The rebellion brought out the real version of people, and they discovered who they really were. For me, finding that 'real version' of myself was frightening at first. Eventually, I came to terms with it. I realized that this new me that wanted to fight wasn't actually new at all. It was just hidden inside of me, waiting to be released when the time was right. The rebellion was that right time. When I had the chance to fight as a rebel, against the Capitol, I took it.
I wanted to take down the Capitol, and I would do whatever I could to achieve that.
As a rebel soldier, I handled stealth missions. I'd sneak into enemy territory, set traps and steal supplies and other things that we needed. There was even a time where I stole some of the Capitol's attack plans and delivered them to the rebels. We managed to have far fewer casualties than we likely would have had otherwise when the Capitol actually launched their attack, because I'd stolen their plans and it gave us time to prepare.
I still wish I could have saved absolutely everyone on our side, though.
Luckily, my family survived it all. My parents managed to keep themselves and my younger brother safe, and my older brother managed to keep himself, his wife and their children safe. I survived my days as a rebel soldier with minimal injuries, too. I do have some wounds that still haven't completely healed, but I don't let them hold me back too much.
After the First Hunger Games, fear was instilled in us all. I was lucky not to be taken away and forced to fight in the Hunger Games the first time. Now, however, the Second Hunger Games are upon us, and I didn't get quite as lucky.