Movement II: I Shall Hear in Heaven
~Dawson: Six of Hearts~
Crying.
It's just another normal night of having a baby.
I roll out of bed to tend to my brother. Nowadays, my Mom isn't usually well enough to get up at the wee hours of the morning, and Dad will just sleep through it. That's fine, though. I really don't mind taking care of my siblings, in fact, I really like it.
By the time I get to the crib, though, Dad is there.
…That's new.
"Stop crying, dammit," he mumbles, holding the baby. Eventually I see Mom in the doorway, watching, which makes the scene twice as abnormal.
"It won't stop," groans Dad. "Why did you think it was so important to have another?"
"You know it wasn't planned," whispers Mom, "But once he was there I wasn't going to terminate him. He's our child."
"Then why is his hair black?" Dad asks, roughly tousling the black fuzz on Gaylen's head, "Neither of us are dark-haired."
"You think I know the whole genetic makeup of our families?"
"Unfaithful." The word comes out as a low, bitter grumble. I mean, everything my Dad said he grumbled, but this is particularly cold and sends chills down my spine.
"I am not unfaithful." It was retorted with such a bitter tone I just slid behind the corner. I don't want to see this explode, but I have to be there if things get too intense. There's a blur of angry whispers, their words lost to Gaylen's crying, and an angry Sadie appears beside me.
"Go back to bed," I tell her. Whatever's happening, it's severe. Even I know that.
"But Daaaaawson-"
"Go back to bed." Suddenly, we hear a shout.
"Take your goddamn bastard child! I've had enough of this!" The door slams behind him as he leaves.
I don't think he's coming back...
After a pause as the initial shock fades away.
I peek back into the room. Mom quiets Gaylen, looking at the door. Soon, the entire house si sent into a horrifying, tense, palpable silence. I don't hear anyone breathing or snoring, nobody says anything. Mom just stares blankly at the door, her eyes going nowhere else. Slowly in the silence, I pick Sadie up, whispering to her while trying to keep my voice steady, shielded from the grief and fear and sadness.
"Come on. We have to go back to bed."
The colors bend and soon the scene changes again.
.
Hugging.
So much fucking hugging.
Soon, I find myself in a tight hug. Definitely not the first one I've gotten today. This one is different, though, because it's a Joanne hug. I don't ever want to let go.
Tears pour out of my eyes. Every time I accidentally look at the casket with the body inside, the tears come back. She was too young for this.
I don't know what happened.
After giving birth to Gaylen she fell ill, but she was still able to function. After Dad left, though, her wellness took a plummet and before I knew it I was kneeling at her deathbed. She was such a good woman, a kind and tender person, and this was her fate.
I was hoping Dad would come back for us after hearing the news, but he didn't. He never will.
Joanne lets go of me (too soon) and soon Wye appears, hugging me tightly, so tight I can't really breathe but I don't really care. His support means more right now than air.
"What are you going to do?" he asks quietly.
"I don't know..." I wish I knew… No, I wish I didn't have to decide. I wish someone would come for us.
Wye lets go of me and wipes his eyes. It's comforting to know that at least I'm not the only one crying. Joanne and my aunt have been crying on and off. My other cousins have shed tears, too.
I accidentally glance at the body again and let out a sob. Wye hugs me again and lets me cry into his neck.
"Where's Gaylen?" he asks, trying to change the subject to make it easier on me. If only it would.
"My uncle's got him," I sniffle, voice breaking a bit.
"Can I take him?" I nod a bit. He goes off to get him.
I turn away from the casket. I can't stand to look.
Soon, Wye comes back with the baby in tow.
"Wye-lla," Gaylen coos quietly, "Wye-lla."
Wye actually laughs a little bit, but it doesn't last very long before more tears appear in his eyes. "I'm so sorry this happened to you," he says quietly, tears rolling down his cheeks.
I sniffle and wipe my cheeks, only for more tears to come.
"Yeah. So am I."
.
When I wake up that morning, all is silent. The sky is dark with the forms of clouds, and the sun hasn't yet risen. The breeze is gentle and cool. The leaves only rustle periodically and gently. The noises of the night creatures have silenced, but the birds and rats are still sleeping.
I sit up and crack my back, feeling a suddenly intense stinging.
Fuck, I'm injured. Yeah, I kind of forgot about that. It sucks.
Things are going to become a lot more difficult now that Tuesday left and I'm injured. I will honestly never forgive Tuesday for just leaving like that. If she wasn't going to do her part, why did she even join us?
Silly question, Dawson. It's all a part of the Game. Yeah, I know.
I know that technically nobody around me can fully be trusted, not even Krissa. But… I'm still pretty pissed off. Yeah, this is the Hunger Games, but… There has to be some kind of ethical code there… Right?
I try to play fair, but of course I'm not treated with the same respect. It just pisses me off so much that Tuesday would just… Leave. So easily, just… Abandon us.
Part of me wants to use that rage to fight and kill, but the other part is actually rational. I'm the youngest tribute left at 15, even if I like to think I'm not the weakest. Even if my injury sucks ass and drains me, at least I can half-function.
Part of me wishes I'd just killed Tristabelle. There were so many times that I could've done it, or at least gotten close. The other part is relieved I spared her. It's all about character. It's just not in my character to kill. Even if Tristabelle was ready to kill me, I just couldn't make myself move.
Sometimes when the scene replays in my head I feel like I let my family and friends down. After all, the want: no, they need: me to get home to them, and to get home, I'll have to take lives… I hope they don't think I'm giving up on them…
No. Wye and my cousins and my siblings are good people. They wouldn't think I would give up on them. They know me well enough to know that I don't believe in that.
Because you know what? I'm fucking sick of being given up on. My whole life I've been given up on, and that is not okay with me. My teachers gave up on me from day one. Nobody wanted to help me because I didn't learn well in school. I was "dumb" from the time I was six, in the dumb class with all the other dumb kids. Even if I asked for help, they saw me as nothing more than another dumb kid.
I really tried, but I could never do it. I couldn't learn from books, I couldn't listen when a teacher droned on and on about whatever, I just couldn't. I'd try to pay attention but before I knew it, I'd be zoned out drawing without being aware of it and a teacher would hit the ruler of my desk and yell, "Fowler!" I can't help the fact that sometimes words mesh together and I just… Can't. Wish I could explain it to you, but I can't.
Not to mention that my father gave up on me, and on all of us, when he left. I'll never forget the day, and I'll never stop having nightmares about it.
Sadie gave up on me, too. She gave up believing in my skills as a brother.
And, of course, for a period of time after Mom died, I gave up on myself. And I'll never forgive me for that. Gaylen and Sadie always needed me, and me giving up wasn't fair to them. Wye always said to not worry about it, but it's not okay.
I'm never giving up on me again, not after that dark time. I hate talking about it. I was so disconnected with everything.
I bounce my leg while I wait for Krissa to wake up. I'm pretty nervous as the time ticks on and on. I run my hands across the cuts that Tristabelle left on me. Even if it hurts, it serves as something to do. She wakes up and stretches, cringing a bit when she stretches out her injury. It's still not great, really. My shirt's still tied around it though we've changed out the bandages a couple times.
"Morning." Translation? A very bitter, "I hope you don't betray me too." ;kjlkjl
"Are you alright?" she must hear my tone.
"Fine. Just… Pissed about Tuesday." I sigh a bit. "It's dumb but I can't help it. I'm pissed. Lucky you were there to help get her off of me. We definitely couldn't talk her out of it." I offered to let her join us, to help her out, but she wouldn't have it.
She looked at me with dark eyes and said, "Fucking Incompetent. Have you not learned the instability of your friendships?!" Then Krissa finally threw her off of me and started (though hesitantly) with the knife and Tristabelle finally retreated.
"Dawson." I look over.
"Huh?" See, just like school. Sometimes I dive into my thoughts so deeply I don't notice other people.
"Thinking about yesterday?"
"Yeah. It sucks ass. I'm still pissed."
"Don't worry about it. We'll just have to keep going."
"Yeah, yeah." I'm still a little bit spacey but start collecting our stuff anyways. Again, something to do until anything happens. We eat the last of our provisions for breakfast, and agree to try for a successful hunt tonight for dinner. Then, well, we don't have much to do. Krissa falls back asleep and I stay awake to keep watch. I pace around, making sure all is in order. I blow up the floaties I got from a sponsor and deflate them. I take a leaf off a tree and peel it. I tie my shoes and untie them.
I tap my fingers together, waiting for something to happen. Krissa wakes up again, rubbing her eyes and sitting up.
"Morning."
"Hi."
Suddenly, the ground starts to shake.
~.~.
~Pontifex: King of Spades~
I sleep dreamlessly that night, for once. I have to say, it's been a while since I've been awakened peacefully, especially with all the shit that's come my way, but I really appreciate it.
"Morning Ponty," Janie says. I've just given up fighting it now. Really, there are plenty worse things to be called than Ponty. Dare I say, it's even kind of… Cute. I'll take that one to my grave, though, no matter how close or far away it might be.
I stretch and crack my back as Dream blinks awake.
Who knows what the day will have in store? I think the real question is, who wants to know? Certainly not me.
After a successful hunt, we come back with breakfast. Nobody says much. Looking at Dream and Janie, they look so much more worn-down than when we first got here. Their hair is messed up and ratty (though the worst of Janie's is covered by the huge floppy sunhat she got), clothes disheveled, and their eyes have dark circles under them. Dream looks more and more beaten with each coming day, even if his injuries aren't any worse. Slowly, but surely, that fun, energetic light is leaving Janie's eyes. I don't know if the others can see it, but I can.
I wonder how I look. Probably unpresentable. I'm so fucking exhausted and I really just want to be in my own bed without my father around. Maybe I'll actually get to rest.
As we're cooking the meat we were able to catch, a parachute comes floating down from the sky. Janie is the first to notice, and points it out to us without getting up. She's excited to see it, but right now we're just all so exhausted we can't be all hyper. I get it.
We eat our breakfast with some small-talk before the meat is gone. Dream and Janie put the fire out as I go to get the parachute. I can't help but hope it's something for me. Dream and Janie have both gotten stuff, but I haven't gotten anything specifically for me yet.
I open the canister and pull out a belt of throwing knives, labeled with a 1.
Yeah, it's for Dream.
Great. Just another way he can turn on us.
Janie won the throwing knives at the Cornucopia, but now Dream's going to have some of his own. I hand him the belt and he looks a little bit stunned.
"Oh… Th-Thanks."
"Yeah, don't be thanking me," I tell him, "Thank the sponsors."
"Yeah…" He looks around, a bit bewildered. "Thanks."
Weapons of choice can't be cheap, and I know that.
"So, what do you think is in store for us today?"
"I think we should just keep moving," Janie says, her voice so much more lifeless and quiet than ever. I know the Games are taking a lot out of her, but in the end that'll be my advantage… Right?
"Right," Dream says, reaching for the handles of the knives as if practicing for a dire situation (which he probably is).
I get our packs together and start walking, Janie and Dream eventually coming up on either side of me.
It's a definite difference from the first day. Empress and Janie were so lively back then, feeding off each other's nerves and excitement, all while I was annoyed and wanted to kill them, vowing to myself I would. I couldn't even imagine doing it now. The silence we walk in is heavy and practically melancholy.
We walk for a while and are about to stop for an early lunch when we hear a low rumble.
"Time for another gimmick," I mumble under my breath.
Everything starts to shake. The world seems to be collapsing on itself.
"What do we do!?" Janie has to shout. I see a tree teetering, with another crack it comes toppling down. I pull Dream by the shoulder out of the way before it crushes him.
"The only thing the tributes can do at the mercy of the Capitol. Run."
Janie takes my hand and by instinct I take Dreams, and we all try to run together. The ground cracks beneath our feet, there seems to be nowhere to go. Everywhere around us, trees crash to the ground with enough force to really crush you. We run until we reach dead end, where the arena just goes into a rocky cliff, straight down to certain death. Nobody wants to fall there, so I stop. Suddenly a painful explosion in the ground throws me off to the side, and I let go of Dream's hand as I'm thrown backwards.
I hear Janie scream something but can't make out the words as a crack begins to form in the ground right between the three of us.
Fuck. Now I get what ol' Solitaire is trying to do.
Not on my watch. In the frenzy I race the cracks forming across the ground, but with almost supernatural speed they grow big enough that I couldn't possibly brave jumping them. I keep trying, though. I'm not ready to give up on my allies yet. As much as I try, Dream and Janie get further and further away. I lose sight of Janie first and yell for her.
"Janie! Janie! JANUARY!" Nothing. I lose sight of Dream not too long after, as much as a I try to shout for him my yelling is covered by falling trees and the rumbling of the cracking ground.
I couldn't do it. I couldn't get to them. They're on their own, and so am I. At least for now.
I decide to keep moving to prevent the ground under me from getting weaker. I can't lose to this.
I keep moving, keep walking, telling myself that it's all going to be okay. I'm sure I'll be thankful this happened later, but right now I'm furious. I keep walking until I run into other tributes.
~.~.
~Dawson: Six of Hearts~
It was all going just fine, really it was. It was all going fine until a giant fucking tree decided to fall on my waist and legs. It was heavy, I pretty much immediately felt them brok, and all I could do is lay there and scream and cry and agony.
The pain was pretty much blinding, and when things became at least a little bit clearer for me I could see Krissa, pushing the tree with all her might. She actually gets it to move a little bit, and that gives me hope.
Suddenly, though, we hear footsteps. I don't really have to look to know it's Pontifex.
The pushing on the tree becomes more hurried and quick and I suddenly realize it's pointless. I squeeze tears out of my eyes but the world doesn't look any less blurry.
"Go," I tell Krissa, choking a bit.
"Huh-"
"Go!" I shout, trying to shift and failing. "Just go! Save yourself!" Tears roll down my cheeks. She looks down at me as Pontifex comes closer, not knowing what to do.
"Abandon me," I choke out. "It's okay."
"I'm sorry-"
Pontifex is coming close and I'm already blacking out. "Go."
She takes off running as he appears. I can't do anything now but beg him for mercy.
I let them down, and that's not okay with me. I had too much to fight for. I let it all go. I couldn't afford to lose this game but I lost. I left Wye alone, I left my siblings… Winning would've been everything, but I lost. I wish Pontifex would just put me out of my misery already.
I close my eyes with the shakiest, most desperate for air sigh I have left in me. I don't even have the energy and the voice left to apologize. I just want it to be over.
They should only have to watch me die for a little bit, I owe them that.
I hear Pontifex's footsteps come nearer, but that's really the last thing I remember before my back sears and my vision goes white and that's the end.
.
.
A/N: I AM AGGRESSIVELY GRINNING BUT AM ALSO SLIGHTLY NOT OKAY. And so the story is in its second movement (just as the song is) in a perfect 20 chapters! My inner Gio is pleased!
By the way, the second movement of the story is also titled, "The Emotional Death Segment." I didn't want to tell you that until this chapter because that would've spoiled it!
So, next chapter you'll get to see how the earthquake affected everyone else. I am half deeply sorry for this, half nOT SORRY AT ALL AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Chapter Question: What'd you think of the gimmick? What do you predict happened to Tristabelle, Tuesday, and Team Werewolf?
Points:
Kate: 168
Dreamer: 123
Jess: 191
magicharity: 163
hopefuldreamer1991: 65
Sinfonian Legend: 175
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superneet1214: 6
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Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60
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seaotter99: 22
ThisWorldWeHate: 17
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Ibbonray: 35