In remembrance of the fallen
District 12
In memory of Charlie Gerow, 19th Place
-Ward Elwood, Charlie's Friend-
It wasn't the same. Nothing was ever the same anymore.
The library was once a place of fun and smiles, not a place like this. Ward, who was usually the most bubbly of the bunch, couldn't force a smile on his face to save his life. It just didn't feel right. Nothing felt entirely right anymore… Charlie was gone.
"I guess that his father was right…" Tina said quietly, as the two of them walked in the door together.
"Right about what?" Ward asked her. Their conversation was paused by them checking in with the librarian at the desk. They thanked her, picked up their nametags, and went to one of the tables with papers stacked neatly on top of it.
"The Games." They paused to write their names at the top of their sheet. "His paranoia, I mean."
"I never thought it was that paranoid," Ward said, as they waited for the event to begin. Then again, Ward thought to himself, there was so much I never even imagined… He was so happy all the time because he was completely oblivious. What reason did he have to care for those that were in poverty, those who had lost so much? Now, though, he understood the wrong in his ways. He had lost, he was hurting so badly, and there were people that would rather smile and turn the other way.
Maybe he'd gotten what he deserved for being one of those people in the past. He honestly wasn't sure.
"Ward?" He looked over at her, blushing at having to be called out of his thoughts.
"Sorry," he said sheepishly, a frown spreading across his usually bright face.
"Are you okay to do this?" The frowned and gave a small nod, even if he wasn't entirely confident in his answer. "If you say…"
"Anyways, you were saying about the Games."
"Well, you like to think that lightning doesn't ever strike twice," Tina said quietly. "I guess I just thought that because it happened to Charlie's relatives in the past… Well, it could never happen to him." She frowned solemnly. "I thought it was just silly for him to worry."
"Yeah, me too," sighed Ward. That was certainly true. He thought the reaping would never touch his best friend, or himself for that matter. Now he knew that they were all at risk. Maybe he should start studying up on Games trivia himself… Not that it really helped Charlie.
Why did he do what he did? He would never understand what Charlie was thinking. Apparently, all of the book knowledge in the world was of no help in the actual Arena. It was all fruitless. It all came down to desperation.
"Now let's introduce our teams!" the moderator's voice cut him back out of his thoughts again. "Everyone choose one delegate to introduce your teams! We'll start with these two young people on the left."
Tina looked at Ward, who swallowed a lump in his throat. "I'm Ward, this is Tina, and our team name is The Gerows."
.
In memory of Gabrielle Sky, 22nd Place
-Bailey Honeycutt, Gabrielle's Ex-Girlfriend-
She just stood there.
Bailey couldn't believe her eyes.
She just stood there.
Gabrielle should have run… Why didn't she run!? Dammit, why didn't she run?
Deep in her heart of hearts, Bailey knew the answer. She may have known the answer, but that didn't mean it was the one that she wanted to hear. Because that would have meant that Bailey was wrong… And for what she did, she couldn't afford to think that she had made the wrong decision. She was so sure that she was a good person. She wasn't ready to admit that she wasn't.
She watched Gabrielle get stuck down by one of the towering Careers, and instinctually covered her eyes. She didn't even make a single sound.
She just stood there.
They were once inseparable, Bailey and Gabby. They were once two birds of a feather, and everyone that saw them knew it. Nobody that knew Bailey didn't know about Gabrielle, and vice versa. When they started dating, it was so natural. They were probably the last people to know that they were going to spend the rest of their lives together…
That was so far from the person that Bailey saw there. The person that did… Nothing to fight! Nothing to even try and defend herself… This person that was a complete stranger to Bailey, that simply accepted her death as it happened!
God… What had happened to them? They were once so happy…
Now she was dead, and Bailey couldn't admit to herself, but it was her fault.
After watching Abby commit such horrors in the Games, Bailey knew that she just couldn't be around Gabrielle anymore. She was afraid of her: worried that something would cause Gabby to snap and turn on people that loved her, just like Abby did in the Games… Now, she saw how foolish that was. She wasn't thinking clearly: she wasn't ready to take the scrutiny from her District for Gabrielle's sake.
But Gabrielle wasn't Abby. She never wanted to hurt anyone, and she couldn't hurt anyone. Bailey had seen it far too late. She'd seen the pain she caused Gabrielle way too late. In that one moment, Bailey realized she couldn't have been more wrong… She didn't even give Gabrielle a goodbye, or a reason for leaving her! She didn't give Gabrielle a proper break-up, no proper time to mourn the loss of their relationship like Bailey had. She knew she was all that Gabrielle had: the house of all of her deepest secrets, and Gabby was hers too… Bailey threw it away without giving Gabby a chance to explain herself.
Now, she was sure she would never find someone again. She had fucked up, hurt the person she loved so much she drove her to lose everything: all hope, all drive, everything. How could Bailey think she could ever love someone for real after what she did? She would never forget it. Gabrielle would continue to haunt her, remind her of the biggest mistake she'd ever made…
Tears streamed out of Bailey's eyes, she turned away from the TV, unable to stand the sight of her dead body.
It was all Bailey's fault.
She just stood there.
.
District 11
In memory of Union Pickford, 23rd Place
-Georgia Pickford, Union's Mother-
For such a happy child as Union, it was not a happy day. It was the farthest thing from a happy day. Her dreams, the only thing she ever wanted for her legacy, destroyed. Georgia wasn't upset: she was angry.
Georgia combed her hair behind her ear. Everything she wanted for Union was gone. The fucking Capitol had to come in and take it away. They took everything away from her. She just wanted to take one single thing for them. She wanted to raise one person, just one person that wasn't enslaved to a fear of the Capitol and the Hunger Games. Union was the perfect candidate: he smiled and did whatever the hell she told him, just like her husband. She was going to create an entire legacy, generation of Pickfords, all of them raised with absolutely no fear of the oppression.
Dammit. He hadn't even been able to make a statement. He didn't know better. He ran into the fray and was martyred, but everyone looked past him for the others, for the teens that didn't know better like Georgia, that were enslaved by the Capitol.
Fear allowed the crooked bastards at the Capitol to keep their control over everyone. Georgia wanted to start something through how she used Union, but the damn Capitol destroyed that too.
Georgia was frustrated, but she wasn't about to give up on her dream now. If Union wasn't enough, then she would have to dream bigger. She would have to continue what she did. She would do everything she could to end the oppression of the Capitol, and it started with breaking this generation free of their fear of the Capitol and the Games.
Hampshire sat in the other room, quietly. Georgia looked at herself in the mirror, took a deep breath, and entered the room.
"Honey?" she trilled, causing him to look up.
"Yes dear? Are you alright?" he stood up, turning to face his wife.
"Oh, I'm doing just fine," she said, twirling her hair.
His face went sad, and he turned back around to face the television where his son's death was just replayed. Georgia tried to hide the frustration she was feeling, it would soil the mood. She just needed him to move on already. She didn't want the Capitol to control their family.
"Georgia…" he said, with a heavy frown.
"We should try again," she said. "Another child raised in our special way, that's what we can do to keep Union's death from being in vain. Come on, baby…"
Hampshire gave his wife a frown as she wrapped her arms around him. He was always so easily swayed. She blinked big wide eyes up at him. "Come on, baby."
He crumbled, just like every time, putting his hands on her hips and trying to force a smile on his face as his wife snuggled up close to him, giving him a kiss.
"You're right." She let out a small squeal of excitement for another chance to fuck over the Capitol she hated so much. A new child, a new legacy for Georgia's blood.
America.
That'll scare them.
.
In memory of Eden Robins, 11th Place
-Bluebell Robins, Eden's Sister-
Blue wondered if her siblings had just as hard of a time looking at her as she did looking in the mirror. Every time her eyes landed upon her own reflection, all she could see was Eden. So often, people told the sisters how much they looked alike. Blue used to be so prideful about it. Now, though, it was just a painful reminder of what would never be. Blue got to live her life: she got to grow up, mature… Eden would forever remain a child. She would never grow older than thirteen.
There was nothing she could do, and she knew it. Why couldn't she shake the feeling she'd failed?!
She sat in front of the television, where her sister's body was being taken away from the man that killed her. The room was silent: despite being so full.
Next to her, Acker squeezed her hand. When she looked over into his eyes, she could see her own pain deeply reflected into them. They were the closest siblings to Eden, and she didn't know how the two of them were going to manage.
"No…" Glenn, the second-youngest… The youngest now… released a small whimper. Bell frowned and reached over, trying to comfort him, but she had no idea how she was possibly going to make it better. Her own heart was exploding with pain…
Acker reached over to Fennel to rub his shoulder, who was staring straight forward, completely silent. The events of the Hunger Games continued as usual, but for the Robins, they would never be the same.
"It's not going to be easy," Dad said. "But it will make better people of us all." Without another word, he stood up and walked out of the room. Blue's heart broke at the tears that were streaming down Glenn's face. He didn't deserve this… None of them did. But the one who deserved it least of all was Eden.
Mom glanced at her children, huddled close together, trying to share each other's pain, and walked away from them. Blue watched her go silently, trying to control her resentment for how cold her parents had become, in a time when their children needed them. Blue's eyes filled with tears as she tried to control them.
A sudden cry erupted from the other side of the room. Birch's wife Cherry had run out of the room. Birch got up to go, but something in Blue needed the support of another female. She stood up, releasing Acker's hand.
"I'll go," she said, trying to hide the shaking in her voice.
Birch tried to say something, but Blue didn't listen. She went to the bathroom, where she could hear the sobs ripping through the door.
"Cher?" she said quietly. "It's Blue. Can I come in?"
After a moment, the crying quieted a little bit, and the door opened. Blue went into the bathroom, where she was sitting on the edge of the tub, face buried in her hands. She could feel a lump forming in the back of her throat as she comfortingly rubbed Cherry's knee.
"It's going to be okay," she said, but the tears escaping Blue's eyes at her reflection told another story.
"What are we going to do?" she asked, trembling and hugging herself as she cried.
"Honey, we're going to be okay together…" Blue sniffled a little as she continued to rub Cherry's knee. "It's what she would want for us." She had no idea how she was going to be okay again after what happened.
"Blue…" She looked up at her sister-in-law with teary, fearful eyes. "It's not… It's… I…."
She sniffled and took Blue's hand.
"I'm pregnant."
.
District 10
In memory of Lonan Fodor, 4th Place
-Corbin Fodor, Lonan's Brother-
She would never be put in prison for what she did. It was a reality that was hard for him to swallow.
He had always dreamt of Lonan coming home, becoming the master of his own emotions on the stand, and they wouldn't have a choice but to send Manya to prison for what she did to his little brother. But that reality was no more. His little brother was dead. There was no justice here.
He was so close. Lonan was so close to getting what he deserved. He was only doing what he had to…
Corbin sighed quietly. The tributes were moving into the finale, but Corbin's heart had been left behind. Lonan was his little brother, for fuck's sake. It wasn't fair that both of his allies were alive and Lonan wasn't.
That didn't make it any less painful for him to watch Lonan drag out the last moments of that little boy's life. He closed his eyes for a moment. That certainly wasn't Lonan. Corbin wasn't going to stand by here and pretend that what Lonan did was okay, but he also had no idea what it was like to have been in that position. He didn't believe that his brother was evil: it was so unlike Lonan.
After Lonan's death, the mood in the District felt like it'd changed. The chatter on the street changed. Lonan's funeral, expressing their apologies for abandoning Lonan when he obviously needed them the most. Regret hung over the room like a steel curtain. Corbin was glad that at least in death, he got the good name he deserved. He had done so much evil to get there… But that was the Hunger Games. Corbin would always forgive him, for fucks' sake Lonan was his brother!
The change in attitude was obvious. Even if Manya wouldn't be put in prison, at least she was getting the dirty looks she deserved to receive in public. That was what Corbin hoped, at least. After seeing the shell of a man Lonan became because of her, it was the least of the calamities that she should have to suffer.
He lost everything, and Corbin had to watch it unfold. The least he could do was know why.
Maybe this was a bad idea. It was too late to look back now.
Corbin knocked on the door. The door opened to see a relaxed-looking woman behind it.
"Hello? Oh." Her face turned to a scowl. "What are you doing here? You know he's dead, right?"
"He was my brother. This is my nephew. I have a right to meet him, Manya."
She gave him a long look. "You really think I would trust you in my house after what your brother did to me?"
Corbin balled his fists. "You know he did nothing to you. Everyone knows it now!"
"This is the only good thing that came from my trauma," she said, and almost as if on cue, the baby inside started to stir loudly.
Corbin's anger melted into desperation. "Can I at least see him?" he needed any reminder of his brother right now.
Manya looked into his face, then took a deep breath, going back into the house. She brought out the baby, who was now happily taking his bottle. He was so beautiful… He resembled Lonan so much… Corbin's eyes filled with tears as the sight of his nephew.
"Well, this is him." The baby stared at him as he tried to force a teary smile.
"Corbin, meet your nephew. Zen."
.
In memory of Oona Loveless, 20th Place
-Sylvie Finley, Oona's Ex-Girlfreind-
There was something more to Oona Loveless. From the time they were kids, Sylvie knew it. She had all of the faith that somewhere, hiding behind her cold exterior, there was something more. The people around her told her she was silly in hushed voices. They were all so terrified of Oona Loveless. They hung their heads, trying to hide, trying to hang low. For a while after they dated in sixth grade, all those years ago, they did the same to Sylvie.
But Sylvie wasn't dating someone that she was afraid of. Some people asked if she was okay, if she was fearful. But she wasn't. She knew that there was something more to Oona. Unlike the people around her, Sylvie dared to hope that she would someday realize the errors in her ways.
Now she was dead, so it didn't matter.
The kids from school were cruel. They linked arms and danced at school the next day. They sang about the witch that was now dead, how much happier they would be now that she was gone. And for all of the cruelty caused by Oona that she'd seen, she should be glad too. But it seemed that Sylvie was the only one that wasn't happy about it.
Sylvie couldn't possibly imagine being happy about anyone's death: even the cruelest person she knew… Maybe because she had seen the softer side of Oona. She seemed to be the only one that did. Oona picked on her: but she did have a heart. She had gone and gotten Sylvie's backpack from the pond, after all. Sylvie was crying, she didn't want her clothes to get wet as she knew it would get her in trouble at home. Oona had gone into the swamp to get it.
Sylvie had her own hidden sins. Their break-up hadn't been clean. Sylvie had done plenty of wrong herself. She didn't know what lead her to kiss someone else, she was young and dumb for heaven's sake. She knew that must have broken Oona. The truth was that she was scared of dating the bully, she was scared of the judgement she received. If only she could have stayed with Oona just a few months longer, maybe she would have brought out that side of her. Maybe then she wouldn't have become someone that was so vehemently disliked.
They all thought that Sylvie was a saint, but she had hurt Oona. In a way, she was responsible for what she became. Sylvie would forever have to live with the pain of knowing she created Oona. And now she was dead, no hope for redemption, no hope for a better life.
Nobody apologized to Sylvie: a couple of her classmates actually congratulated her. "You must feel better now," they said. But Sylvie knew that Oona would never hurt her. It was a truth that she and Oona both knew, in their heart of hearts. The one that deserved it the most, Sylvie would never be made to suffer as so many good and innocent people had suffered.
Sylvie walked home as soon as the bell rang, trying to ignore the congratulations of her peers. It wasn't a happy event. Sylvie should be suffering. She got away with her crimes, and she would be seen as a saint.
But she didn't want it.
"Sylvie! Congratulations! Did you hear the good news!?"
It wasn't good news.
"Excuse me," said Sylvie, quickly running home, cutting past another group of students.
It should have been me…
.
District 9
In memory of Burton Damask, 18th Place
-Calico Madras, Burton's Friend-
"You awake?"
Cal blinked a long blink and rolled over. "Of course I'm awake."
The lamp clicked on, and Perc sighed and sat up with a brief stretch. "Have you slept at all?" It was past four.
"No," Cal sighed quietly. The room still felt painfully empty without Burton there. It would never not feel empty. But Cal and Perc had each other, and they needed to hold onto each other.
"Me neither." Perc frowned. "I just keep thinking about who I used to be," he said. "That poor little kid from the streets. You and Burt inspired me so much…"
"You've grown so much." Cal managed to give his friend a smile among the dim light of the lamp.
"Thanks to you," Perc said. "But… Well, I always thought I'd someday be able to repay you both for what you've done for me." He sighed, and closed his eyes. "But now…"
Cal's eyes filled with tears despite him willing himself not to cry. He's been trying so hard to be strong, trying to pretend nothing is wrong and nothing happened. As if that would make them feel better… As if that would fill the gap in their hearts… But he could only keep it up for so long. They were all bound to break eventually. That was how the Games operated. Cal hoped he would have never watched it unfold in his life… God…
"Now I'll never get to…" His voice raised an octave as his eyes filled with tears. Cal slid off of his bed to where the straw mattress was set up for his friend and put an arm around him.
"I can't speak for Burt, but…" he bit his lip to try and keep it from quivering. "The best way to repay us, I think, is just living your best life, buddy. We invested into you because of the awesome guy you are, and the great things you can do…" He sniffled a little bit, wishing Burton were here. He could have put it into words far better than Cal could… "So the best way you can repay us is by chasing your dreams."
Percale's face was streaked with tears and he gave a small sniffle, shaking his head. "I… I don't know how I'm going to get there, without Burt. I-I mean-" he tried to backtrack to keep from hurting Cal's feelings, but Cal couldn't let him do it.
"I understand. I don't know how I'm going to get by with Burt either. I-I mean… We were going to have to learn for when he went off to Uni in District Three, but…" A tear pushed its way out of his eye. "I always knew I wouldn't be ready to say goodbye when the time came." He sniffled and whispered, "I was right."
"Yeah…" Perc said quietly, getting tissues off Cal's nightstand and passing them over to him. Both of the boys blew their noses and patted at their eyes. "I've decided then. I'm going to try and catch my dreams to make you and Burton proud of me, like you said." Percale's face turned determined. "Starting after the funeral tomorrow… I'm going to dive even deeper into my studies. I'm going to follow Burton's footsteps. I might be poor, but I can try for a scholarship…"
"Perc, I know you can do it," Cal said, rubbing his back.
"Thanks, Cal…. I'm going to try and catch my dreams. I want to go to District Three University."
.
In memory of Hallie Vista, 24th place
-Elizabette Velvet, Hallie's Friend-
Without Hallie, life was quiet and sad. All interest had been sucked away for Elizabette, without her friend here. Going to school was so monotonous, and she was beginning to understand Hallie's deep desire for spice in her life. She was right: the same routine got boring after a while, and Elizabette wanted something more.
But at the same time, she didn't share her friend's love of sleuthing. The idea of finding: actively searching for: dead bodies made Bette shudder with fear and disgust. She certainly didn't want to do that, as much as she knew that Hallie loved it.
She was so confident in Hallie. She was so clever and creative: and she had such interesting luck. But, in an Arena all about luck, Hallie managed to die first because of mines. Watching her friend explode would forever be imprinted into Bette's memory… She would never forget the sight, no matter how hard she tried. What the hell was she thinking!? Bette was sure that her friend wasn't suicidal… Or, as sure as one could be. She earned such a high training score, after all! Hallie had it in her to be among the youngest Victors in the nation.
But it wasn't meant to be.
Bette was a little worried about Hallie's disinterest in the Games coming back to bite her. But she honestly thought that Hallie would want to pay attention to the rules and figure them out as she went. She was so smart, and if her life depended on it, Bette was sure she would come through…
But Hallie was a stubborn mule. She left during the same period every day, because she couldn't bear to sit through the class that bored her to the bones. If Hallie didn't want to learn, she simply wouldn't. Bette knew that it was futile trying to believe otherwise.
Why didn't anyone tell her about the mines?! It should have been obvious how clueless Hallie was about the Games. To Bette, it screamed with everything Hallie did.
But, she knew that the mentors were young. They did attend the funeral: both of them looking upset and solemn. Frodo, Hallie's younger brother, clung to June and Prentice's legs the entire time, and they could barely stand to talk to her parents after their failure to inform her about the mines.
Bette and her family talked to Hallie's parents, which was comforting. Bette was glad to see that they were okay.
"Elizabette," came an unfamiliar voice. She looked over at the boy who sat next to her (without asking).
"What are you doing here Wes?" she asked, crossing her arms.
"She was my classmate."
"She hated you. You hated her," Elizabette was feeling quite defensive. Wes frowned, and she sighed, her nice instincts taking over her.
"I miss her," he said quietly. "She was competition to me. She was really smart, and she just seemed to have it all…" He shook his head.
"Yeah, she was. Why couldn't you just accept that before she died?"
He frowned and just provided her a small shrug.
"I'm not going to be rude to you Wes," Bette said, finally. "I'm just saying… You should think about what you did to her."
He frowned and stared at the ground. "You're right," he said, finally, and without another word, he found his parents.
That was weird, thought Bette, as she leaned into her father's side. She didn't have much time to mull over the interaction before the service began. It was short and to the point: exactly what Hallie would have wanted, Bette thought. It would have made her proud.
Elizabette walked out snuggled between her parents, happy to have lived through another reaping.
Hopefully fate would stay away from them next year.
.
District 8
In memory of Coda Fukai, 3rd Place
-Kousuke Fukai, Coda's Brother-
He hadn't studied so much since… God, he couldn't remember when. This room, which was once a place of scheming, laughing, being with his brother, was now Kousuke's prison. Posters for District 3 University littered his walls: while they once served as a motivation for him to study in order to do great things, they were now his motivation to get the hell out of this house.
He had already been studying a ton since their little incident. His parents certainly didn't mind his extra drive. Kousuke thought he was studying to make them proud, because he wanted to follow Blaise's footsteps and make his family proud… But in reality, that wasn't his motivation at all.
It was all a big, elaborate escape. Studying was a distraction from what happened with Coda, from the fear he felt as they were being chased, from the horror at his brother's leg absolutely destroyed, so sure he was going to die, so sure that he was going to lose Coda forever…
And then he did. His older brother, wiped out in an instant. He'd died slowly, but his body gave out before his eyes. Kousuke never wanted to lose Coda. He never wanted to watch his brother die…
And he'd never gotten to tell Coda any of the things he was feeling. They had such a cold dynamic before. It would have felt so out of place for Kousuke to tell his brother how much he meant to him. Sure, they disagreed sometimes, and the situation they were in together made Kousuke lose trust in his brother. But that didn't mean he didn't love him. He was still his big brother, Kousuke just… He needed space after the trust was ruined. But he didn't want to lose Coda…
Feelings were so complicated. The books in front of Kousuke weren't. Or, well, they were, but in a different way. In a way that his brain was able to understand, and feel comfortable with. He knew that his answers would be correct: and that he would be praised for them. When it came to emotions, well, he could say neither about those.
He practically counted down the days until he could get the hell out of here. In that respect, Blaise was the luckiest bastard. He could go back to District Three, away from the memories and the ghosts. He had a life there: friends, studies, a house: and none of them reeked of Coda. He already let go of his family, and Kousuke was here for another five fucking years. With parents that didn't understand.
Kousuke stared at the books, but they offered him no solace anymore. He was gone. And Kousuke was here. He would never get away from here. He would never get Coda back.
He flipped the page, looking at the various geometrical figures with labelled letters and angles. He sniffled, pushing back tears that were threatening to come out of his eyes. X, Y, Z, 180, parallel… These were words that didn't have in their very bones.
These would get him through.
He buried his head in his books again, solving the problems before him.
Only one tear dripped onto the page.
.
In memory of Sonnet Timmons, 21st Place
-Hattie Darter, Sonnet's Best Friend-
The blank page seemed to stare up at her. Defiant Wives depended on her now…
Hattie sighed, putting the paper in the folder and put it away. It wouldn't come today. Hell, the music didn't come to her at all. Sonnet, in effect, was her music. She was by far the greatest mastermind of Defiant Wives. Hattie was just along for the journey.
Now that Sonnet was gone, there was nothing left of Defiant Lives. There was nothing left of the music, of the gigs that had once filled Hattie's life with goodness and laughter. All of it, so quickly taken away from her.
It happened in an instant, Sonnet trying to run away and falling. Hattie tried to yell at her friend to run, but it was all for naught. She was struck down, in an instant, before she or any of her loved ones could know what was happening. Hattie could barely think enough to cry. She couldn't do anything except for stare at the screen, in absolute shock as her ally escaped the bloodbath unscathed. Just like that, she was gone.
Sometimes, Sonnet's sang to Hattie in her dreams. Sometimes, the songs they'd written together, the songs that Sonnet wrote for them, would cruelly get stuck in her head. She loved those songs, with all her heart… But they just made her so miserable. She could see the vulnerability in Sonnet's face as she shared her creations with the world. She loved when her best friend got that look in her eye. She loved how proud Sonnet was of herself, how it lifted her up.
Now, there was nothing to lift Hattie up. She felt completely and totally left behind. It wasn't Sonnet's fault… But Hattie couldn't help but feel angry. Angry at the Capitol, angry at Sonnet for being in the crossfire, angry at her killer… But she couldn't be angry at everyone.
Tears fell out of her eyes as she looked at the blank piece of paper in front of her. Sonnet talked about how she loved to write songs when she felt vulnerable or sad. She talked about the creative process behind her songs, behind the inspiration for Defiant Wives…
Why can't I just do this now? She wanted to use music to help her pain. She wanted to make something so beautiful out of pain that was so ugly, just like Sonnet did.
But there was nothing beautiful for Hattie to find in all of this. There was nothing beautiful about the death of someone she considered a sister. Someone she had tried so hard to save from any pain… Someone she loved so much and poured so much into… Someone she performed with. She felt the pain of the band that had lost their singer. It was like their music just disappeared.
Hattie stared at the ukulele that was sitting dormantly across the room. It hadn't been touched for so long. She still wasn't totally sure she could stand it.
Hattie grabbed the instrument, with trembling hands.
I'll tune it today. Maybe then I'll play it tomorrow.
She could only hope she would play again someday.
A/N: I know these (long) updates are coming at you fast, please don't feel obligated to stay completely caught up on reviews if you have a lot going on. I just want to get this story finished and have Sons of Light posted before I move on July 20th because it works out well that I should be waiting on subs while I'm moving and stressing and everything. So, yeah, please don't feel obligated to stay caught up on these big chapters, this is purely for my convenience.
Deleted scenes are still being churned out and posted on the blog, which is on my profile! Hope you're enjoying them and continue to check the blog as I have scenes scheduled to go up throughout the rest of this week!
CQ: Favorite epilogue from this bunch and why?
See you on Wednesday for the continuation of the epilogues.