"What about me?" you want to scream. "What about us? We've lost our leader! Our protector! We lost our brother!" But no one would listen to you.
They are all too busy comforting the girl with black hair and blue eyes, and not the ones with calloused hands and oil stained shirts.
Then you're thrown into the deep end, into the life of camp counsellors and you want to just scream and chuck all the papers in the air.
"This is not my job," you confide in your best friend, "this was his. I'm not a leader. I can barely hold myself together, let alone an entire cabin of kids who look up to me now."
You push away the papers on your desk and head into the quad. You hear a sobbing girl and an entire crowd comforting her and don't have to turn around to know it's her.
You feel the feeling of wanting to scream and shriek and kick and yell so you turn and run. Run until the eyes and hair and lives blur together and you fall to the ground sobbing.
You turn to the sky and whisper a message for your brother, even though you know he's below ground, in Elysium. You were brought up believing in the heavens in the sky, so they will always be there.
"Beckendorf, come back. We need you. I need you." Your voice cracks and you tuck your head into your elbow and sob until the daughter of love and the son of fire are long gone and you're left with a wet face and soggy shirt and a whole bunch of memories that won't go away.
"We lost our brother."
Haha, hey. I'm in love with 2nd POV right now, so yeah. I'm writing a whole lot of deep (I hope) one-shots. BTW, would you check out my Will Solace story? Chuur bro, thanks.