☆ CHAPTER ONE! ☆
001. A burning fire

|| THIS IS WAR ||
❝A warning to the
people, the good
and the evil,
this is war.❞

➳➳

MOST MORNINGS CONSISTED of the exact same within District Five.

The sun would rise above the horizon in the summer, but in the winter it was as if it barely rose at all as the clouds and smoke managed to blind the people to the foggy sun and white fluffy clouds. There wasn't any frost that dusted the tops of the houses, or any plants that sprouted the most beautiful winter flowers to hide the fact that most of the world was barren in the chill; the home of Panem's power was barely considered a home to most that passed by.

Instead of the grass that most of the Districts walked on, District 5 had concrete and steel. Instead of trees, they had power lines that were charred and rotting at the wooden posts and town skyscrapers that were simply power plants. The skyline was artificial, and the water was pumped into the pipes through the beautiful countryside around them that was fenced off to everyone inside- those that had grown up either in the brick filled splendor that came from making something so valuable, or in run down, tin-pot shacks that barely classed as living.

The difference was almost immeasurable, and that jump in wealth was where the Titan family was born.

In the outskirts of the town, right beside the generators that roared throughout the night as electricity was made, a small line of houses were left. Each was made with something different- the house in question that the Titan siblings used to live in was made out of some kind of metal sheets and rope instead of brick and concrete. The oldest brother- who has been there almost since he was three years old- couldn't imagine how it had kept itself up for so long through so much.

Remy Titan liked to think that the house held some kind of magic. He always used to say that it was the will of the family that kept the walls up in the winter storms and the roof from falling in on his two room house; he always said that it was the world taking pity on him and the people he was there with.

To begin with it was his mother, and then, as the years passed by and tragedy struck, it was him and his sisters.

As the winters flew by and age took over, the sisters began to realise that the house on the edge of District 5 wasn't as magical as their brother has said, and he wasn't as much of a superhero as they had first thought. The youngest sister always kind of believed that the house she had was special because of who had made it, even if it had no real working heat or water.

She believed it would always stand strong, and she was right.

Even on the eve of the last day of winter after the 74th annual Hunger Games, that tin-pot shack still stood on the outskirts of town, only now it wasn't the Titan's house, and it wasn't his sister's either.

Instead the house that the two sister's stayed in was supposedly a graveyard. To most it was a shrine to those children that had to die for another winter to come, and a prison for those that didn't quite managed to win. It was filled with ten houses lined up in a row around a center square that had one tree growing in the middle (the only tree that the District had outside the main square) even if only three of those houses were filled with people.

The first was grey, with a small garden in front of it that was manicured to perfection after so many years of being alive. The door was black, as was most of the furniture inside and the counter top on the woman's prized kitchen, but that didn't even cover half of the stuff that was packed into each cove and corner of the house. For District 5's first ever Victor, it was important to keep the house as small as it could be.

Evelyn Eaton won the 47th Hunger Games when she was sixteen, and since then she had taken up as much space as she could to try and stop the house she was in from feeling so lonely. She was alone in it- as was the man who took the house two down from her with a red door and bottles sprawled out across the cement lawn.

Alec Raymond- the most brutal 17-year-old that never actually killed- and more of an alcoholic than his only friend that lived too far away to visit.

That left the only other filled house; a house that always had it's lights on. The most infamous Victor to come out of such an industrial District that was filled with wealth and suffering, the girl that lost everything for the sake of a life, the girl that never really got over it.

Lorna Titan; the Capitol's Spark.

Me.

➳➳

The fire cracked and screamed as it sat in the middle of the living room in an ornate fireplace; one that was so large that the heat from it barely touched my fingertips that were lifted up in need of some kind of warmth. I watched as the individual flames licked at the brick that surrounded it, or the wood that was slowly becoming charred and then eventually, ash that rested between the marble ornate decoration and the equally expensive wooden floor.

I imagined that anyone who looked past the frosted over windows would think I was a statue as I sat on one of the four cushioned chairs. My hair was left in it's messy curls, and my old grey t-shirt reached to below my thighs as I sat with my hands on my knees, and my eyes trained directly at the fire. It had been hours, maybe even days, since I had watched anything other than the embers that flew from the pile of heat, and nobody seemed to care.

My sister had been taken by my old mentor when she saw me last, but since then I hadn't even tried to move off of the seat I was in.

The fire was too fascinating, as well as the sparks the flew from it.

When I watched it, I didn't see the bright orange dots that flew off of the dry wood and into the air for minutes at a time, instead to me those small dots of warmth were people. Each one was living, breathing in one large fireplace that encased them like an arena, as they danced and fought each other to be able to stay suspended in the air.

I didn't see most of the ones that fell, but I did see one that was circling a larger spark that had chased it around the back of the fire- something that I had known all too well.

Instead of the spark, I saw myself running through a desert that felt hotter than the centre of the fire with a tribute just meters behind. I was no longer in the house I lived in; District One's male tribute was chasing me with his sword raised to kill.

The fire cracked again. It was too similar to the crack of my brother's bones as Altas (the boy from One) crunched Remy's hand under his foot. The scream that rung from his lips echoed from my bookcase as the sparks I was following finally collided together; the smaller of the two curling around to hit the larger one in the back, successfully pushing it into the floor where it became another black hole on the stone.

I could see the glint of the smaller ember's dagger in the copious light- I was sure that I could see the blood spilling from Atlas' chapped lips as my only good knife sunk into the side of his neck like it was going through some fresh cake. Then, as the one spark flew out of the fireplace and onto the wooden floor, I was certain that I had seen Remy's pale face stare back at me through the glistening light.

I thought I had revisited my last fight, but the fast footsteps that filled the house moments later reminded me that I had simply been watching the fire- not another Hunger Games.

Truthfully I didn't know the difference anymore.

"Lor, Auntie Eve said we could all watch the announcement together!" Lillian called to me as she jumped onto another one of the many couches. She was gleaming as she found the remote to turn on the overly large TV, but I couldn't seem to bring my eyes away from the now dark spot on the floor.

I was sure I had seen Remy's brown eyes, I thought that perhaps I would see them again if I kept staring. Maybe then I could see him alive- see him breathe in the air that he once took for granted.

"Lorna?" Lillian called again as she slid off of her chair to grasp at my arm.

When her small fingers touched my arm I jumped out of the chair and towards the corner of the room where we kept a vase filled with fake flowers and my sister's drawings; Lillian's eyes widened to the size of planets when she saw how far I moved. My shoulders were hunched, and my collarbone protruded from my shoulder so that it looked like it was just stuck to my skin as I tried to swallow the sudden metal taste that filled the back of my throat.

Instinctively, my hand went to cover the largest scar by my abdomen as I glared down at the girl dressed in a purple day dress and pigtails, then towards my mentor as she entered the room to see why she had gasped so loudly.

"Lilly, what did I say about scaring your sister?" Evelyn scolded the girl gently as she guided her towards her seat.

It seemed that the smile on Lillian's face had been stripped off as I jumped away, or maybe it was the blank nature of my face as I watched her go without saying anything to try and cheer her up. I wanted to, but I was so sure that I had heard Remy's pained hiss as blood tumbled from his wounds and onto the crumbled desert floor that it stunned me into silence.

Remy was the one that kept my sister safe- the one that comforted her in the midst of a storm- while I made sure that he was taken care of. I hadn't been able to comfort her for a long while, and it seemed that even she had recognised that.

"No." I managed to squeeze the word out of my mouth, even if half of it seemed to be pushed out by air instead of my voice. I glanced from Evelyn, who had taken my sister into her life when I just couldn't do it, and then toward the girl that reminded me of my brother too much.

They had the same intelligent brown eyes that were filled with liquid gold, while mine had become vacant.

"It would be great to watch the announcement with Eve." I insisted quietly as I tried to smile at the girl. "You can both come and sit with me."

When I sat down again, I had lost the spot on the floor where the Spark fell between the indents of dark oak wood; Lillian barely noticed that my eyes had returned to the floor as she dragged her short legs so that she sat right beside me with her arm around mine. She was rough when she touched me, but Evelyn was gentle in comparison when she joined the other side.

I could feel her watching me, or maybe just watching the straight line that I had settled my mouth in as I tried my best to focus on the lights that flew from the screen when it came on. After a moment, she placed her own hand on my arm slowly to gain my attention, just so I could see the worry etched into her face.

I knew that look, so I pursed my lips and nodded without so much as a smile to tell her the truth. If I tried to smile, or to talk too loudly then she would know I was wrong. Then she would know I was trying too hard.

Still, she saw the way I gripped the cushions around me as the Capitol anthem rung out in the space, and as Lillian hugged the arm that she was holding to try and get me to smile. I tried as I placed my cold arm around her shoulder- something that she finally seemed to accept.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the 75th year of the Hunger Games."

Our president was joyous as he let the crowd cheer his name. His white beard was perfectly trimmed, and his hair was somehow more vibrant than the last time he was on tv, but that didn't stop me from glancing towards his pocket instead of his face. I couldn't look at it, not after everything.

"It was written in the charter of the games, that every 25 years, there would be a Quarter Quell. To keep fresh for each generation the memory of the ones that died in the uprising against the Capitol, each Quarter Quell is distinguished by games of a special significance. Now on this, the 75th anniversary of the defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third Quarter Quell."

I watched Lillian fidget in her seat beside me instead of the projection. I knew that Evelyn didn't take her eyes away from me as the screen showed just how deep the bags under my eyes were, but truly I didn't care. Not anymore, I had spent months trying to pretend it would get better; I was finally content with it staying the same just like the man on the screen said it would. He kept speaking, but as he went he seemed to be more and more smug.

"As a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, on this, the third Quarter Quell games the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each District."

For a second, Snow's words were too fast for me to take in at once. It was said so flippantly that it seemed almost impossible for it to be true, it must of been another thing I just heard. I was sure of it until I glanced towards Evelyn, who looked as pale as a ghost as her head snapped to watch the TV for the first time.

Even Lillian was transfixed- she knew what it meant if what he said was true. I knew it too. I knew what it would bring, I could already feel it rising within me as the words sunk deeper and deeper into my tired skin until it was clogged there.

The existing Victor's. That was me, and everyone else knew it.

➳➳➳➳
2652 words.

Welcome to my story!
Recently I've fallen into a hole
of Finnick and honestly there
is no way that I'm getting out
any time soon so I made
a book. Oops?

I'd also love to thank every
single person that has read,
commented, or voted for this
series to get it to this point.
It has all been so increadibly
wild for me; I hope I can
make this book good enough
for the kind words xxx