With little else to really do, Sylvia watched a lot of television, including the Hunger Games. Her first year of imprisonment saw the boy from Four win. The next year, it was the kooky girl from Six. After that, the boy from One.
And then the boy from Eleven. The girl from Nine. The girl from Four. Another girl from Seven - another win for home. Then the girl from Ten, the boy from Two and a double victory from Twelve, of all places.
She had so many new names and faces to remember: Augustus, Jupiter, Sable, Isaiah, Katniss. What they were like. How they won. It was the most intrigued she'd ever been about anything that wasn't fire. After all, there wasn't much else to do in her bedroom.
Yet she kept finding herself forgetting. Was Jupiter from One or Two? Why did Sun always wear that black cloak in her arena, and what arena did she have, again? Which one was Katniss, and which one was Peeta?
Her memories of the Victors just kept getting pushed aside by other things. Not just her usual daydreams of fire, but other stuff too.
Like how the Fire Spirit was constantly hanging over her shoulder, angrily demanding that she burn something already. He'd never gotten angry with her like that before. Only ever at the Weatherman.
Sylvia cried. She hadn't meant to anger him. She wanted to do his bidding, really she did, but she just couldn't right now. She was trapped. How could he not see that?
"Useless," he would growl at her, "are you a child of fire or not?"
"I am," Sylvia sobbed.
"You're not doing anything to convince me."
"I can't! I can't get out! They won't let me out! I don't know what to do!"
"Useless. Utterly useless."
Sylvia could only sit and wonder why so many of her loved ones had turned on her so suddenly. Her family were the ones who put her here in the first place. They wouldn't let her out, no matter how much she wailed for them to do so.
Berry, Logan and all the other Seven Victors had simply turned their backs on her. Why? Wasn't she one of them now?
But it was the Fire Spirit's newfound hatred of her that stung the most. For so long he had been her best friend, the one who was there for her when no one else was. To hear him speak that way to her just about broke her heart.
Sylvia was well and truly alone.