Join me

A/N: I just wrote and this happened. I'm not normal so yeah. Honestly, my view of Johale, it was doomed from the start, I have a thing for dysfunctional relationships so this isn't a healthy relationship, and I don't think it would have been. But it's just one idea of many on what could have happened.


She ran into death, she ran into life, she ran into misery she ran into fortune, ran into gore and glory, the fame, the hate, destruction and she ran into the ocean then fire.


Cigarettes and morphing shouldn't be part of anyone's diet, not without the vodka.

How did she end up like this? Even with seaweed brains, she had a healthy lifestyle well as healthy as fucked up people like them could be. Now it's was wake up, drink, inject, fuck, drink, swallow, sleep, repeat. He wasn't as bad as her, at least he had a job and knew when to stop, but that didn't make him any better.

Honestly she didn't even know how they ended up together .They weren't "together" together, just together. She remembers when he visited the sea district to see the baby and she ran into him there eventually they got drunk, fucked, and shared some secrets but it wasn't a big deal.

She when to the iron district when she couldn't take it anymore, not with the child that reminded her of her own lost one, mother of the birdbrains, and the wife of her lover. She didn't know where to go until she found a paper with an address in the perfect writing of the solider.

The address leads her to a blue grey building. They resembled the apartments where all the Capitol whores would stay. The inside was painted cream and the doors where burgundy she was about to knock complex b17 when A girl opened the door, she had strawberry curls and green eyes with the perfect pink lips. She looked like the jewel districts favorite victor. She was just leaving from the appearance; bag in hand keys in the other.

Clearly confused, "ah ... hi?" She called out,"um you have company ... Uh...?"

"Gale" from behind

"Gale" she nodded

"Um yeah thanks ... Shade" he ran his finger through his hair.

"Suave" said pursed lips.

The blonde just left going down the stairs.

"She looked like a good fuck" she said smirking.

He finally gave her a good look. She was different, she knew, he almost didn't recognize her. Her hair was to her shoulders and one side shaved (she had permanent burns scars so she just shaved it). She was much thinner and had eyeliner smudged on.

"Oh shit"

"Hello gorgeous"

She didn't ask for permission or if it was alright to spend the night she simply entered and drank from a half empty bottle. Leaving her duffle bag somewhere in the room. And that was that.


They just lived together. They banged. They fucked other people too they didn't care. They went towards the clouds together, they never seemed to touch them but sometimes they got fucked up enough that they could feel the warm mist of air that the clouds really where.

They were never gentle with each other. They fought passionately and had equally passionate makeups. They never said "I love you" or "I care" because they both knew they would have been lying

They didn't realize it was love till later, when she left and run off to the only place she knew he wouldn't go after. The coal district. She had run off before , that was her specialty she ran from her nightmares she ran from her family she ran from the city lights from the smiles the lies her problems and most of all she ran from love.

But he did go after her, to her surprise. Because when she left him, he thought oh shit I love her. He did feel something and he didn't want to her to go, he wasn't going to let her. Or so that's what he told her.


She came back and their routine was too. Same old bang bang same old liquid in their veins. People on the streets would snicker about them on the streets, the crack whore, meth head, morphlings and much more horrible things.

They were oblivious to the world around them.

They didn't care. Not until she lost the baby. She was 6 weeks old and didn't even know. She never thought it was possible. She was told she had an operation done in her whore days that wouldn't let her have kids

He didn't know but she already had lost a child before. But the first time it was by her own doing. She and the fish boy had fucked around a few times they never ever thought about consequences. Mags told her she was expecting she went ballistic. She cried and yelled, she clawed at her abdomen cursing at it. The boy from the fishing district bought her a fancy pill that took care of their situation.

She swallowed it dry.

He vowed to stop; he was always stronger than her. She didn't want to she didn't know how to deal with the pain. All the walls she held up, the secrets and lies they broke. Finally she let out years of buried grief and burdens as old as the wind itself.

She wasn't cunning anymore. She wasn't strong anymore. She wasn't manipulative. She wasn't crude or carefree anymore. She didn't fly or drown. She wasn't anything, which was worse than all those things she was.

He stayed with her, he got better, she didn't really know how. His skin didn't sag or have the sickly hue to it like hers. He grew his hair out, like she liked it. His eyes weren't so clouded as they use to be. He looked like a real man. He always looked older but now you could see he wasn't an 18 old boy with a fickle heart. The war wounds had mended.

Time didn't matter anymore. Hours and minutes the months and the second all just melted together. The world around her had become just a hum in the background. She was alone with her thoughts. Her head wasn't a pretty place to be. The faces of all the people she left behind haunted her pleading not to be forgotten. The pain in her chest wouldn't cease and she had resorted to numbness. The sheets the white little pills and she had become best friends.

He would take care of her. Bathing her in warm water, she never thought that he paided attention but he knew cold water brought bad memories. He would cut her hair and braid it; he told her that he learned because of his sister. But he had work so he would tell her to be a Good girl and he'd leave her.


She wasn't a good girl. She would go to the bad part of town. The victors fund always ensured her money but she never even tried to get any, she paided the boys the only way she knew. Most of them weren't that good looking, but what it brought was worth the fuck. She wouldn't hear the voices of the lives she took anymore when she wasn't even aware of the lights.

The plastic Baggie had little white circles that brought her happiness. She would play with them run her boney fingers. Once upon a time she looked down upon the drunken victor from the coal district and the morphlings but here she was fucking random ass guys for a little escape. See everyone dies they were just doing it a bit faster. The cigarettes filled her lungs burning them black, the hum in her veins, the buzz in her head as the amber liquid eats away her sanity. It was all killing her, she never felt more alive.

He found her on the floor He screamed at her and lectured her like her papa would have, she laughed throughout the whole thing.

"You think this is funny?! Fuck Johanna! Why do you do this shit?! Why do you insist on ruining yourself?" he said the last part differently whisper.

She deliberately ignores him and looked straight into his eyes. His eyes were full of rage sadness love and most of all life. Things she knew she didn't have, she couldn't take that from him.

Finally she spoke "Hmm I do this to die"

"God you think they all sacrificed their lives for you just to waste it"

"Waste it I shall"

"I can't let you do this to yourself, shit gets better I promise"

"Don't promise me shit don't fucking promise!" she clawed at his chest. Her just hugged her tight and kissed her forehead

"I love you Jo"

"Love? You don't love me. You love her"

"No I love you"

"That cute, I kind of love ya too. But whenever your fucking me you don't see me you see her"

He scoffed "really. Only because you see him doesn't mean I think of her"

"You always think your better than me. Oh looked I'm clean sober for months, I'm a soldier, I kissed Kat face, I love poor souls. Well looky solider Hawthorne , at least I knew I was loved back , at least I can admit my faults , at least I know who I killed and I know sure as fuck I didn't kill a girl who basically my family "

He just shakes his head "you don't only destruct yourself but you try to harm everyone else around you, you have power. I stuck around because I fucking love you. But I won't do this anymore. I'm going to 12 to see my family if you finally wake up I will be expecting you in 12, but if not the rents paided for 3 more months I'm not coming back"


She never saw him again.


He sent letters and tried to call. He was brave, She wasn't she couldn't go back; he didn't understand he wasn't a victor. She couldn't give up on her vices for him. Sometimes loves is just no enough.

After a while she lost the apartment. She sold all the stuff collected enough money to keep up her habits. She never really knew whose house she sleeps in next.

She keeps on and she saw a different man every night and tried a different drug every time. She lost herself her body and her mind.

The part of her that had a speck of self respect was gone. Once she hoped for something, she yearned for love, she seeks for guidance. But what was the point of caring or trying to hold on. Ever thing she ever loved always slipped away. And she could never balm it on anyone vacates she knew whose fault it was, mis culpa mis maxima culpa.

Every since he was young she acted as if he was inevitable and there was someone who knew she wasn't and acted as if that was fine, and she always pushed then away but wanting anyone to find her weaknesses. Deep down she knew when she pushed them away she just really wanted them to stay. They never stayed, because humans can only stand rejection so long.

So she danced and she inhaled and exhale she let the bones stretch her skins and the illness takeover her mind. She was the one with no name and no soul.

The darkness came back and hours and minutes and seconds faded away and the moon was her only friend.

One day she woke up and realized it was reaping day.

She took a shower and combed her long hair, and wore the red dress she wore on her interview with the Capitol host. The silver eyeliner smoked her eyes and the crimson tinted her mouth looking like blood. Every bottle was uncapped and ever pill Drunken. She walked out into the park bench and laid to rest.


Gale Hawthorne found a letter few days after with the chicken scratch of Johanna Mason and a syringe labeled, join me.


A/N: yesh so um yeah im just experimenting but i really like it big shout out to , thewomanwhocodesandwrites , Nat , who is just amazing an always gives me advice you should check out her stories really awesome.