A/N THIS SYOT IS NOW CLOSED! Finally! Five prologues are too many. But seriously, everyone. At first, submissions were crazy slow. I thought there was something was wrong with me. But then, after the previous prologue, submissions flooded in. I had to turn away so many… Why did y'all wait until now?
The tribute list is here… but please don't skip this chapter. It really destroys the point of me writing it. Also, the blog is on my multipurpose website for the Ecclesiastes-verse: ecclesiastesverse. weebly. com
There is a drop down titled "Tributes" and the Navigation Bar as well as a link from the homepage; you shouldn't have any problems finding the tributes.
So… here is the last prologue.
Joann Hewn, 17, District Eight
Close Friend of Zash Kamzoil, Deceased District Eight Male in the 998th Games
I walk up to the Laundromat, carrying a huge bag full of dirty laundry with both hands, and stop before the door. Zash worked here. His family owns this place. It's been about half a year since I set foot in this place, but I know it's been too long. I can't avoid it forever. I have to heal. Now, I just have to figure out how to open the door without using my hands. Maybe I'll use my thigh to support the bag, freeing up a hand. It's a little wobbly at first, so I stop to regain my balance. Next, the door…
All of the sudden, I lose my balance, and I grab the doorknob to keep from falling. "Ah!" I shout as the bag of clothes falls out of my hands and onto the dirty ground, spilling the contents everywhere. Oh, come on! If Zash were here, he'd tease me about it. I hated it back then, but now, I'd give anything for him to tease me. One year ago, I never thought I'd miss that. I crouch and try to stuff all the now even dirtier clothes back into the bag.
The door opens, and Vlad, who used to work with Zash, crouches beside me and helps me put the clothes back in the bag.
"Thanks," I say, "It's been a while."
"Yeah," he says, "Why don't you come here anymore?"
"I- I just couldn't take it. It reminded me too much of Zash."
"Well, I'm glad you're here today," he says.
I try to smile. "Me too. I was just going to drop off these clothes and go, though."
"Can't you stay?" he says, "I'm sure that Mrs. Kamzoil would love to see you. She's been really quiet and closed off."
"Wow, it's that bad?" I say. Vlad usually isn't the most attentive when it comes to emotions. If he noticed, it must be serious. Or maybe he got a social life.
He nods.
"Okay, then" I agree, "I have a few minutes."
He opens the door for me, and we walk into the Laundromat. It's a lot dirtier than I remember it.
"I'll take the clothes," Vlad says.
Mrs. Kamzoil is at Zash's usual spot. When she sees me, she comes out from behind the counter and wraps her skinny arms around me. It is serious. Has she been eating?
"It's so good to see you!" she says.
"Yeah, it is," I say.
"We've really missed you!" she beams, "How have you been?" She wears a genuine smile on her face as if she really cared about my life. I wish my parents were like that.
"I've been fine," I say, trying to avoid bringing up Zash. She needs a break from grieving. "Thanks. It's been a bit busy, but that's good. How about you?"
"We've been surviving," she says, her voice becoming softer, "It's hard sometimes, but we manage."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" I say, the words spilling out before I have time to think about it.
"It's fine."
"Are you sure?" I say, "You know what? I'll make dinner for you tomorrow night."
"I don't want us to be a bother…"
"It's no problem. My brother got promoted to manager, so we have a little extra now. Please, I want to help."
She sighs and smiles at me. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate you coming over today."
I look at my watch. I've been here longer than I should have. At least my parents won't care. "I'm sorry, I really have to go. I'll see you tomorrow!"
She wipes at her eyes. "Goodbye."
"Bye!"
Miracle Francis, 17, District Ten
Girlfriend of Angus Derwin, Deceased District Ten Male in the 998th Hunger Games
I watch the sky from my spot behind our food stall in the midst of District Ten's famous central street market. Sunset is coming, and soon, this'll be the night market. The clouds slowly move across the sky, like the passing of time. Sometimes, it feels like time goes by slowly, but once it passes, it's gone. Other times, time goes by too quickly. That's how I feel right now.
It feels like yesterday when Angus found me crying in the park. I still remember what he was wearing: a brown coat and dirty jeans with a hole over the left knee. He loved those jeans; he didn't care that there was a hole. He helped me get over my brother's death in the 996th Hunger Games. Little did I know that the Games would also claim his life. If only I had known, I would've valued our time more. Did I ever take him for granted? Did I make the most of the little time we had? What would it have been like if he never volunteered? I like to think that we would get married and live out the rest of our lives together. I can't do anything but wonder now.
"Honey?" my mom says, placing a hand on my shoulder, "Are you okay?"
I'm jolted out of my thoughts. "Yes, why?"
"You've been staring at that cloud for over five minutes."
"Oh, I have?" I laugh nervously. "I- I didn't know."
"Are you sure you're okay? I can take over. You go take a break. Take a walk in the park. Have some time alone?"
I think about it for a moment. "That actually sounds nice," I say, "Are you sure?"
"Yes," she says, giving me a hug, "Now you go take a break."
"Thanks, Mom."
She smiles, and I go inside to get my coat. It's pretty windy today, though you can't really feel it unless you go to a wide-open area such as the park.
When I get there, it's a little chilly. Winter is ending here is District Ten, and flowers are beginning to bloom. This was Angus' favorite time of year. He loved the soft grass and the delicate flowers. He always picked a few daffodils, those were his personal favorite. I pick a few, just for him. When I get to the bench where we always sat, I find a tall man wearing a big overcoat and a hat that shades his face. He looks up and tilts his hat up for just a moment. It's Mayor Derwin, Angus' dad.
"Hello, Mira," he says.
"Hey, Mayor-"
"Please, drop the 'Mayor,' you would've become family at some point. And sit down; I'd feel bad if I let you stand." He talks just like Angus did. I blink back a tear.
I try to smile. "So… what are you doing here?"
He hesitates.
"Oh," I say, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"
"No, it's okay," he says, "I used to bring Angus here when he was little. He loved this place, and when he was really small, he would whine if I tried sitting at some other bench."
"Of course," I say, looking around at the huge swaths of daffodils surrounding the bench. "He loves daffodils."
"Yes, he does."
I sit awkwardly, both of us unsure of what to say.
"You know?" he says, "Time went by so quickly. One moment he was a hyper toddler, and now…" he doesn't finish his sentence.
"I kinda get that feeling," I say.
"It makes me wonder," he says. I think I hear him choking back tears, too. I can't tell, though; the hat covers his face. "Did I give him enough of my time, or was I too preoccupied with my job? Did I raise him well?"
"I can't answer for you," I say, "But I think he turned out well. He was… so selfless. He must've had a great role model."
"I wish," he says, getting up, "I can't stay. But if you ever need anything, give me a call. I'll do my best."
"T- thanks," I say as he hurries away.
I think we could heal.
Question: Look at the POVs from this chapter and the previous one. What do they have in common (other than having relationships to dead tributes)? Is Joseph doing something with this? What is it? Or am I just trying to get y'all to overthink this?
Now, here's what y'all have been waiting for. It's the tribute list!
Tribute List:
D1M: Onyx Avington, 18
D1F: Splendor Boucher, 18
D2M: Slate Valour, 18
D2F: Animata Deeksha, 18
D3M: Render Axum, 17
D3F: Apple Kesari, 17
D4M: Delmar Martin Jr., 16
D4F: Harbor Douglass, 17
D5M: Aaron Aileen Jr., 18
D5F: Raffaella Silva, 17
D6M: Diesel Wing, 18
D6F: Christina Ford, 17
D7M: Pembroke Thompson, 17
D7F: Minisa Amaral, 18
D8M: Serge Foulard, 17
D8F: Taffeta Mitchell, 15
D9M: Allio Spottedberg, 13
D9F: Ryzee Fleet, 15
D10M: Kaleb Sirius, 16
D10F: Deborah Merlyn, 17
D11M: Tyson Yarrow, 18
D11F: Clover Forney, 16
D12M: Ezra Robins, 18
D12F: Keesa Ambel, 15
A blog review (where you go to the blog and comment on all the tributes in one big review) will be greatly appreciated! Keep in mind that I changed a lot of things, such as ages, faceclaim picture, quotes, and sometimes the KDWE. I told you I was giving myself the power to change things without asking for permission. So, keep in mind that if something is on the blog, it's because I approved it.
Finally, I may be gone for a little bit as I go on a vacation with my family. I'll also need some time to plan.
Thank you to all that submitted, and I apologize if you didn't make it in.
See y'all!
~Joseph