In remembrance of the fallen
District 1
In memory of Mercury Macey, 14th Place
-Chalcedony Sawyer, Mercury's Best Friend-
She stared into blank green eyes. Her reflection looked back at her with a ghastly expression, just as hollow as she felt. Her honey hair fell limply down to her shoulders as Chal couldn't find it in herself to put it up. She covered the blemishes on her face, but she couldn't pick up the eyeshadow. She couldn't find the energy to doll herself up for today.
She felt the lump in her throat and tried to swallow it down. It was bound to be a day of tears, but if they started so early, Chal wouldn't be able to stop them. She took her water glass and took a shaking sip, trying to make it go away, but since Merc had died, the lump had always ached. Chal felt unstable, like she would break any second, if someone so much as said his name. She felt like she was going to break down at all times, even when she was going to go to bed.
How many nights did she spend crying? All in anticipation for this terrible day. Anticipation of a life without Merc. Every single day would be this way. Chal had no idea how she was going to do this every day. She couldn't imagine a time when she wouldn't feel like this every morning. He was her best friend. Her heart bled for him. She… She loved him so much. She could imagine a future with him. And now, it was all gone. In the blink of an eye, it was gone. In the blink of an eye, that girl from District Two took his life for something he didn't even do. Chal would never escape the memory of what it looked like, sounded like, how she felt as it happened, the pain he must have felt… The shock, the agony, the worry, the sadness… It was just too much for Chal.
Her black sweater was cloaked around her, and she pulled it closer to her for warmth and comfort. Comfort that will never come. Warmth that would never stay.
It was a quiet breakfast, her parents both dressed in their best, before they slowly walked to the funeral home together. Chal's parents were doting on her, trying to find out what she needed from them. She appreciated it, but she felt the pity radiating from both of them. Chal knew how lucky she was to have someone with such a bright future ahead of him. She was lucky to have someone her parents adored, that she loved so much… But of course it couldn't last.
It was a long walk, and a beautiful summer day. Chal closed her eyes as the breeze blew on her face, the sun kissing her skin. It was the only thing that kept her believing that it would get better.
When they arrived, his parents greeted them at the door, all of them exchanging hugs. Mrs. Macey was just as crushed as Chal, and she could feel the unsteadiness of her breaths when they hugged. Mr. Macey was grim, but looked nervous more than anything.
"You okay Chal?" asked Antimony, giving her a hug as the sadness permeated his face.
"No," said Chal, her eyes filling with tears.
"Yeah, me neither," he said quietly, as she moved to Radon.
"I'm so sorry Radon," Chal said, frowning down at the fourteen-year-old.
"I'm going to keep his memory alive. I'm going to keep working until I win the Games in his memory!" he said, looking fiery and determined.
A tear escaped Chal's eye of worry and fear that he would soon be killed, just like Merc… But she didn't tell him. She just gave him a nod, and walked with her parents to find her seat.
Seeing his body, limp, perfectly pristine, Chal couldn't control the sobs that escaped her mouth as she covered her horrified face with a hand.
Oh Merc…
How am I ever going to be okay without you?
~.~.
In memory of Celestia Romilly, 8th Place
-Opal Lush, Celestia's Best Friend-
Opal found a new drive on the even of her friend's death. It was disgusting; how her family seemed to barely care about their child passing away in such a horribly sick way. It was painful, it was brutal, gruesome, grotesque… Even though Remus seemed to not know what was happening, she was glad he got what was coming to him.
She couldn't help but feel guilty. Celestia started training because of me… She knew it was true. And Opal wasn't training for the Games: she was training for the social benefits of training, getting to know others, getting good recommendations from trainers, which was regarded highly. She never meant to actually go into the Games. And yet, Celestia did. Opal was so proud of her at the time, but now, she wished that Celestia hadn't volunteered. Opal felt so alone without her. She had other friends, but she didn't know any of them for as long as she'd know Celestia. It was strange to have Celestia in the Capitol, away from her, but Opal had no doubt she'd be back.
Until Kelwyn made her shoot him. Opal knew for a fact that Celestia lived a fairly normal life up until that point, especially for District One standards. Her parents weren't the most loving, but they never hurt her or yelled at her. She lived a normal life until she had to shoot her ally in the Arena. Opal could see in Celestia's eyes that she was irreparably broken. From the moment it happened onward, Celestia sat in that spot, rocking back and forth, hugging her knees. She didn't talk, she barely responded to Remus until she realized where she was, and she put up a fight. It wasn't enough. She could never have recovered from that. What the hell was Kelwyn thinking?! He obviously wasn't.
Opal walked into the training center, after so long of not going there. She was no longer eligible for the Games, nor did she want to be a trainer, but she felt herself drawn back here. She knew that there were kids here, young people that needed Celestia. They needed someone now that she was gone. Opal figured that it was the only thing she could really do to make it up to Celestia.
Not that there was really anything she could do. But if there was something, this was it.
She opened the doors, not getting the usual looks and stares like she did before. The training academy moved on, just as the world kept turning.
Opal saw her trainer Lily still hard at work, continuing to choose hopeful young teens that want to be tributes someday. The stars in their eyes made Opal worry.
"Cassandra?" she approached the girl who was throwing knives, some of which hit targets and some of which bounced off. The fiery young girl turned around.
"Opal, right?" she asked. She was certainly observant. "You were Celestia's friend." They had met while they were both spending extra hours in the training center.
"That's me." Opal suddenly felt foolish. She knew nothing about training, what was she going to do? "How's it going?"
"It's okay," she said, her eyes flicking back to the knives that were on the ground.
"Well, I know that training is stressful. So if you ever need anything, well, uh, I live a block away from the Center."
Cassandra's hard gaze softened at the offer. "Oh. Well, um, thanks for that." She gave a small smile.
"You're welcome." Opal hopefully smiled back.
~.~.
District 2
In memory of Remus La Rocque, 7th Place
-Valerie Chung, Remus's Girlfriend-
Life without Remus was hard. Some days, it seemed impossible. Valerie wasn't about to deny how challenging it was for her to be without him, and she couldn't say that the pain lessened each day, she couldn't say that she ever thought it would go away.
She woke up that morning feeling absolutely terrible. It wasn't a special day, it wasn't a significant date, so Valerie had no idea why she felt so terrible. She just did. And that feeling hanging over her like a darkness made it impossible for her to do anything. She knew she had class, but her heart didn't care about class. She just wanted Remus. She wanted her life to go back the way it was before. She just wanted to lay here, to lay here and cry…
Tears streamed down her cheeks. She missed him so badly. She had a bad feeling about the Hunger Games, but he was too determined, there was nothing she could have done to stop him. Something changed in him by the end, something that caused his death, but Valerie couldn't blame him. She wanted it to happen. She wanted him to kill every last one of them, because she wanted him to be back by her side so badly.
Now, she was on the receiving end of pity, pity from everyone around her, and she couldn't say that she didn't like it sometimes, but she also felt like people saw her differently because of what happened to Remus. She would always be Remus's poor girlfriend. She could never just be Valerie Chung again. Maybe she could, if she beat this grieving depressing that had its ugly hands wrapped around her, but the end to her pain was not even close to being in sight for her.
She was already going to be late for class, so her will to go went down even more. She didn't want to be in pain anymore, but she couldn't do anything to stop it… She was still having trouble adjusting to being far away from everything she ever knew. She was here in District Six, living in a dorm, attending classes… It was so different than back home. And so few from District Two cared enough to attend University in the first place. She was surrounded by strangers. Her best friends, Ashton and Aquila, were back home, her parents were back home, even Remus's body was there. Valerie truly felt like she had nothing here.
Then there was Nadia… Valerie hated that she'd left District Two without making things right. But they were just too different. Nadia wanted to be a Victor. She wanted to have violent revenge on Remus's killer that was still allowed to live. It was foolish of Nadia to risk her own life in the Arena, after they saw what that Arena did to Remus. Valerie couldn't stand the thought. Nadia was wrapped up in nobility, doing it for Remus, but Valerie just saw her head getting bigger, using Remus as a sob story to push her rather than remembering her treasured friend. Valerie couldn't handle any more of that attitude about the man who was once her everything. She couldn't go through another Hunger Games of biting her nails every day. It just wasn't right by Remus.
Nadia wanted to set them on fire. Valerie didn't want fire, though. She wanted rain.
Ashton and Aquila called her once a week, but hearing their voices wasn't a suitable replacement for Valerie. She was homesick, she missed Remus, she missed everything. Her life was completely different now, and nothing she could do would change it. And now she was missing class, after her parents had given her so much financial help to go to school.
Valerie just couldn't manage it today. She closed her eyes and went back to sleep.
…
When she woke up, she felt more refreshed and energetic. She had always been a night owl working on her animations, and now was no different. Valerie got a granola bar and her tablet before she was outside. Something about the nighttime, the cool wind, was calming to her. Valerie went where her feet carried her, directionless. She just needed a place that wasn't that tiny, cramped dorm room in which to think.
She needed a place where she could just let go, and express herself.
She settled in one of the buildings that was still open, comfortably sitting on one of the benches outside of some small rooms.
She started sketching out the next frame of her animation: one that she was making for Remus before he died. It was the only thing that gave her solace enough to really, truly feel nowadays. The rest of them went by in a numb haze. Valerie was trying to learn more about different kinds of animation, but for now, drawing each frame was what she was best at. Even though he was gone, she was trying to make it look good: the constant cycle of changing shading, cleaning up lines, watching it again and changing the smallest details, was what distracted Valerie and made her feel calm.
Suddenly, her ears perked up as she heard music coming from one of the rooms. It was unlike anything she had ever heard before. It was calm, like the nature that Valerie liked so much, but also expressive, and beautiful. She listened to the piece, her heart being carried away to a place of calm, peace. As the performer practiced, Valerie continued to work on her animation, feeling oddly at ease there. For a moment, it felt like her chest wasn't being held down. For once, she felt like she could just exist without the pressure of her feelings weighing her down.
She worked there, in a state of total peace and productivity doing what she loved, when the music stopped, and she saw a young man walking out of the room.
"Excuse me!" Valerie couldn't help but stop him. "What was that piece you were playing? It really inspired my animation, as it was played beautifully."
The boy blushed bashfully. "Thanks," he said, holding the folder of music closer to his chest. "This piece is actually one my favorites."
Valerie looked at him curiously, giving him a smile.
"Debussy," he said.
"Clair de Lune."
~.~.
In memory of Arden Rivendell, 13th Place
-Ryder Rivendell, Arden's Father-
He was so sure it was going to be her.
She had a strength he didn't. He was so proud of his daughter. She was beautiful, she was strong, and she was driven. He couldn't protect her, but she protected everyone. After her mother left, Arden could have become mean. She could have become like him: a drunkard that continually pushes away his problems. Someone in denial, someone that turns angry and cruel, someone that pushed everyone out, away from them, and didn't trust anyone. She could have become someone that built up walls, only to have them torn down.
But she didn't.
She became empowered. She became determined to make something better out of her pain. She spread her wings, rose from the ashes, like a phoenix. She put her mind to it, she worked hard, she was chosen to volunteer out of an entire District of people that wanted that spot. People that were richer than her, people that had mother figures in their lives, people that by all means should have been able to defeat her. But Arden wouldn't let them. She took the pen in her hand and wrote her own story.
Until she was outwitted.
Despite that, Ryder was proud of her. She defied all of the odds. She showed those boys in her alliance that she was a force to be a reckoned with. She showed the entire nation that.
Ryder was happy to see his daughter living her best life during the pre-Games, but it ended so quickly for her, in an instant.
Every day went by in a blur for him. He couldn't control himself: he drank, and drank, and drank. By now, he knew that the alcohol couldn't fill the void: he'd been drinking long enough to know that. But it made the days go by faster. It made his brain, his heart relax, let go. It helped him sleep. It helped him with everything he did.
A knock on the door startled Ryder. This was unusual for this time of day. He released a groan, a long blink, and went to open the door, feeling annoyed.
On the other side, a woman dressed in black stared back at him. Those damn clothes, expensive-ass clothes, without a speck of dirt on them. A face full of make-up, even a small black parasol to make sure she doesn't get too hot.
"Where were you?" she asked him, "You missed your daughter's funeral!"
Ryder stared at the woman who had caused his great descent into the state she saw in front of him today. The man she left him for, checking a golden pocketwatch waiting for her. Damn money-grubbing bitch.
Ryder couldn't find it in himself to get angry at the woman who had robbed his daughter of everything.
"You missed her whole damn life," he told her, his voice ice cold. Daphne was going to argue, but she couldn't get a word out. He slammed the door in her face.
She yelled and pounded on the door, yelling his name, but he clicked the locks. He wanted nothing to do with her. After a little while longer, he left. He felt guilty to Arden, but he didn't need her fake guilt after she'd left him and done nothing for him or Arden.
He sat back down on the couch, feeling sleepy again as he cracked open another bottle.
This one's for you, baby girl.
~.~.
District 3
In memory of Jace Galillei, 9th Place
-Ari Hendrickson, Jace's Caretaker-
She had never seen so many Peacekeepers in such a small place before. Their face were covered with blacked out masks, but she could feel their beady little eyes on the group who just wanted to be together to mourn from their friend. It wasn't fair, that they had to be present in such a moment of vulnerability, and deep pain. Ari didn't want to show them weakness, because those sadistic bastards were there to see her cry. They were there to see her resolve smashed. They were there to see a group of people too broken to make a statement like they had done.
Perhaps it was because they were in Phil's home District that they were monitoring the people so closely. Their guns were loaded. They were waiting for someone to sing one wrong word. Waiting for them to say one thing about the Capitol. They were like lions, perched and ready to attack.
Ari protected her sister the entire time. Dori didn't seem too broken about Jace's death, but she was worried about the Peacekeepers, so she stayed close to Ari. Erwin had eyes on him, holding his young daughter close to him, obviously he was ready to do anything to protect her. The words were heartfelt, but the service felt cold, and curt, because they were being monitored, watched closely. Rose was silent: Ari could see in her eyes that she was fuming mad, but she stayed silent after the warning she'd gotten for speaking out at the reaping.
Ari felt lucky they were even able to have a funeral at that point. What were they going to take from the Districts next?
Compared to their first excursion with rich kids, the group now seemed so old and jaded. They were getting older: Rose preparing to turn twenty, Erwin a father, Ari stepping into the guardian position for Dory, who was growing every day. And Jace, far from the happy young person he'd used to be, having to grow and cope, become independent, and making it so far, farther than anyone expected. That Camellia girl was just bad news for him from the very beginning, and he was played. Ari didn't understand what the hell was in it for her: knocking him out and leaving him alone with the food, but perhaps she just wanted to make herself feel better. Ari would have far rather her sacrificed herself earlier for Jace, rather from her district partner she seemed to barely know.
Perhaps it was his death that drove her to a place that felt guilty enough to do it. She died alone, just like Jace, and Ari hated to say she deserved it. It wasn't her fault. She had to betray Jace if she wanted to live, and it was obvious how much he liked her. It wasn't like he was going to kill her. She just wanted to get home, until her end. But it wasn't her fault they had to be thrown in to fight like that.
Ari took a deep breath as she opened the door to their small flat for Dory, who went in without a word. Normal for her sister. At least she still had Dory. But who knew how quickly that could change.
Ari heard the click of her bedroom door, looking up in concern. She went in, walked to her sister's room, and quietly knocked on the door.
"Dory?" she could hear the sounds of her sister sobbing loudly through the door. She squeaked and yelled with tears, and Ari could hear the muffled screams that she was releasing into a pillow. Her heart broke as she went to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. She pushed her door open slowly. Dory was curled up into a ball, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry," she sobbed into her legs. "I'm so sorry Jace, I'm sorry…"
"You have nothing to apologize for," Ari whispered, putting the water on her dresser.
"I was a-fraid! I snuck around him! I… I…"
"Sh…" Ari held her little sister close. "It's not your fault…" her heart broke as Dory curled into her side, still sobbing and wailing and blubbering apologies.
"None of this is our fault," Ari said. She was only 13, but she deserved to have the truth. "It's theirs."
~.~.
In memory of Henley Dorset, 16th Place
-Horatio Boudreau, Henley's Mailman-
Every day was the same. Before, at least there was a little bit of excitement in his day: a little bit of happiness, a motivation to get the mail delivered quickly… Now it was back to putting mail in boxes. People sometimes smiled and waved, but that was all that they could do. Horatio tried to keep a smile on his face: he wasn't her father, after all, but at that point, he might as well have been.
Horatio opened the Dorset's mailbox and put in the small letter that was addressed to them. What a remarkable young lady once lived there. How he loved to bring her sticky buns and eat them with her. She always liked to talk about philosophy, the clever person that she was. She was mature for her age as well, a forward and deep thinker. She thrived putting words together in any situation, especially in a philosophical debate. She was unlike anyone that Horatio ever knew. Sure, she had seizures sometimes, but she had such potential ahead of her. Horatio didn't tell her, but he was sure she was going to end up in university someday, influence the world somehow…
He never imagined her fate would end like this. He smiled fondly, a tear forming in his eye, as he drove away from there. He had to go here every day, until he was ready to retire. And being a mail man, he didn't make enough that retirement was anywhere close to his future. He sighed quietly as he headed home, his mind wandering to all of the good memories. She was like a daughter to him. And based on what he saw: injuries that she claimed were from seizures, her exceptional maturity for her age, her reserved and quiet nature (especially around older men), he wondered if he was the only positive influence that she had.
A selfish part of Horatio hoped so. He wanted to claim her, and he wanted to be the one that she felt like she could go to in a fatherly way. He knew that it was selfish to wish that she didn't have anyone else, so he pushed away the thought. He was just glad to be there for her at all.
He went into his house, where his wife was waiting for him with a small smile. "Welcome home honey," she said with a small smile. "How was work?"
"Fine," he said with a small sigh. He took off his shoes and sat in his old rocking chair.
His wife only gave him a sad smile. She felt terrible for him after what happened.
Horatio reached over and picked up the picture of the smiling little girl, held by a much younger version of himself, as they were both smiling from cheek to cheek. Anna Lucia. His sweet daughter, stolen from him at the young age of six years old. She would have been fifteen today, just like Henley. In the girl on his delivery route, he found a daughter to replace the hole she left in his heart upon her death, and now she was gone too.
Horatio squeezed a tear out of his eye as the memories came back to him.
Now they were together.
~.~.
District 4
In memory of Kelwyn Murdock, 10th Place
-Brizo Wescott, Kelwyn's Cousin-
Her eighteenth birthday wasn't the same without him there to celebrate it. He was having fun in the Capitol at that time at least… It made it a little easier on her to know that much as she was celebrating with her friends and family. He was out there living their dream. Brizo couldn't hold up her part of the pact after losing her leg to a shark, but she knew he could do it.
Brizo, unlike some people, wasn't dumb enough to volunteer after such a life-changing injury. She knew her place, and often joked that Kelwyn had to win the Games twice, once for each of them. He was always a good sport about it, and it seemed to be the same in the Capitol.
She walked into the training Academy, where a group was sitting around, watching the Games.
"Hey Bri!" Varana hurried over to her friend with a wave, and Brizo smiled at her.
"Hey," she greeted, watching the trainees murmur to themselves at the action on the screen.
"Brizo!" Finn Redford, Kelwyn's future step-brother said, coming towards them. His father was going to propose to Kelwyn's mother, but decided to wait until Kelwyn came home from the Games so he could be there for it. He was smiling, but Brizo saw the worry in his face. He was never the same after the Games took his cousin.
"Hey Redford," Brizo said to him kindly.
"He's so close!" Kelwyn's best training buddy Lamar came over to them all, his face excited but mostly nervous. "Soon they'll be on their way here to our District, interviewing us! I'm sure since he was reaped, that Saeger will want in on the interviews," he said, grinning when talking about his younger brother.
Brizo's eye caught Styx, the young man that Kelwyn acted as a mentor to. He had a bruise on his face that worried Brizo, but he was only really comfortable with Kelwyn and kept his distance from the others.
"Nobody's watching without me, right?!" Avie, the last of Kelwyn's posse, hurried over, her face looking exhausted as she had barely slept. Brizo had heard of the flirting that was going on between them, but knew that Kelwyn didn't make a move as he was going to be in the Games. Brizo was so damn proud of her cousin.
"Definitely not," she said, smiling at them as they all found a seat. The moment Brizo's butt hit the floor, something went terribly wrong.
"No…" Celestia said on the screen. She saw the horror in Celestia's face as the note was shown to the audience. Russian Roulette…
Wait… No! What the hell was he doing!? Brizo watched as Kelwyn countered Celestia, convincing her to take the gun. Celestia watched in horror, and the once excited Academy was quiet as tears started to roll down Kelwyn's face as he told Celestia why he didn't deserve to win.
What the hell was he saying?! Brizo's eyes filled with tears as she saw her cousin in more pain than he'd ever been in before. Where was this coming from so suddenly!? Why did Brizo never know he felt this way.
"I always fail them and I thought for just one time maybe I could succeed." What are you saying?! "…No," he said. Celestia countered him, saying what Brizo was thinking.
"All that stuff has just been an act. I acted my ass off because I thought I deserved this Victory…"
"You do!" said Styx out loud, but Kelwyn shook his head, tears rolling down his face.
Brizo was completely blindsided as Celestia sadly took the gun, spun the chamber twice, and pulled the trigger. With a great explosion, the room was covered in the remains of Kelwyn's head, his body slumping as Celestia gasped in horror. The room was dead silent. Some of them blinked in shocks, others had tears in their eyes.
Brizo ran out of the room. She couldn't stand anyone's eyes on her. She was shocked, blindsided, but she knew where she had to go. Lyle.
She ran to the Murdock household, finding it greatly in disarray. His mother was crying, Mr. Redford's arms around her as she cried, shouting out, "My son! My son!" Nereida was curled up on the couch, grabbing a pillow and hugging it.
Brizo felt the first tears escape her eyes as she looked at them, no idea how to react.
"I HATE HIM!" the scream made Brizo wince as she heard something smashing in what used to be Kelwyn's room with a huge crash. "I HATE HIM!"
Brizo opened the door, seeing Lyle throwing things on the ground, smashing Kelwyn's things, looking in horror at the sight in front of her. She'd never seen him this bad in her life. Jordana and Redford hurried to his side at the crash, both of them looking terrified and not knowing what to do as Lyle screamed again and cried. They went in, physically restraining him from hurting himself, and Brizo felt another tear slide down her cheeks.
She was so hopeless.
What the fuck Kelwyn? What mess did you leave for us to clean up?
She looked at the broken family in front of her, all of them crying, all of them looking so helpless and completely shocked.
What are we going to do?!
~.~.
In memory of Willie Kasteros, 17th Place
-Uriah Fellmore, Willie's Friend-
Dammit Willie. Uriah could see the determination in her eyes as she decided to drink that suspicious liquid. Viola told the audience that there was a 50/50 chance of it being poison or an energy boost. Willie seemed confident in the odds, despite not knowing them. Uriah was confident in her judgement: but he knew that was a mistake. Willie was such a bull-head sometimes, and Uriah hoped that maybe, just for the Hunger Games, she would put that aside and try to work with the rest of the group. It seemed optimistic at first, at least from the footage they showed of the Careers. They seemed diplomatic: and of all of them, Willie was the only one with a loose fuse. Uriah was worried about that explosive part of her personality, but it seemed that she managed it well.
She did what she had to, and the others seemed too nice. It was just a momentary lapse in judgement on her part, but he was now left completely alone because of her stubbornness.
Uriah had trained with enough tributes that he knew what made them and what broke them. He honestly thought that Willie had the most strengths, but the least weaknesses. He thought she was a shoe-in for the title, and he knew her. She was like his little sister, and he would never be dishonest with her about her chances. He really, truly, believed that she was going to win.
He didn't even stop to think about what he would do if she died.
And then she did.
Uriah was still reeling in shock. He never expected to see her body like this. The fire, put out. No words came from her mouth, no defiance left in her. Her body was completely still, totally devoid of all passion, all fight, all drive, all emotions. She would forever lay here, still and cold. And soon, she would be buried in the ground, under the sands of the ocean, forever gone, but not forgotten. Uriah would be sure of that. When he wanted to, he could be just as fiery as she was. And right now, he owed it to her.
Her friends, Dinah and Genevieve, approached the casket just then, each of them gasping in horror, shrieking with tears at the sight. Willie was never this pale, never still even when she was asleep. It was a picture straight from all of their worst nightmares.
Uriah didn't know much how to comfort them: ultimately, he knew that he couldn't.
Adelaide, Willie's mother, didn't cry at seeing her daughter, instead clinging to Mina, her sister, who was trying to keep the tears away and swallowed a lump in her throat. Willie often talked about how Mina was the favorite child, and it was obvious to Uriah now that they were all together in one place. Her father Fenre looked much more resigned and upset, even losing a tear or two as he saw his daughter laying still. It was obvious that he was proud of her. At least she had that much going for her.
They all took their seats, but Uriah kept looking at Willie as people were talking, all of them watched by Peacekeepers that stood in the back of the room.
You stubborn bull, he thought, his eyes filling with tears for the first time since it happened.
But there was nothing he could have done.
~.~.
District 5
In memory of Owen O'Connor, 2nd Place
-Cerulean Elpharae, Owen's Ally-
He felt his hands shaking from nerves. When would he not feel so afraid? He often hung out with the other Victors: Helen was learning sign language alongside Ceru, and they often practiced together. Ceru always felt good when he was able to teach Helen something new, either about signing or about the Deaf experience. Helen was so patient, always happy to learn…
He tried to smile, thinking about those memories, but with where he was going, it was hard to smile.
No. You made this promise to Owen. He was a man of his word. He wasn't going to let down his friend.
The train stopped, and Ceru suddenly wished it hadn't. A brigade of Peacekeepers followed Ceru everywhere he went now. He could try to forget about them as he couldn't hear their footsteps, but he couldn't forget the stares he received by the poor, innocent people that were obviously afraid. Ceru hated the idea of anyone being afraid of him: well, except for those assholes that wanted to hurt his friends. He hoped they feared him.
The Peacekeepers flanked around him as he went to the largest hospital in the District. The doors slid open in front of him, and the Peacekeepers stopped there. He could never tell if they were talking to him, as their faces were covered so he couldn't see their lips. Sometimes, he wondered if that was meant to be a power play by the people in charge.
"Right this -," the lady standing by said. She turned away from him before he could hear the last word, but Ceru could fill it in. He followed her, quietly looking back and forth, around the room, the bright lights that made him squint as they walked forward. The nurse pushed open a door, and Ceru swallowed a nervous lump in his throat at the sight of the woman he'd only ever seen on screens before, now in person. Ceru wanted to run away, not sure he was ready to face the person whose son he'd killed…
Ceru didn't hear her address him, but looked up to see her looking at him expectantly, a huge smile on her face as she held out her arms from the bed.
"Hi," he said quietly, still standing in the doorway.
"Well don't be a stranger!" she crossed the room to hug Ceru, still smiling hugely. Ceru realized too late what was going on. "How much you've grown!" she said, taking his face in her hands. Her eyes somehow looked both innocent and jaded. Ceru was sure her voice sounded the same. She had something in her expression, in the way her lips moved, that was childlike. And yet, he could tell she had been through so much just by one look into her face.
"You were gone so long! Where were you again? I feel it was something important…" her expression suddenly went blank for a moment as she searched, strained her memory, and nothing came to her.
Ceru stuttered out nervously. "W-w-we w-were in the Hung-ger Games. But, m-ma'am-"
She was talking again, he could see her lips moving but he couldn't figure out what she was saying without knowing any context. She reached over and squeezed his cheeks again, the happiness in her face was evident.
"The Hunger Games… Sorry hun, I keep forgetting." Her face darkened as she closed her eyes and rubbed her temples with her fingers. The pain in her face, and the embarrassment at not being able to remember, was so evident.
"It's okay," he said. "But-"
Nope, she was talking again. Ceru knew she wasn't interrupting on purpose: she didn't even know that he was deaf, because she still thought he was Owen! Ceru caught the word doctors, trying to follow along with her. She was particularly flighty, though, looking around the room as she spoke, not to mention the fact that her sentences weren't exactly coherent, so Ceru had an even harder time following her. He could feel his face heating up, with embarrassment for not following with her, shame, and worry. How am I ever going to take care of her for him? It was going to be far more difficult than he thought.
He thought he would be alright because they gave him closed captions for when he watched the interviews, and they cut the parts that were just incoherent babbling… Now, Ceru felt completely helpless without a way to understand what it was she was saying to him.
She seemed in her own world, not even noticing that Ceru was feeling this way. It was like she was talking to no one.
The door opened, and another doctor walked in. She talked, but she was facing Mrs. O'Connor so Ceru could barely read what she was saying. Linn stood up and hugged him again, and he could feel her chin moving on his back, she was talking, but he had no idea what she was saying. She brought his head down to kiss his forehead, and smiled sadly.
"I love you," she said, looking at him with wide, expectant eyes.
"I… Love you too," Ceru said, ashamed for not telling her the truth, but not knowing how to lie to her. She looked towards the door, and it was obvious that it was time for Ceru to leave. He did so, walking back to the train, watching his feet, unaware of the world around him… When he got on the train, he didn't know it would start moving until it lurched forward, almost startling him.
He was alone.
For the first time since the Games, Ceru felt like that little deaf boy again. The one that was always interrupted, always out of the loop, not knowing what was going on, not speaking his mind… Simply following through the motions of what was expected of him. Tears rolled down Ceru's cheeks. That wasn't what mattered to him. Sure, that was a shitty feeling, but what was worse was that he'd failed. He hadn't done anything to care for her… He allowed her to keep deluding that Owen was still alive! How was he possibly going to tell her? And how was he going to tell her that he killed Owen?
Tears rolled down his face.
I'm so sorry Owen… He failed.
…But I'm never going to give up.
~.~.
In memory of Rammie Carnel, 15th Place
-Violet McKinley, Rammie's Coworker-
Please God… No…
She held herself, pacing around the bathroom, waiting, waiting for each second to tick by. It was absolute agony. She felt sick: perhaps it was because of what she was waiting to hear about, or maybe it was from the nerves of waiting to hear about it. Please… She didn't know who she was praying to, as if any of that mumbo jumbo mattered now. What mattered right now was that that test only gave her one line. Please, one line.
She collapsed to her knees over the same toilet she'd just used for the test. She felt like she was going to vomit. She closed her eyes, retching, but nothing came out. She had already puked out the contents of her stomach this morning. There was nothing left.
Violet felt woozy all the same though, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths. In through her mouth, out through her nose. All of this wondering would be over soon.
She looked back at the clock again, and knew that now would be the time to look. Whatever it said would seal her fate.
Violet closed her eyes for a moment. Rip off the band aid, Violet. At this point, she had no other choice.
She looked down and two lines stared back at her.
No. It was true. Plan B didn't work. She was pregnant.
Violet wasn't a woman of many tears, so she calmly put the test in the trash can. Her mind was whizzing with thoughts, but she couldn't afford to pass out here worrying about them. She just had to act normal, act normal until she came up with a plan, hopefully before she started showing. That might be effective for home, but for work… God, what was going to happen to her job? She had nowhere to go: she was young, scrappy, homeless, her family was damned to the Smog. That was no place for her to raise a child.
Violet sighed. She had no choice… She wasn't about to get a bill for hospital dues slapped on her. She wasn't about to risk it with a coat hanger. She valued herself too much for any of that shit.
She kept her head down as she went out to her family's small hut in the Smog, ignoring the comments from her jerk older sisters as she went. They were surely going to have a cow if they found out.
Violet wandered aimlessly, past the towering houses, and ended up at a doorstep she didn't expect to be at. What was even the point of this? She knocked on the door.
One of the familiar men she'd met at Rammie's funeral opened the door. His face looked confused.
"Good morning," said Violet, doing everything to keep herself from appearing weak in front of him.
"Oh, you're… Rammie's friend." She could tell from the tone of his voice that he didn't think that was true.
"Can I please come in?" asked Violet.
"Scott is probably working right now. What is it you need?"
Violet hated to say it here, worried that a wandering ear will bring it back home to her family. "I'm pregnant. It's Rammie's." Violet McKinley didn't grovel: but her eyes were filled with desperation. Desperation that these men would help her. Maybe they would take their grandbaby and raise it in a loving household. Maybe they would have a different idea for some way to save her child's life.
Martin's eyes widened, staring into her face to see if she was just messing with him. Violet couldn't meet his gaze, embarrassed to be asking for help.
He gave her a small frown, and nodded at her, stepping aside from the door.
"Please, come in."
~.~.
District 6
In memory of Elliot Russo, 12th Place
-Lenore Hess, Elliot's Ex Girlfriend-
She was glad he was dead.
Part of her wasn't: part of her was completely devastated, trying to figure out what the hell she was going to do. Not about Elliot. Slimy bastard had it coming to him. But she didn't know what she was going to do. That stupid Jansing girl was a problem from the very beginning. She was a little mole: she always seemed to be where he was, waiting patiently to latch onto him like a maggot. Lenore had to keep her under a watchful eye. She hadn't been there through the process of Elliot taking for fucking ever to get anywhere close to fame, and she wasn't about to reap the rewards of it that were rightfully Lenore's.
Jillianne wasn't the one that stayed up late to motivate him to practice, she wasn't the one that built his street cred up from the ground, she wasn't the one that pushed Elliot further and further, making him a better musician and brining him closer to making it in the big time. Through all of the tough moments, who was there for him?! Lenore. And she sacrificed so much of her own livelihood to get him there. It wasn't fair that this Jill girl got to reap the rewards of all of Lenore's hard work. He would have been nothing without her, nothing! And he knew it.
It wasn't fair that he was reaped. He had his chance to be famous, but Lenore didn't get her chance to enjoy the reward that she earned. Instead, she got the opposite: humiliated on live television, in front of the entire nation, dumped on live television even though Lenore made Elliot. He had no idea what he was leaving. Lenore was sure he was already groping that Jansing girl behind her back. Destroying his own image because he was so damn incompetent that he couldn't even follow her simple as hell instructions.
She was trying to help him catch his dreams, he should be thanking her. He should have been busting his ass with that Jansing guy he was gay for to make sure he moved his ass back to District Six to take care of her in his absence.
But no. That ungrateful bastard slandered everything that Lenore sacrificed for him, humiliated her with a big lipstick stain on his cheek from the privileged bitch that finally decided to capitalize on her privilege just to finish driving the wedge in between Lenore and her hard work.
She was flaming with rage. She wanted to find that Jansing whore so Lenore could tell her who was boss. Elliot was hers, he had always been hers. It wasn't fair.
When she walked into the party, all eyes were on her, just as usual. But instead of seeing her with Elliot, the well-known musician (thanks to Lenore), their faces were judgmental. They acted like she was sick and going to infect everyone. It was humiliating! And it was all his fault.
Rest in pieces, you little son of a bitch. How badly she hoped that Slut Jansing withered away without her Prince Charming. Bitch.
Alyx and Gino, who had once kissed the ground Lenore (and Elliot) walked on, but now, they would move away from her, always trying to stay at a distance. Everyone seemed to. She tried to strike conversation with the scene, find some hot guys to try and clear her mind, but nobody would bite, and it was all his damn fault. She couldn't fucking deal with this. She had to find a way to get back on top of her scene, find someone else with more talent than Elliot had, and get the life of fame and wealth that she deserved for all the work she did.
"Hey." Someone talking to her?! He looked like a zombie, and Lenore knew she could do better than this scrub. "You seem down. I have something that can make you the life of the party."
Life of the party. Could this be he way to get back on top of the totem pole?
He held out a small baggy of colorful tablets. "They feel good going down and better in about ten minutes."
Lenore felt like she had no other choice. She took the bag and poured its contents in her hands.
She was going to escape the feeling, she was going to show them how much fun she was.
She consumed the tablets and swallowed the powdery contents in one go.
~.~.
In memory of Haleigh Noheg, 6th Place
-Carla Noheg, Harleigh's Nanny-
She had died without knowing the truth. Not that she had cared, but she never even got the chance to hear the truth. Carla had tried so hard, she had pushed down every suspicion of the twins' she had distracted her and put out her flames of hope. And now, Harleigh was gone. She was dead. Carla lost her to the Hunger Games, which she had never believed could touch either of her children.
Now, Davidson was left. He cared so much about his parents, he always asked questions, had suspicions… Carla felt that he deserved to know the truth. Harleigh deserved to know it too, but… Carla just couldn't stand the thought of telling it to her, even with how Harleigh advocated for single mothers and other strong women in her life.
But… after being raised not knowing the truth… Maybe it would be too different to have them know.
Not to mention the fact that they were such smart kids: they would definitely do the math. They would know that Carla fell pregnant when she was only 20 years old. They would know that their father discarded her, left her alone with those babies, they would know that she was incompetent to being a mother. Carla had too much pride to allow her children to know that truth about her.
They would know that they were an accident, that Carla had to put her life on them, that she didn't have much of a choice. How would that affect how they saw themselves and their role in the world? They would seem themselves as burdens on Carla, mistakes. But they weren't that. Carla loved to be their guardian, and she wouldn't have traded her twins for the world. How could she possibly convey that to them?
To him?
But now, the guilt was crushing to Carla. She couldn't stand the fear that Davidson would also never get to know the truth, when he deserved to hear it from Carla, rather than try to put it together like a mystery, like a puzzle. Somehow, Carla knew she was going to have to swallow her pride…
By all means, Harleigh and Davidson should have put together the truth. They were all three spitting images of each other. But they trusted Carla when she told them the fake story of how she wanted to be a mother and chose the twins from the other babies that surrounded them because she loved them so much. They trusted her, and she lied to them.
And now her daughter was dead.
Davidson was coping so beautifully with his sister's death. Carla knew that Harleigh was a little jealous of all the friends he had from school, but now that she was gone, Carla was sure she was glad that Davidson had people that supported him in his grief that weren't her mother. He needed that group of peers to healthily and safely say what he was feeling. He needed to be with people who hadn't lied to him his entire life.
Now, though, Davidson was sitting by himself, eating popcorn and watching one of those ridiculous programs on the three channels that they got on their television. All those silly colorful people, singing songs and being buzzed and criticized by horrendously underqualified judges. Definitely a rereun, as he seemed to know what was going to happen. She smiled and shook her head, a little glad that he hadn't become cynical, that somehow he had retained his joy for living.
"Davidson?"
He looked up at her voice. "What's up?" he asked, sounding cheerful.
"I need to talk to you. Can you mute that for a moment?"
He obeyed her. It was obvious how loyal he was to her, how he wanted to please her. "What's up?"
"This is… Serious. It's about your birth parents."
Davidson's eyes widened. "Have you heard from them?" he asked.
Carla gave him a sad smile, sitting next to him on the couch. "No…" he frowned, and Carla felt like she was going to chicken out again. She couldn't. She had to do this. "I'v elide to you, Davidson," she said quietly, looking away from him. "You and Harleigh were always right. I am your birth mother."
Davidson let out a small audible gasp, staring at her with wide eyes. "What? But… Why…"
"I'm so sorry I lied," she said quietly, her eyes filling with tears. "I was ashamed of myself, for being such a young mother, for conceiving on a one-night-stand. I was too afraid that you would feel like a burden if you knew the truth. You're not a burden and you've never been. I didn't want you to feel guilty on my behalf." She took her son's hands. "I hope you can forgive me someday. I chose to be your mother. I couldn't give you up. And going back, I would raise my twins all over again."
A rare tear went down Davidson's cheek. "oh… I…"
Suddenly, the TV's volume was blaring, a seal appearing that signified required viewing. What?!
The headline scrolled around on the bottom of the screen as the young reporter announced.
"President Blossius has been assassinated. More details to come-"
"The President!?" squeaked Davidson, exchanging a look of shock with his mother.
The screen was cut off, and suddenly a man in a Peacekeeper uniform threw the dead body of the President on the ground in front of the presidential podium, where he put the gun back on his hip and took off his helmet to reveal a face that Carla knew too well.
Their father.
Cornelius Junius spoke into the microphone. "Pilotheos Blossius has not done enough about the rebel threat to this country," he said into the microphone. "He was willing to cooperate with them. We, the military, are not. All traitorous activity puts our people in danger, and will immediately be silenced. We are taking control of this country until peace returns to our people, effective immediately!"
Davidson's eyes were as wide as golf balls, and Carla was sure that hers were wider. "I-" she started, but she couldn't get out a single sentence, not even a word, she was so shocked.
"First order of business," he said, his words spitting out of his mouth like fire as he gave a nation of terrified people a glare through the camera. "Though they may look like us, District-born citizens are all the same no matter where they come from. Traitors." It was obvious he was talking about Numitor from that after the broadcast. "Even if you live in the Capitol, you are not one of us. You are going to the reaping." The crowd gathered there, many of them in uniforms, cheered. "We will not stand for any traitorous behavior. We will make a better nation, we will get through this together, and we will protect our people from further death and war. Be on the right side of history. Denounce this pointless defiance and violence. Save this nation from war. We, your military, will ensure that this nation remains peaceful. Now. Under my guidance as Head Commander, this nation will come together against the rebel threat of war and death."
The program clicked off, muted again like before, both Carla and Davidson's faces frozen in shock.
"Who was that?!" he squeaked.
Carla bit her lip nervously, nervous about what this meant for the future of the country, nervous about what would happen to Davidson if something went wrong…
How could she possibly tell him the truth?
~.~.
A/N: District epilogues out of the way! Hurrah! And now we have a new heaping tablespoon of subplot! What does this mean for Out of Spite!? What does this mean for Wolf and the rest of those that were part of UV? What does this mean for the future of the nation?
CQ: Which of these epilogues stood out to you and why? Lame question, but fight me.
And with this chapter, I'm officially opening the RETURNING escort form! If you have an escort from Whims of Fate that you'd like to continue into the sequel, Sons of Light, please fill out this form! You get first priority until the new escort form opens so check my profile to find the link to that form if you want your escort to return!
After next chapter, the tribute form will open for the sequel to this story, Sons of Light! Can't wait to get that form up and have all of your wonderful tributes coming on in! Can't wait to see what you all come up with! But that's for next chapter.
See you soon with the next chapter!