It was complete chaos. Screams broke out, cameras were quickly turned away, and people looked around in
alarm and panic. It was almost funny how the Capitol people ran around with their ridiculous shades of hair. A
woman with high purple hair and blue-tinged skin fainted on the spot. Another man with a violent blue fuzz
tripped over the camera equipment. I would have laughed if the situation wasn't so alarming. Snow grabbed at
me to stop me from saying more. He slapped me hard, but the pain only brought me more into focus.
Halfway through my speech, I had cut my finger on the paper. The sharp sting triggered the memory of my leg in
the cave. It wasn't the same type of throbbing, but it was close enough. Katniss. I had flung the papers away and
tried to warn her. The Capitol would attack them soon. Snow had told me they were planning an air attack on the
rebelling District. It was his biggest mistake of the day. Before I could tell her I loved her, a madhouse broke out.
It was all worth it though. I may have saved her. And I found how to fight the lies. Snow's slap still stung and it
was starting to turn an ugly shade of purple. I touched the bruise on my cheek causing it to sting even more. Pain
was the key to the problem. It brought me back into the sharpness of reality. Somehow, it triggered my memories
of the cave with Katniss. I remembered the pain of my leg, but most of all, I remembered her gentle touch. Now I
knew how to fight, but the only problem was remembering how. I knew Snow would only torture me with the lies
again and worse than ever.
Snow was dragging me by my collar, making it difficult to breathe. The fabric of my shirt started to tear as I
struggled to stand up so I wouldn't be suffocated. I was hurled into the white room and the door was slammed
shut. Desperately, I tried the handle, but of course, it was locked. It was useless trying to find a way out. The
white walls held no weakness that I might have taken advantage on. Only a tiny murmur of sound could be heard
struggling through the tiniest crack in the door.
The bruise on my cheek was swelling painfully. My heart was skipping beats from the rush of adrenaline that was
pumping through my body. For the first time in a long while, I felt completely in focus. Everything was unusually
sharp and the gears in my brain were whirling at top speed. It was a feeling I didn't want to let go of. I felt the
same way when Katniss first kissed me. The same heart beat that skipped out of control, the same type of
elation. A swell of emotion came upon me as remembered her. I feverishly hoped my warning was not in vain.
Maybe she had heard me and maybe she would be safe. Snow could punish me all he wanted to now. As long as
I could die knowing I did something to help. If I were to die, I wanted to die being me. I want to let them know
that they didn't own me.
I sat on the bed staring at the cut. Slowly, I squeezed out a drop of blood, letting a small red tear fall and
watched as it dyed the sheet red; a splash of color in a canvas of white. The blood spread like a flower,
blossoming from nothing. Using my fingernail, I deepened the cut. Gasping from pain, I dug even deeper. More
blood came forth and I started to create from this new paint source I had now created a red mockingjay on the
sheets. I let the wings fan out as if it were flying far away to freedom. Soon, my finger was throbbing from the
loss of blood, but I looked at my work and knew that the pain was worth it. My red blood made the mockingjay
look as if it were on fire. The Girl on Fire I thought to myself. Oh how I loved her.
