers." I murmur, looking at the sad state the rumpled posies are in right now. It would be a miracle if they survived the trip back in the hands of a six year old.

"Okay!"

She runs off across the field towards a patch of dandelions in the distance. Shaking my head at her silliness, I kneel down in the grass. A few posies have fallen from her bouquet next to me. My fingers grasp them and quickly begin weaving a flower crown, just like the ones Kale and I used to make when I was Dustine's age.

Sitting here in the field, weaving flower crowns in the summer sun, reminds me of better times when Kale was still with us. The shop is supposed to be his responsibility to inherit, not mine. He is the one who had magic fingers, able to mend any article of clothing and stitch together any piece. I struggle to keep my stitching neat and straight when he could do it without a second thought. Kale was reaped in the 68th Hunger Games, making it halfway through before his life was stolen from him.

A sigh escapes me as the crown I made crumples to the ground, no longer holding any interest to me. What would have my life been like if Kale had never been reaped? Would I still hold the same innocence and love Dustine has for life? Looking towards the Seam, I realize how naïve and pitiful I once was. Almost sheltered in my belief that life was easy and perfect, that my big brother could protect me from everything. My eyes opened wide the way Kale was killed, showing me that even a protector could be killed by hands no older than 12.

Watching my little sister happily skip and laugh while picking flowers makes my heart constrict. Like my brother, I will do anything to protect Dustine from the harsh realities of what life in District 12 is like. Her innocence must be kept no matter the consequences to me. She means everything to me. I will be there for her until my last dying breath.

Whistling sounds interrupts my thoughts as I look up into the sunny sky. Airships from the capitol begin to gather above us, their looming presence a threat to our inner sanctuary of the field. I quickly get to my feet and begin to run towards Dusty when I hear the first explosion. The force from the blast sends me spiraling to the ground, Dustine's scream ringing in my ears.

"Sasha! Sasha!"

I scramble clumsily to my feet, pushing myself up as I take off at a mad dash towards Dustine. I grab her once I reach her, not stopping as I head back to the merchant's quarters to warn my parents of the ensuing attack. Black smoke begins to cloud my vision as I catch sight of the Hob on fire. The smoke makes me cough, a stifling feeling gripping my nerves. Dustine's screams as she struggles in my arms remind me that I must get her out of here. The nursery rhyme taunts me in my head.

Ashes! Ashes!

My feet pound on the ground, the sounds of my heavy breathing doing nothing to drown out Dustine's screams. We make it to the edge of the merchants' quarters when the next explosion blinds me. My own scream escapes my lips as I cover Dustine the best I can with my body. Heat rushes across my skin, scorching and burning my dress down my backside. A moan of pain leaves me as my skin feels like it's on fire.

Cradling Dustine in my arms, I compel myself to move and tune out her cries. People are dying around us as fire engulfs buildings and smoke seeks to suffocate anyone in its path. We are in hell as ash rains down upon us from the sky. The sun is shrouded by smoke and fire, making me question whether we will make it out of this alive.

I turn the corner of the street, spotting smoke erupting from the tailor shop where our parents were. "Mother! Fath-" My shout is cut short with the next blast, knocking me off my feet and careening my burned skin into the edge of the building. My head slams against the stone, spots seeping into my vision as I slump down. Dustine is held protectively in my arms as blood begins to trail down my neck.

Dizziness consumes me as Dustine's shrieks become static noise in the background. Burning wood falls to the ground everywhere, one piece narrowly missing crushing us. I groan in agony, my back scalded from fire and throbbing from the burns. The burnt remains of my dress are melted into the skin, irritating and stabbing at me with each movement. We are going to die.

Pushing myself to stand, I kiss the top of Dustine's ashy hair as I take her into my arms. I ignore the hot pain of my back as I take off back in the direction we came, fleeing from the burning remains of the building that was once the tailor shop. My parents' probable grave. I dodge falling burning debris as I skirt around buildings and corners. We reach the field once more, the flowers now covered by ash and burning wood from the buildings.

"Sasha! Sasha! Sasha!" Dustine cries, trying desperately to get my attention. My legs collapse underneath me as the blood loss and pain from my injuries catch up with me. I twist my body in a way that I soften the landing for Dustine, acting as a cushion. Dirt and ash dig into my burns as we hit the ground hard.

No longer having the constraint to suppress my screams, cries escape my lips as I feel the skin peel, tear, and hot blood drip from my wounds. Dustine crawls and kneels next to me, shaking my shoulder frantically as I fight to stay awake. The loss of blood and my injuries try to drag me into the calming realm of unconsciousness as I stretch out my hand to touch Dustine's cheek.

Tears leave trails down her cheeks, dirt and ash smudging her skin and torn dress. Quiet sobs escape her as she grips my hand with her little arms. "Sasha get up! Get up! Get up Sasha!" She cries despairingly, the innocence no longer present in her eyes.

With fire and smoke, ash and stone, Dustine's innocence is ripped from her before my eyes. Tears fall and streak my cheeks, a pain filled smile forming on my lips. "I can't get up my little flower. I'm sorry, Dusty." I croak quietly, the effort of using my vocal cords draining my strength.

"No! No! Don't leave Sasha!"

"I have to my little flower." I whisper, wishing I could save her the pain from watching me die. How long will she survive without me? I can no longer protect her, the responsibility ripped from me by the first explosion. "Get out of here, Dustine. Go!"

She shakes her head, stubbornness in her expression. "I am not leaving you."

I no longer possess the strength to argue as I use my reserves to force myself to sit up unsteadily. Pain rips through me as I encourage overly abused muscles and limbs to work. Dustine launches herself into my arms, nearly toppling us back over in the process. I stroke her hair, cradling her in my lap as my breaths come out in pants. "I love you Dustine."

"I love you too Sasha…" She mumbles, burying her head in my chest and clinging to the remains of my dress. I rest my chin on her head, closing my eyes and trying my best to block out the pain and screams around us. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Darkness wraps its gentle tendrils around me and pulls me under, tearing me away from Dustine and the last remnants of life. Goodbye Dustine, my little flower. My last thoughts are of the nursery rhyme's last line as death greets me as an old friend.

We all fall down.