Johanna Mason was a fighter long before her Games; long before she took a discarded axe into her hands and skillfully hacked through her opponents; long before she killed 11 children to earn her place in Victor's Village. Before she was even eligible for Reaping, she was fighting. Her life shouldn't have been so bleak, but it was.

By all accounts and footage, Johanna never got along well with Panem's savior, the precious Mockingjay; most likely because Johanna saw too much of herself in –the now—Mrs. Mellark. Despite their combative demeanor, cold indifference, and selfishness, there was a major difference between the two—the final nail in the coffin of their would-be friendship. Johanna Mason lost everything both before and during the war; Katniss Mellark got to keep so much, though—in Johanna's eyes— she never appreciated any of it.

Mrs. Mason was a wonderfully kind, jovial woman and doting mother. Johanna, even at a young age, was ever the ornery, troublesome child, especially after her 13-year-old brother was reaped. She was only 6, but she understood one thing when Jem Mason never came home: The Capitol killed my brother. She never meant any harm by her comments that would eventually follow, but harm would come.

Only a year had passed since Jem died in the bloodbath at the cornucopia; grief still filled the faces of the Mason family. It was fall, only a few weeks until the next Games. Seven-year-old Johanna and her mother were walking hand-in-hand through the town square back to their home. The square was covered in posters—Games-propaganda from the Capitol. The very sight of it made Johanna's skin squirm.

"Mom…"

"Hmm?" Mrs. Mason would reply, sorrow rimming her beautiful green eyes.

"They're murderers!" Dropping her bags to the ground, leaves crunching under her unsteady strides, Johanna would run to the nearest poster and rip it to shreds.
"They murdered him. Murdered him! Why are the murdering little kids, mommy?"

Mrs. Mason took off after her daughter, squeezing her hand over her daughter's mouth. But it was too late, the words had been said, and everyone had heard. The entire square stopped and stared at the two women.

Out of nowhere, District 7's head peacekeeper stalked up on the two, still crouching on the ground with tear-filled eyes. "That is treason, Mrs. Mason."

She looked up at him with tragically fearful eyes. Her head shook almost violently as she wrapped her arms around her daughter.
"NO! NO! You can't have her! You already took my son! You can't take my daughter, too!" She shrieked through sobs.

"Now, now. Do calm down," he spoke in an evil tone. "We can…make an arrangement."

Mrs. Mason and Johanna were grabbed by the peacekeeper and forced to their feet. With his gun to Mrs. Mason's back he lead them forcefully to his house. He ordered Mrs. Mason to lock her daughter in the bathroom, then to strip.

She did as she was told. His grimy hands slinked across Mrs. Mason's nude body. She would do anything to protect Johanna, and Johanna was aware of all that was going on.

Johanna heard her mother cry out in pain as he shoved into her mother. She heard the bed shaking and her mother crying. She heard him slap her across her beautiful face, now stained in her own blood.

It was over, and Mrs. Mason came to get Johanna. The door was unlocked and Johanna ran into her mother's arms.

He again grabbed his gun, put it to the back of Mrs. Mason's head, and pulled the trigger.

Johanna's hair was stained by her mother's blood and brain matter for weeks.

It would later be ruled "non-criminal" and Mrs. Mason would go down as a traitor in the record books. Mr. Mason and Johanna knew the truth; but when dealing with a corrupt government, the truth is putty— ready to be mashed up and tugged into any form.

The tragic loss of her mother changed Johanna. She learned to stifle her comments, though she never changed her mind about the Capitol and the Games.

Johanna, as aforementioned, was always so terribly smart. After her mother's death she put her energy into three things: training, taking her mother's job at the Mason-family furniture boutique, and school. By the time she was 9, she was in a class with 13 year-olds. At the rate she was going she'd graduate by the time she was 13. She met with the principal often, trying to finish school so she could go work with her father.

She was fairly well known around District 7 because of this. She'd spend 6 hours in school, and then pull a ten hour shift at the boutique, all while managing to have top marks. The public thought she would get out of the district—maybe be a doctor for the capitol or something else smart—but they never thought she'd get out the way she did.

It was hard, but the Masons got by. Johanna would work as much as she could; taking over the job held previously by her mother. The Masons owned a small furniture boutique. Mr. Mason, a respected carpenter, would buy wholesale lumber from the various lumberjacks of their district. Cherry, maple, oak, pine—any and all kinds of wood that could be taken from rough logs to beautiful, fine crafted furniture. He'd tinker with the logs, slowly dwindling them down to small, ornate pieces of soon-to-be tables, chairs, cabinets, even the occasional mirror. Mrs. Mason would stain and sand his finished work. She'd spend her working hours meticulously sanding away all imperfections and then turn the furniture into something more—into a piece of true art. Her staining abilities were known so well, that Capitol citizens would personally request items from the Masons' shop. The other similar shops in 7 were always so jealous, for they only made things for mass production; the kind of furniture in everyone's houses. Johanna, try as she might, could never make a dark cherry stain turn our seamlessly as her mother did. She'd work her fingers raw, sanding away every imperfection, but it was never enough. A seam always shown through when the stain would seep into a small rough patch and the product would never be as good as it could have been. Capitol clients lost interest; orders slowed, but kept coming nonetheless. Johanna kept working. She worked even harder when faced with the threat of ruining the family business her father worked so hard to make succeed. They both worked, well past exhaustion.

One summer day, he just collapsed. Johanna heard the crash and rushed into the backroom. Mr. Mason was lying unconscious on the floor or his workroom. She half-drug/half-carried her father to the apothecary.

After a few days of tests, the diagnosis came back: cancer. Medicine to make him comfortable as the demon ate his body would be very expensive, but the Masons could afford it. Even if they couldn't, Johanna would find a way to ease her father's passing. She knew they couldn't take him to the Capitol for the drug therapy that might actually be able to cure him, but she knew they could at least order the medicine to take away his pain as he slowly faded into nothingness.

That was not the case. The Capitol was not keen on families of "traitors," and the Masons were no exception. Mrs. Mason's treason blacklisted the entire Mason family, preventing Johanna from offering her father any kind of peace.

Mr. Mason was a strong, proud man. For two years he held on, the last six months of which he spent confined to his bed. Johanna, only 11, was in her last year of school. He promised to make it until her graduation, but even the strongest of us eventually lose their fight.

Every night from the time he was diagnosed until the day she watched the light leave his eyes, she would read to him. She'd read stories from before the Dark Days; stories of hope and overcoming adversities. She'd promise him that one day they would pay. She'd promise to bring down the Capitol. She would promise to avenge him.

It was a Thursday morning, when he passed. He'd not been able to speak for weeks, barely clinging to life as he tried to make it to her graduation only a few months away. He rang the bell she placed by his arm for assistance. She rushed in, hiding her sorrow. She knew it was coming. She'd long lost the hope of him making it to her graduation. She wanted him to stop fighting, and to just go —into the light, where peace would overpower his pain. Johanna learned her fight from the best.

She sat at his side, holding his hand in hers. They both knew it was coming any minute now. He'd lost the ability to eat days ago and he was already so thin at that point. He was nothing; skin and bones riddled with ravenous cancer pacing through his veins. He looked up at her, the movement obviously excruciating for him.

"Jo," he croaked, his voice barely audible. "Break them. I know you can."

"I promise."

She kissed his forehead and he was gone. All his fight passed into her. She knew what she had to do. She would stop at nothing to succeed.

At 11 years-old, Johanna Mason pledged to bring down the Capitol. Now, she'd just have to wait until she found a way to intermingle with their filth and spark a revolution to bring hell to all of them.

She was fire from birth, and the more she loss, the more dangerous her flames grew.

She graduated a few months later and devoted her time to training; training for the Games. The Games would be her one chance to accomplish what she's always wanted. Winning would put her in the hands of the Capitol, where she could finally seek vengeance. Of course, this was long before she knew what it meant to be a Victor.

She couldn't let the Capitol kill her for a game, when she was so vexed to bring them down. No, she'd never let them overtake her.

A/N: I hope this doesn't confuse anyone. Chapters will alternate between Finnick's pre-Johanna life and Johanna's pre-Finnick life.
In about three more chapters they will coincide and the break between stories will basically end.

Any suggestions? Do you guys like where this is headed? Do you hate it? Let me know! :)