let's make a scene [Kendall]

"Perception is a tool that is pointed at both ends."

One of many quotes scrawled across the dirty walls of her house. Big red letters, jumbled together like alphabet soup and mocking her every second of the day. It was true, was it not? She had a spear in one hand and a sparkler in the other, and she had to carry the burden of not hurting herself while she messed with all of her favorite toys. Perception. Fire.

"False faces in family portraits. Layers and layers of lies betrayed by sad glints in the child’s eyes."

Nina found it near impossible to comprehend the nonsense her father scribbled all over their house. He'd come up with the craziest statements, spit it all out in a drunken slur, and then write them on his hands or on the walls so he could remember them all. The purpose of having all these otherwise meaningless words written all over the house escaped Nina. She didn't want to explore his disturbed mind. She'd end up lost in a web of his darkest thoughts and wildest fears. She could hardly keep her own emotions and thoughts in check; trying to understand other people was too dangerous. The world had too many problems. Far too many problems.

The felt tip of the marker was pressed against her arm, tickling her pale skin as she wrote out a sentence. She would carry these words with her today. Just for today. "This is my design."

District Five did not have a stage. All that District Five was was a blank canvas, with a few paint splatters here and there. That was going to change. This place was Nina's design. She had to place the puzzle pieces accordingly. Play the right cards and the place would be hers.

"You can't dance your way through life, Nina."

Oh, on the contrary. Nobody was watching her for now, but that wouldn't last long. Reaching into her back pocket and fishing out a matchbox, she set fire to the sparklers in her hands. Embers kissed her skin, covering her hands in little red marks. She raised the sparkler to her lips, twirling it in her hands and letting the heat come dangerously close to her lips. The night was young, and the moon was full.

It was almost time to make a scene.