nomi alexander | district seven | cb

NOMI ALEXANDER
DISTRICT SEVEN
EIGHTEEN

Once, hell fire was born from the finger tips of a girl who never knew she was a capable of more. Three times, they'd slapped her on the wrist without ever doing anything more, and it helped when there were rumors of who her father really was that needed to stay silent, but people still labelled her a fire bug and didn't trust her around a lighter.

The first time she had been caught, it was an accident: cigarette still lit when she tossed it on the ground of the abandoned paper mill she had discovered. No real damage, but the flames had gotten big enough that peacekeepers had to step in.

The second time, she did it out of carelessness. A huge fire she and the brother who raised her had started together for a party, and she had passed out despite knowing it was her job to put the flames out.

Of course, no one believed her. Once a mistake, fine. Twice?

The third time she got caught, they found her in the garage, working away at another one of her little machines. Oil was kicked under her fingernails, her hair a mess, eyes heavy from lack of sleep.

("What's going on in here?"
"This is what I do when I need to relax.")

The third time she got caught, it was out of expectation. She smiled when they handed her the ticket and looked her in the eye. "Last chance to be better. Next time, you'll find out what the inside of a jail cell looks like."

Maybe, she thought after they left, that wouldn't be the worst thing.