maya . d3f

"Hey! Hey, Maya!" I turn my head and Rosa beams at me, climbing the rusted automobile she lays next to me, quickly lacing her fingers with mine. We lived in a junkyard at the edge of the district. There was a few of us, children who were victim to the war, left parentless and alone- well expect for each other. Rolling to her side she gazes at me, hair glowing red against the setting sun, "I found something- and trust me this shit is gooood!"

Unable to sit still she pulls me into a sitting position, "I was wondering around our old stomping grounds and was looking around- fine, snooping- the building that used to be used as head quarters for the meetings- you know the ones where your parents used to host the rebels?" She's talking so fast that she forgets to breathe. Gasping she clasped my knees, "I was digging around a little, looking for anything that looked like it was worth a coin or two, but- stay with me- I found something even better! I found some plans!"

Instantly she is rummaging through her ratty old jacket pocket, fingers fishing for papers that were well into the decaying process. "Maya, I'm telling you! You gotta read these!" She shoves them into my hands and I take them, trying to hide the doubt I felt from playing on the features of my face.

"Rosa, I dont know-"

"Maya, just look at them."

Instantly I recognised my mothers hand writing, and I run a shake finger over the inked words that had begun to fade. Pulling open the papers I smooth them over my knees, quickly reading over the documents. Each word, each sentence, sent a wave of excitement and anticipation through me.

"Oh my god, Rosa," looking up from the papers I stare at her with wide eyes. In front of us was a plan that they had been constructing to gather intel on high ranking officials of district three. Intel that could incriminate the precious loyalist, and destroy the trust the Capitol held in them. "Oh my god, Rosa. Rosa, I'm gonna do it."

I face turns serious, and this time when our hands link it is in promise, "I'm gonna do it for them. For us. For all of us."

"Rosa Gomez."

My name is called and hands shove me roughly in the back, forcing me to stand before the member of the Capitol they had sent to bestow upon me my sentence. Chains clink roughy against each other, and I give the peacekeeper behind me a dirty look, spitting at his feet. "Don't fucking touch me, Capitol scum," I hiss, a demand that goes ignored rough hands shoving me forward.

"Rosa Gomez, daughter to the traitors, Carlos and Sofia Gomez, you are charged with treason. You have been sentenced too incarceration to be reviewed on your eighteenth birthday, where you will be trialed as an adult."

I don't hear much after that.

I don't say anything.

Not until the iron door of my cell is slammed shut, and the key turned.

A voice slips through my ears, taunting, cold. "It's fitting really," the guard whispers, "this was the same cell they had your father locked in. Do you know how many times I heard him beg to see you?" He steps closer, smirking, "had him on his god damned knees. Carlos Gomez, one of the biggest threats in district Three, reduced to a grovelling fool."

Each word, each syllable, is like a pain being driven into my heart, my hands balling so tightly I feel nails dig into flesh.

"I look forward to breaking you too."