➳Burning Rebel

Dayelle Everdeen Mellark is thought as the rebel's little girl. Although she believes in her own path, Dayelle's future was written by being reaped in the Hunger Games making her parent's believe she was too harmless against others. What they didn't know was she could really let an arrow fly.


1. ✡

My mother, which is the Katniss Everdeen, prepares my Reaping Day outfit, as usual as every other year. She brushed my hair tangling and flipping each strand to twirl in a synchronized fishtail braid. 

"Everything will be alright." She places the mockingjay pin against my collar gracefully and reels me in for a hug. "I promise that you will come back home." My father walks through the door holding my brown, dirty bag and slammed in onto the table angrily.

"Found this in the willow tree near the Hob. Somebody had been hiding it under its roots." He shot his eyes making me burn in embarrassment and frustration. "You shouldn't run away like that. I don't want you killed by Snow. He'd make the Peacekeepers torture you, and maybe even all of us." I sat down as Mom tied the last knot in my hair.

"You can't keep trapping me in Victor's Village. I want to be free, and maybe today is the day I get reaped. And maybe-" My hands shot up stabbing the table with the butter knife in anger. My father interrupted me from my opinions before I got to my exceeding limitation. I grasped my mother's hand and started to head to the Reaping. 

"I'll meet you back at the Victor's Village, I promise I'll be waiting. For every bird I shoot I'll think of the single minutes that are passing by until you return home. I'll be watching you in the crowd, I promise."  She hugged me tightly grasping onto my braid. I stared past her shoulder spotting Peeta holding a single loaf of bread. Us three we hugged weeping in the fear and depression that may bring us. 


"Welcome, welcome." A different announcer dressed in a pastel rose dress, her hair strung up like Christmas lights, and her lips and nails both covered in purple. I oddly miss Effie, she always did not understand what I wanted to wear. "Welcome to this year's Hunger Games." I felt an icy chill that slid down my spine. My nails dug into the deepest flesh of my left arm as tears began welling up onto my eyes. "As usual, ladies first." I was at the edge of my seat crossing my toes and fingers. My heart was beating fast as the world carried on around me. She grabbed a slip and walked back to the microphone, tapped it twice, and unfolded the flip. 

"Dayelle Mellark"

Katniss dug her face into Peeta's chest allowing me to see a clear view of her tears dropping down from her chin onto the side of her neck. The announcer called me up onto the stage reaching out her hand for my waist. Was this it? Was my life over? At that moment, my heart rate slowed down at the phrase I always went by trust no one. 

"Now for the gentlemen." Again, her hand was flailing around whipping for its next victim. "Jaxe Odair." How unfortunate, the son of Finnick Odair converted to this district for a better chance of living, and look at his situation now. After a few minutes, the Peacekeepers locked us up in individual rooms to say our last words, soon enough we were dragged to the car as always. 


"I know that this is harsh for you two, and look at this! Even though it is only lasting for a little while-"  

"What do you mean. You think we're gonna die and you can go along with you lives. Listen up-" My mouth kept rolling out. Suddenly, I felt a hand clinging onto the brace of my shoulder. Jacel gave me the enough eyes. I presented him my i don't care eyes. 

"Tone, missy. I want your attitude to fade by the time we arrive at the Capitol. Control your emotions like your father, not your mother." She sighed giving me the zip it finger click. "I will go find your mentor. Stay put."

I stood there waiting and entwining my fingers while resting my onto the window. I heard a whisper of my name in the background, but I didn't care to turn my attention towards the speaker.

"Dayelle." Now I turn my head. It was Jaxe. "If anything happens in the arena, I'm happy to keep you alive." My eyebrows flinched into an unsatisfied position. "I don't want anybody who loves you to suffer a loss."

"I don't pity." I reply unhappily with my arms folded over one another. He looked at me from the chairs he sat. I let out a deep sigh, "I mean to say: no thank you. I don't any help. When I'll need one, I'll let you know." Without replying back to me, he walked away into his room which was across from mine. "I'm sorry." I said the words a little too late inside my mind. 

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