Chapter Fourteen

"You can kill my body, and you can take my life,
but you can never kill my soul.
My soul will live forever."

-Huey P. Newton

It had been thirty years since Riley had led the Great Protest in Woodcrest.

People everywhere had joined together to revolt against Ed Wuncler Sr's rampage. They stormed every government building, every corporate office, and every food rationing center, destroying it all, brick by brick.

Ruckus was dragged out of his home in Woodcrest and executed on live television after both Ed Wuncler III and Ed Wuncler Sr. were placed into guillotines and beheaded after hours of torment from angry citizens.

Rummy was never found, believed to have escaped with his life.

The Hunger Games were dismantled for good. Instead of sending children to fight for basic rights, the United States opted for a more socialistic-leaning-system. It gave more equal footing to citizens and politicians and kept billionaires and their lawless tendencies in check.

Because of the huge global support for Huey and Jazmine, alongside the huge demonstrations that went on for weeks after Riley took the helm of the Free Unity movement, things took a change for the better. They received assistance from around the world to restore the landscape and their economy.

Other countries had come to provide advice based on their own insights and infrastructure initiatives, helping them to become more efficient in their planning, while they worked with them to improve some of the legislation in theirs.

It took about five years for the environment to begin reviving itself. People started to rely on one other, a welcome change from the capitalistic greed they'd come to expect from one another over the years. It was easier to face those years together, as a united country, than it had ever been, even Pre-Wuncler.

The Rebels had helped, of course. They had been with Riley and core protestors every step of the way, helping him navigate negotiations, talks of restructuring, and helping him and his family with the counseling they needed to grieve the loss of Huey properly.

They remained on the lookout for similar signs of a dictatorship, even years later. Despite the popularity of the movement, there were still others who were secretly incensed by the idea that the people had overthrown their initial form of government and replaced it with something they had active control over.

It was only a matter of time until things would change again.

But for now, they enjoyed the freedoms that they had. They loved one another. They laughed together. They spent time in the great outdoors. They went to the local market. They went out on dates. They hung out with family. They stayed out with close friends under the starry night sky and watched for shooting stars, just because they could.

And because Jazmine couldn't.

Sarah Dubois died on the ninth anniversary of her daughter's death. Everybody had known she'd taken losing her husband and daughter extremely hard, and no matter how much the community of Woodcrest tried to rally around her, none of them could fill the void that her family had left behind.

After participating in the annual parade they held in honor of Huey and Jazmine, she passed peacefully in her sleep. It was rumored that she'd dreamt of Jazmine and Tom days prior, telling her that they would soon be reunited again.

Bushido Brown was reunited with his wife and his youngest son Khalil, two years after the games had ended. He and his wife now lived in the heart of Chicago, keeping a watchful eye over the memorials constructed in honor of Huey. They spent their spare time teaching taekwondo to black youth in inner city communities, sometimes calling Riley when they ran across a group of kids who wanted to be just like him and his brother for a meet and greet over FaceTime.

Riley and Bushido had spent several years searching for Arielle, the girl who Huey had fallen for initially, and who had ultimately been responsible for delivering Huey's response to the letter he and Granddad had sent by handing it over to The Rebels. It had been hard to retrieve due to all of the chaos that ensued, but it had eventually made its way to Riley over twenty years later. Something that Huey had predicted in the whooping one hundred pages he had written before Jazmine and Huey had gone up the mountain their last day in the games.

After year twenty-five, they'd discovered that she was brutally murdered for giving Huey advice on the games, a direct violation of Wuncler-Law at the time.

Her death had been the most gruesome. The photos were absolutely horrific. She'd been chopped into pieces, with some parts of her were finely ground. Riley suspected they would never know the full extent of what had happened to her, and he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to.

Those same images were posted by an anonymous account that appeared on the interwebs many years later, around the time that Huey's final letter had resurfaced. The few living relatives she had appealed to the Supreme Court to erase the images and called for a full investigation against the account that had posted the photos.

The login information was traced to none other than Deborah Leevil , the Gamemaker and former executive of BET. She was sentenced to death by lethal injection for the murder of Arielle and several other victims who had mysteriously vanished after working for the popular television network.

Makayla's parents opened several children's centers across America. They were able to sue the Supreme Court for gross negligence after the country had allowed small children like Makayla to compete in the games, knowing that they were at a significant disadvantage. They were awarded over two billion dollars in compensation for their loss and spent their time advocating for the lives of children all over the world.

A few years after the horrifying period had ended, they were surprised to learn that they'd conceived. They named the baby girl Kayla Elizabeth English, after Makayla and Jazmine. They also created a track team in Chicago for high school girls, aged fourteen through eighteen. They had never been defeated since their inception, and her sister, Kayla, also participated in her first Olympic match, sponsored by Disney.

She beat Usain Bolt's time by 0.3 seconds and is still hailed across the globe as the world's fastest woman.

Caesar still struggled with the backlash that he continued to receive despite protesting with the crowd and publicly denouncing the games. He never married, never had children, and lived alone in the outskirts of Chicago, sometimes taking the time to help others in need with his winnings.

His parents were still alive and visited him regularly, trying to help him cope with the severe PTSD he had developed from his participation in the games. He'd had a host of health concerns over the last two years, but he could not receive and official diagnose. It was widely speculated that his ailments were due to stress.

And Riley…..

"It's a good start, baby." Shanice glanced up and stared at her husband. "It's very detailed though. Nothing an editor can't condense. Really good for a first draft. Huey would've loved it."

"Thanks, baby." Riley reached over to peck his wife on the lips. "I just want to make sure I don't leave anything out. I want the world to know everything that happened."

She reached over and hugged him. "I know."

He sighed and glanced at the front door of their large, single-story beach house before grabbing his keys and heading to his car. He basked in the warmth that the sun had gifted him on Christmas Day.

As it turned out, living in Cuba had its benefits.

"I'll be back." He kissed his wife again. "Tell our little nigglets not to break anything!"

"Hey!" He heard three voices chorus out in response. "Don't call us that! We ain't-"

"Whatever, nigglets!"

Riley was relieved to be away from the states, safe from the chaos with his wife and kids. It wasn't like anyone had done anything. He was technically entitled to certain protections as a popular activist for civil rights, but he wasn't going to stick around and meet the same fate as other champions for justice, especially when his granddad and great-aunt were willing to move to Cuba with him.

Once Riley had pointed out they'd changed their communist views, and that there would be several women walking in bikinis, Granddad had packed up his entire house. He spent his final days laying out on the beach with his wife, Ebony Brown, who he'd married after they reconnected at Huey's funeral. They'd been deeply in love, and Riley believed that his grandfather was truly at peace when he'd transitioned, though he still wasn't quite sure how old the man had been when he transitioned fifteen years ago.

His sister, Cookie Freeman, was still alive and vivacious as ever. She loved to spend her time spoiling his wife and kids, since it brought her immense pleasure to sit around with them and make happy memories.

He'd married Shanice after meeting her back in Chicago. She was a beautiful brown-skinned woman, with almond eyes, and a sharp tongue. They'd gotten married young, at only twenty years old, and twenty-four years later they were still going strong.

They had three beautiful children together. Their first child,a girl, had been named after Jazmine and Granddad, Robin Jayde Freeman, a spitfire, just like him and her mother. Their last two kids were both boys. Twins who he'd dreamt of before his wife had even realized she was pregnant.

His brother had been holding the boys in his arms while smirking up at him with Jazmine by his side, joking that he'd always wanted sons of his own, but since he wasn't around, he supposed that Riley would be the first person to raise two young boys of his own. It had felt so real that he could still feel his brother's hands reaching over to place both babies in his arms.

After talking about it with his wife, she was gracious enough to let him pick their names as well. Huey Xavier Freeman and Malcolm Percival Freeman were their pride and joy.

All three of his children were.

He made his way down to the shoreline of the beach, allowing the waves to splash over his ankles.

"I figured I would finally finish this long ass book of yours." He smirked and touched his hair, styled in an afro like it usually was on this day, lifting the manuscript as if Huey was alive to see it. "Especially since there's some weird ass conspiracy theory about me taking your place in the hunger games. Something about you doing it so that you could step in and lead the revolution back home." He let out a snicker. "People are crazy."

He kept his eyes on the water, sighing. "I wish that I had thought to do that. It ain't never gon' be right. Nothing is ever right without you and Jazmine alive."

He continued.

"They opened up a museum in honor of you and all the elects this year." Riley snorted. "I went, and they had this hologram of you all. It looked so real that I damn near cried in the exhibit looking at yours with Robin. You're still stuck with the eternally teenaged Jazmine, so I figured you might understand how I feel about her being more focused on her prom outfit than our recent history."

He glanced over at the sun, seeming to linger in the middle of the ocean.

"I'm sure that Granddad is up there keeping you two in line." He smiled. "Just tell him not to be up there flirting with too many angels. Mrs. Ebony is wild. She'd fling herself off the road herself before she let him get with a supernatural broad."

He grinned when the wind picked up again.

"Yeah, I know, right?" He nodded, rubbing his hands together. "Robin is heading off to college at Howard in the fall. Your nephew, Malcolm, is a genius. Might be smarter than you. He's already enrolled in four AP classes for his sophomore year, and his brother Huey, well, let's just say he's a work in progress. Just as smart as his brother, if not more. His ass is just hardheaded…like somebody else we know."

He smirked.

"I know I say this every time I come here to talk to you, but I'm proud of you. You taught me about leading a movement your entire life, even when you didn't think I was listening to you." He squatted down to touch the next small wave crashing onto the shore. "But I was. I was always listening to what you had to say. And I miss you, man. I miss yo ass so much."

He leaned into the ocean, his voice just a whisper against the gentle waves. "Happy birthday, Huey. I love yo' old legendary ass, nigga."

"Riley?" His wife tapped him on the shoulder. He could hear their kids on the other end of the beach, close to the parking lot where they were, evidently, opening a few car doors. "Are you okay, baby?"

He nodded, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. "Yeah, I'm good. I told you I'd be right back."

"Cookie made food. Thought it would be a nice new tradition for Christmas." Shanice smiled apologetically, kissing his cheek. "I would've gone somewhere else if I were thinking clearer. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, girl." He kissed her lips gently, ignoring his kids groans of disgust to hold her in his arms a little while longer. "You know I love any food that you and Aunt Cookie make. Just give me a minute, okay?"

Shanice gave him another kiss before retreating, walking back to where Cookie and the kids were setting up dinner. "Okay."

She didn't press the issue. And he didn't turn to her to prove that he was okay when he wasn't.

He'd written the book. And he'd made sure that Huey and Jazmine were hailed as heroes that had been inspired by the death of Makayla. He knew that's what his brother would have wanted. Just like he knew that he would've been proud of him had he seen what he'd done all those years ago.

Sometimes, it just still felt like he hadn't done enough.

Huey's final letter, the one that he'd given back to Arielle before entering the pods, was cemented in time at the Hunger Games Museum.

Though Riley had lied and told them that he would give them the original letter, he'd actually handed over an authentic-looking replica. He hadn't wanted to give up one of the last things his brother had left to him and his grandfather.

Just as he did every year, he pulled out the letter and read it, staring out into the sea.

To Grandad And Riley (Who Should've Written His Own Letter Instead of Hogging Granddad's):

This isn't an easy letter to write, but I've made my choice.

I hope you all can understand if that choice results in me dying early.

You'll want to praise me and give me all the glory.

Don't.

I didn't start it, and I probably won't end it. No matter how much you'll desperately wish I'd lived to.

When the time comes, you'll both make your own choices, and I believe that after this, you'll make the right ones.

There is one thing that I want from this world. Several things, to be honest.

But I don't have time to repeat myself.

So if they ask, tell them this:

It was her.

She was the spark.

She lit the flame of the revolution again.

She was the hope until I embraced it.

She was the catalyst, the combusting supernova in the sky.

I was the stone that the building refused.

The big bang we created, too large to contain.

Too heavy of a weight to move.

Even death couldn't erase this vision.

I love ya'll.

I'm proud to know ya'll.

Never stop fighting,

Huey Percival Freeman

He finished reading the last sentence of his brother's autobiography. The one he'd spent years working on. Despite the mood he was in, he laughed. "Maybe it's a good thing yo ass died young. My hands hurtlike a muthafucka writing about your crazy ass life."

He fell silent again and closed his eyes, clasping his hands together as he held them tight, lifting them as high as he could.

The moment they popped open, the white petals he released every year flew into the air; the strong smell of jasmine flowers lingered for longer than usual, as they slowly twirled around him before floating into the sea.

It was bittersweet.

His brother's memory couldn't be anything but that for him. In the end, he'd always have the memories, the small pieces of him that he wouldn't dare forget, finding that if he paid attention…

His brother would always find a way to make his voice heard.

He groaned as he bent down to retrieve the manuscript he had written, pausing to stare at the heap of jasmine petals piled on top of it.

It was a simple gesture. One that could easily be waved off as the work of the wind. But somehow, just like always on days like this, it was enough to make him smile.

He walked up to the table where his wife and children were sitting with his Aunt Cookie, grateful to have a family to share his life with.

And eternally grateful that his brother had given him the chance to do so.

Author's Note:

*in my Tyra Banks voice*

How many people were scared?

This story was not my most popular. It was not perfectly written. As a matter of fact, it was bulky and had hella typos, so I learned the hard way to edit, multiple times, even after uploading. I got frustrated with myself, with my writing, with this plot, and then somewhere along the way I started enjoying just updating for me again.

I consider this the first REAL story that I finished, and I'm very proud of it.

So….

If you stuck it out, thank you. I really appreciate you for continuing to read chapter after chapter of my writing.

To CuriousMind58, who encouraged me when I deleted this story, thank you! It never would've been finished without you.

To niybruh, KaralettV, 1237, and CuriousMind58, thank you all for favoriting and following my story!

To those of you who read, thank you!

Looking back at my very first story and looking at this one, I'm so proud of crossing the finish line and how I've improved over the years. I'm well aware that this is not a perfect story…but I'm happy that it's my story.

That said….

Happy Juneteenth, and I hope you enjoyed it.

A Few Answers for You All, In Case You Have Questions:

Why the HELL did Caesar end up being the winner?

Initially, he wasn't going to be. I just set it up that way in case I changed my mind, and I'm honestly glad that I did.

There were three endings I considered from the jump: Huey winning, Jazmine/Huey rigging a bow and arrow so the other would win and dying, and this one.

There was just something a little more real about this ending, and I think that ultimately, that's why I picked it tbh.

I also wanted to explore what it meant to survive the games. The best possible ending for Jazmine and Huey was death, imo. Them living through that would've been effed up. And while I think they would've made it, it would've been a rough, gritty journey that ya'll would've wanted to wring my neck for tbh.

The ending was always going to be tragic. The entire plot is pretty much outlined in the prologue. I actually thought I'd given the ending away tbh.

Hiro wasn't lying when he told them that none of them would have a happy ending.

So…you mean to tell us Jazmine and Huey were always going to die?
Yep.

It's implied several times too. They sit on the hill, and it's dead. The games go exactly like the adults (particularly Granddad and Bushido) said it would. Jazmine compares them to Romeo and Juliet at one point…there are so many times where I hinted or straight up said they were going to die. Sorry.

And like I said, if one of them had lived…I definitely would've made that person Huey…since it's his story.

Did Huey have real feelings for Jazmine before the games? Did Huey love Arielle?

It's kind of subtle here, but yes, he had real feelings for her the entire time. Bushido calls out the dynamic perfectly when he points out he's always finding little reasons to touch her, hold her, etc because he likes her. There was just so much going on…especially in this universe that he never took the time to consider his feelings.

Huey did not love Arielle in this universe but he did feel a connection with her. Their attraction in each story is pretty instant. I will say had they gotten the opportunity to get together he would've fallen for her, maybe even married and divorced her.

Tbh…it was always going to be Jazmine for him…the games just put them in a situation where they had to address what they'd been feeling.

This is also (possibly) the last time you'll see her lmfao.

How did Cookie get out?

The Rebels helped her fake her death. Granddad wasn't lying when he said let the grown folks worry about that.

What the hell was wrong with Wuncler?

Rich, white, and entitled in America. A dangerous combo. He was the real dictator, full of power, money, and greed.

He ain't shit, and he deserved worst than what he got.

Did you cry writing this?
I cried writing the first round of the games. It was hard. I think the hardest chapters to write were 1, 6, and 14, and 15. It was definitely very emotional for me. I think this is one of the hardest things I have ever written in my life.

Do you plan on killing any main characters in your other stories:
No, lmfao. Not that I know of.

Is Isis here to stay?
So…Isis isn't even an OOC. Aaron McGruder literally originally created her as Caesar's literal crush. Seriously, google it!

You may get glimpses of her here and there, but she's not a main part of the storylines like she is here.

So What Else Almost Happened?:
There are a lot of inside jokes with myself in some of these stories lmfao.

This story was literally almost about the conspiracy theory Riley mentioned, where he was pretending to be Huey and joined the hunger games, which would've been an even crazier ride.

Thankfully, that never happened.

Are You Done Clogging The Boondocks forum with stuff?

Yes, I'm taking an actual break this time.

It's summer. Ya girl has a life to live.

I'll be back eventually.

Thanks again, guys.

Miss Ace Thank You