The Hunger Games: Let the Flames Begin

Let the Flames Begin
We've been against the Capitol from the start. Out of everyone, I think District 11 has it the hardest – and I'm not biased. Nobody will ever forget watching the death of Rue, one of our smallest but most hard-working workers, out there in the orchards. I remember the feeling of tears sliding down my cheeks as my family and I all sat, motionless in front of the television, watching Katniss Everdeen sing her to sleep that final time. Rue was my best friend. She was like a sister to me. And now she had been torn away from me by the sadistic cruelty of the Capitol. I would never let them live this down.

'What a shame we all became
Such fragile broken things
The memory remains
Just a tiny spark.'

We were inseparable. Rue and Milliena; Milliena and Rue. No second names because people from our District weren't permitted to have them. Rue shortened my name to Millie, although most of the time others called us Rue and Moo. Whatever it was we were doing, we used to do it together, from clambering up to the highest branches on the trees to get to the fruit that nobody else could get to, simply because they were too heavy for the limbs of the tree to hold them, to hopping from tree to tree as if it were nothing more than a small step through the air to get there. I still remember how Rue helped me overcome my fear of heights, whispering to me that if ever I fell it didn't matter, because the mockingjays would catch me before I hit the ground. I don't know why, but ever since then I've never been afraid. Rue was very good at lulling me into a sense of security – maybe that was why we were friends. Things were always tense at home, and I craved to feel safe. Now that Rue was gone, the icy reality of the world was beginning to consume me completely, drowning me in a nightmare I could not face. Of course, it wasn't just me who felt the pain. Everybody did, more so than they did for the other tributes from our District who always, always fell during the Hunger Games. And soon enough, when whispers of an uprising began to drift slowly but surely into our district, we leapt at the chance to help.

'I give it all my oxygen
To let the flames begin
To let the flames begin
Oh glory...'

   I'm only thirteen years old – yet somehow it was I who people looked to when it came to leading our own part of the rebellion. After all, I was the one who would have the biggest incentive to rebel against the Capitol, fuelled by the pain and grief I held deep inside of me, the emotions which played in front of my eyes every single day. Nobody came out and said I was too young to do such a thing – because after watching my best friend die on a television screen, my childhood had long since gone away. And I was ready. I was ready to lead.

'This is how we'll dance when
When they try to take us down
This is what we'll be
Oh glory.'

It started off slowly. We cut how much grain, fruit and cotton we gave to the Capitol, citing that it had been a bad harvest this year. The Peacekeepers were on our side, as they too had been moved by Rue's death (although most of us found this hard to believe and still didn't trust them regardless). Thankfully the Capitol believed our story when they came to pick up what little supplies we'd set out or them. Very little cotton clothing was made as a result, meaning that Capitol fashion was limited for that month. A visual representation of our attempt to stand against the Capitol, covered in the news on television for those triumphant few days, was all most of us needed as a form of encouragement. We cut our supplies more and more. This time, the Capitol were suspicious. The officials came, gazed up at the trees, registering the sight of the fruits at the top of the trees, the best ones which Rue and I had once picked.  
  "What about the ones up there?" One of them said, "They looked ripe enough for picking."
   I watched him move his whip readily, knowing that I would get the brunt of the punishment as it was me who had been relegated the role to lead the Capitol officials to where our gathered supplies lay, waiting to be picked up. We stood in the middle of one of the orchards, the trees towering over us as if in watch. I prepared myself for the words that I had decided to say should the officials comment on such a thing. I smiled sadly.
  "Well yes," I said, "but sadly we cannot reach them anymore. The only girl who was light enough to make it up there was brutally murdered in the last Hunger Games. You might remember her – her name was Rue."

Of course, the Capitol officials got the meaning to my words right away; it wasn't difficult. Other workers came running as they heard my screams, piercing the air and dancing hurriedly through the orchard, weaving in amongst the trees. Somehow I managed to feel their horror above the sensation of the deep little welts that were now being forced into my skin by the whips. I hadn't even been aware of falling to the floor, but all of a sudden, the brightness of the sky, partially concealed by the smoking clouds above, was bleeding into my eyes, leaving an imprint there. Another blow, this time across my face, leaving the skin around it tingling fearfully. I heard the whip move backwards, whistling through the air, but then there came another cry, and the impact I'd braced myself for never came.
  "Leave her alone!" I recognised that voice as the one that belonged to my Father. What was he doing, standing up for me? My whole body shivered with old bruises, those which had nothing to do with the fury of the Capitol. This couldn't be true. My Father had told me so many times that he didn't love me, that I was a burden on my Mother and I because I was one extra mouth to feed in the house. Yet here he was, wrestling vigorously with the man who had been whipping me for my remark.

'Somewhere weakness is our strength
And I'll die searching it for it
I can't let myself regret such selfishness

My pain and all the trouble caused
No matter how long
I believe that there's hope
Buried beneath it all, and...'

More men were joining the fight now – some other members from District 11, some who seemed to be wearing Capitol uniforms. I felt somebody lift me from the ground, but it wasn't the tender arms I'd been expecting, but a rough push to my feet, arms suddenly wrapping themselves tightly around my chest and waist and lifting me off the ground. The world spun dangerously as I felt my feet leave the floor below, the marks across my arms, neck and face burning into my blood. My strength began to evaporate from my body. I couldn't fight anymore.

'Hiding beneath it all and...'

   A huge scuffle had unfolded beneath us, men from the Capitol and District 11 alike fighting tooth and nail in what really went beyond the fight for supplies. I tried to kick angrily against my captor with whatever strength hadn't yet drained completely from my veins but it was futile; none of the kicks connected. All I had left to do was scream – and as the noise escaped from my mouth, half muffled by a sudden hand over my lips, I watched as people froze for a second, turning towards me and where I had once lay. The man holding me began to back away, before turning on the spot and sprinting straight for the lorries that were parked haphazardly on the grass a few feet away. I was still locked tightly in his arms, I couldn't get away, I was trapped.

'Growing beneath it all and...'

The man accelerated, the back of one of the lorries getting closer and closer – yet all of a sudden, we were both knocked to the ground once again, my head connecting with the ground and leaving me reeling. The arms around me slackened, allowing me to roll out of his grip. Although the world above me was whirling at an even faster pace than it had been before, although my whole body was shivering with the pain of both the whipping and the sudden contact with the ground, I was aware of my Father fighting with the man who had tried to kidnap me.

'This is how we'll dance when
When they try to take us down
This is how we'll sing it.'

Although my Father was strong, he was only a member of District 11. His limbs were made of nothing but bone, which were useless against the strong, muscular build of the men of the Capitol, who had spent their whole lives training to become officers, much stronger than all of the men of our District put together. That being said, a life climbing trees had made my father nimble, so he found it easy to dodge the attacks of the men. I watched for a while from my place on the ground as the officer slowly became more and more tired with each blow that simply just did not connect. All of a sudden, it looked as if the odds were slowly tipping in my Father's favour.

'This is how we'll stand when
When they burn our houses down
This is what will be, oh glory...'

All of a sudden, everything stopped. The officer's back was turned to me, so I couldn't see exactly what he was doing, but whatever it was, my Father was backing away, his hands raised in the air, eyes bulging.
  "The girl is ours now," I could just about make out the Officer saying, "and there is nothing you can do to stop us from taking her."
   I felt my heart thunk hard against the side of my ribcage, the words spooking it into a gallop. I couldn't go to the Capitol. They'd kill me there. Surely, they'd kill me!
  "Why?" My Father said, his voice barely a whisper all of a sudden, "What do you want her for?"
  "She will be kept in the Capitol until the next reaping. Then she shall be the female tribute from this district." I could almost hear the smile lacing the Officer's words, "You should see it as a good thing. It means that all the good little girlies from this district will be spared... for another year at least."

Father roared. The next thing I knew, the pair were on the floor, rolling over and over, whatever the Officer had been holding long since forgotten – until a sudden, loud noise shattered through the air and I felt my whole body suddenly shudder. Everything was silent for a moment, although I couldn't think why. I was suddenly aware of the fact that both my Father and the Officer were staring at me, horror written across both faces. The Officer seemed to be holding a gun. It was frozen in place, aimed at me. And that was when the reality of what had happened started to leak into my consciousness. .

'Reaching as I sink down into light...'

   I blinked, and Father was beside me. Another blink and everybody from District 11 seemed to be around me, formulating a circle, their figures creating a tunnel into the sky. Mother was suddenly on the other side of me from my Father; there were tears streaming down her face, falling onto mine, leaking into the crimson that seemed to have formed just beneath my jaw, judging by the darkness that was present on my hand when I tried to wipe the wetness away. Everybody in the district was screaming my name, although was it my name? Who was Milliena? I'd always been known as Millie, hadn't I?

  "Millie..." That was better. There was somebody there who knew my name. My eyes searched the crowd, finding her sweet little face as she drifted through the people of District 11, almost as if they weren't really there. She was exactly how I remembered her to be – and as she knelt down next to me, I couldn't help but smile, a few tears spurting out of my own eyes now.
  "It's time to come home now," she said to me, "the rebellion will be even stronger now because of you."
   I'd done my bit. I'd fuelled the anger within the people, the anger at the Capitol and at the monstrous things they had done against us, against everyone. Now, more than ever, they would be 100% dedicated to everything Katniss Everdeen and District 12 did against the Capitol – and I was proud of my district. No matter what happened, I would be proud of their part in the war, the new rebellion against President Snow. Because they would be fighting for me. Fighting in my name.

  "Are you ready for your final journey home, Millie?" said the girl.
   I took Rue's hand. "Yes."

   'This is how we'll dance when
When they try to take us down
This is how we'll sing it
This is how we'll stand when
When they burn our houses down
This is what will be, oh glory.'