the place behind the sky // mandy [day 6]

[semper]

when the north wind moans thro' the blind creek courses
and revels with harsh, hot sand,
i loose the horses, the wild red horses,
i loose the horses, the mad, red horses,
and terror is on the land

It hurts to even gasp for air; it hurts to move; it hurts to still be alive. Every time my ribcage expands I hear this sickening gurgle noise mixed with a sort of wheeze. It made me sick earlier to see how the blood just bubbled and foamed, darkening my already soaked black shirt if that’s even possible. When I think that it’s done bleeding I glance down only to find blood still pouring out and I know it’s literally draining me of life. How much more can my body lose until I’m drained? I raise my quaking hand, gingerly brushing the fingertips along the wound on my belly, feeling the hot, sticky liquid and wincing when I put pressure too close to the slit skin. My hand then travels up to the stab on my chest and without a second thought I clamp it down on top of the gaping hole, unable to suppress a yelp and a hacking cough that quickly follows. Blood fills my mouth and I swear that my entire torso feels like it’s trying to heave up both my lungs through my throat and I hunch over, fighting to breathe properly while spitting out the blood and saliva, a godawful pain ripping through me.

This is nothing like the books I’ve read. A dying person is supposed to be ultimately relaxed, accepting of their fate, smiling somberly at loved ones and reminiscing sweet memories with them. Not once was a single word used to describe them in pain, spitting up blood, feeling like their insides were shredding apart, blood pouring profusely from wounds placed all over the body. If they were dying due to an injury then somehow they magically forgot the pain or had something to numb it, but that’s just fantasy. This is here, this is now, this is now. I’m hurting, oh Ripred, I’m hurting. Every part of my body is screaming and burning and I want nothing more than for it to all stop – but the only way I can make it stop is to end everything I’ve known.

I’ve never been scared of death and even now, as I’m steadily losing energy and coherency, it does not frighten me. Ever since I heard my name being called up on that stage I knew I’d change for the worse and I never saw myself returning home. Even if I did I knew I’d be a monster with the lives of twenty-three others haunting and plaguing my dreams every night. I would always be wondering ’Why me? Why not someone else?’, tossing and turning every night, dragging myself through each day in a haze of malcontent. Maybe I’d try to numb everything with alcohol or drugs, maybe I’d isolate myself even more than I already did beforehand, maybe I’d even try to commit suicide. I’d look in the mirror every day and not see my face but the faces of twenty-three others, all bloodied and bashed, angry expressions glaring at me. I’d feel alone, so terribly alone, fighting off these anxiety spells and having no one to speak to that has even the foggiest idea of what I was dealing with.

Except Lethe.

She was right to give both Luci and I a sort of cold shoulder and not bond with us. To her we’re only sheep being sent off to slaughter and to be attached to us is nothing but a certain disaster. I can only imagine what our deaths will bring her once my cannon fires. She probably doesn’t even feel it anymore, all numb from so many deaths weighing her down. It’s a wonder that Lethe is still even functioning properly in the head. She has Eden, though, and that guy I’ve seen her with a few times; she’s alright, she has help.

But out here we’re alone. I’m alone. No one is here to help me or talk to me or—the walkie-talkie.

In a spurt of what I’m pretty sure is desperation I reach forward and haul my backpack closer, rummaging through my few items and finding what just might very well be my savior. I lean back against the thin tree and struggle with my weak hand to even press the button and hold it down. And then, very weakly and with gasping, painful breaths, I ask the one question that’s bearing down heavily on my mind: ”Is anyone there?”

The sound of static breaks the dull droning of the rain and all throughout my body I can feel my heart pounding, only forcing more blood out of the wounds I’ve not bothered to even attempt to close and heal. The walkie-talkie weighs my hand down to rest on my thigh, ultimately too heavy for my poor arm to hold up. Anxiously I await a response, silently begging and willing anyone in this damn arena to answer, ally or not.

[/justify][/color]
yea, the south wind sobs among the drowned creek courses
for sorrows no man shall bind---
ah, god! for the horses, the black plumed horses,
dear god! for the horses, death's own pale horses,
that raced in the tracks behind

A Gallop of Fire, Marie E J Pitt

Graphic credit to Kiah <3[/right]
[/center][/size]

[lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah]

[th][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=style, background-color: 322836; border-right:6px solid 5C5549; border-left:6px solid 5C5549; border-top:0px solid 5C5549; border-bottom:0px solid 5C5549;] Now it seems to me, some fine things Have been laid upon your table But you only want the ones that you can't get

[/color][/font][/size][/center]

As soon as the moss feel from my body I felt relief. It wasn’t until that moment that I realised just how scared I had been of dying. I had been so scared, so so scared. The fear that had filled my body was a type of fear that I had never felt before and it scared me, I didn’t want to ever feel it again. Is this how Locust had felt, when she saw my weapon flying toward her beautiful face? Had she thought Shit, this is it? Or underneath all her tough act skin was there actually a girl how felt something- like fear, like love? I didn’t know and I guess now I would never know.

Yaa runs to my side and a sigh of relief fills my body as she tries to fix the wounds, bruises that cover my body. They ached, they ached so much. I just had to knock into something to cause my whole arm to feel like hundreds and hundreds of pins were being pressed into my delicate skin. But I suck up the pain, knowing that these little bruises were nothing compared to what others had gone through. I needed to look strong, capable. I needed to look as though I had put all those tiny pieces back together. I needed to look sane once again.

My finger scrambled for the thermos of coffee that lay on the top of my bag. With shaky fingers I peel away the lid and pour the liquid into my mouth. The bitter taste of coffee ills me and I feel the pain of the bruises leave me. I loved coffee, I had never loved it more in the world than at this moment. That’s when my mind flies to Andy. Andy. There is so much I needed to say to him, there was so much… I needed to see him, to know that I would be safe around him. But that wasn’t the only reason why I needed to see him. There was just something about being around him that made me feel as though I could fight a thousand battles and still come out calm. To come to think of it, didn’t my little break downs start after I stopped seeing him? Isn’t that when I truly had started to lose my mind?

“Yaa,” I say suddenly getting to my feet, “I need to leave, but I will be back-I just have to find Andy and make sure that the is okay. I’m sorry please, forgive me.’’ I don’t even wait for her to reply before I am on my feet and sprint to wards- where? where was I supposed to go? I had no idea where he was, I had no idea, at all. But that didn’t matter, just keep running, you will find him A voice in the back of my head screams at me as I run through the moss of the moss forest.

***

Soon I was surrounded by small little trees. My feet squelched in the mud and the orange fur of my suit was soon turned muddy brown. “Andy! Andy! Where are you?” I knew it was wrong to scream out for him, I knew if someone else was lurking that I was giving away my position, but I needed to see him, I needed to. I couldn’t explain it but I needed to see him. I just had too.

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template: penny

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graphics: stare

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song:

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word count: 0000

[/td][/tr]
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notes: nothing :3
.

[/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[semper]

when the north wind moans thro' the blind creek courses
and revels with harsh, hot sand,
i loose the horses, the wild red horses,
i loose the horses, the mad, red horses,
and terror is on the land

The static rings relentlessly and even the rain doesn’t swallow up the sound. Desperation continues to well up inside of me and I try to lift up the walkie-talkie once more but my strength has failed me. Every limb hangs like dead weight and pain throbs throughout my entire body, pulsing, blood continuing to pour from each of my wounds. The rain only makes the blood spread thinner and cover more of my pale skin and I imagine that I look much worse than I really am. But I’m dying, how much worse can I feel? A ragged breath shakes me and I find myself gasping once again, fighting to obtain a proper amount of oxygen. The awful sound of blood gurgling in my chest grows louder each time I suck in air and my lungs burn; I can’t swallow all the blood that’s pooling in my mouth so it ends up rolling down my chin in hot droplets, probably mixing with the rain that streaks down my face.

My eyes can’t focus and it’s getting harder and harder to even hold my head up. Everything surrounding me is blurry, terribly blurry, but I still am painfully aware that I’m still alone. The thought of remaining alone in this arena terrifies me – people have died in this place and soon I’ll be just another number and lifeless body lying side-by-side with Luciana, ready to be shipped off back to Five like nothing ever happened. They’ll fix my wounds and blemishes and make me their image of “perfect” but my family will know the difference (if they care enough, at least). I won’t see any of my siblings again, I won’t work with the horses anymore, I won’t be able to climb up a tree and settle on a branch to read a book I’ve been eager to delve into. All of that – those memories I never thought I would find fond – will soon be nothing. Me, my entire being, everything I’ve ever known, will be wiped out of existence. If passing is as painful as it is right now then I don’t want to die.

There’s a sound that cuts through the rain and I almost don’t hear it. My name? I blink a time or two and spot something orange. Orange? The confusion is only brief as pain quickly works its way back into me. I don’t even have the strength to grit my teeth against the throbbing agony so I stare at the moving orange blur, trying to swallow in order to free up my mouth to croak out a pitiful ”Here.”

[/justify][/color]
yea, the south wind sobs among the drowned creek courses
for sorrows no man shall bind---
ah, god! for the horses, the black plumed horses,
dear god! for the horses, death's own pale horses,
that raced in the tracks behind

A Gallop of Fire, Marie E J Pitt

Graphic credit to Kiah <3[/right]
[/center][/size]

[lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah]

[th][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=style, background-color: 322836; border-right:6px solid 5C5549; border-left:6px solid 5C5549; border-top:0px solid 5C5549; border-bottom:0px solid 5C5549;] If I should die before I wake It's 'cause you took my breath away Losing you is like living in a world with no air Oh

[/color][/font][/size][/center]

The sound is so quiet that I am not even sure that I heard anything. I had heard a groan of pain, and a word that that owner of the groan had tried to call out. But was it just my mind playing tricks on me? But there is was gain, that moan of pain. It filled my mind; it filled my ears until it was the only thing I could hear. Someone was in great pain, pain that I could not even imagine. Pulling out of my thoughts I try to track down the source of the noise, my body moving towards the sound, well I hope It was- it was hard to tell with the pounding of the rain that surrounded me. But I was sure I had heard something, and that, by far, was better than nothing.

My feet slid on the muddy ground, but I remained standing. My ears straining for the slightest noise. Any noise. What if Andy was here? But what if I was too late? What if he was already dead? How could I live with that? The answer was obvious- I wouldn’t be able to live with it, I would not be able to live knowing that Andy had died because I had been to slow. That’s when I heard the noise again, but this time it was slightly louder and easier to distinguish. “Andy? Andy is that you?” I ask. But again there no reply, but I knew I had heard something so I move aster my feet taking me to the noise.

That’s when I saw him.

His body was all torn and bloody and for a moment I thought that he was dead, but then I heard that groan- that groan filled with pain, excruciating pain- and I broke, I drop my pack to the ground and run over to the mutilated body of my friend. “No, no no NO!” I scream as I kneel down beside him, my eyes searching his body. But there was just so many, so many cuts, so much blood. Andy, the boy I had come to see as family. Andy, the boy who had always been there for me. Andy, the who was dying. “Andy, hang in there, okay? I’m going to fix you… I am going to …” But my words trail off. I knew it was too late, and I am sure he did too.

This boy was already too far gone.

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template: penny

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graphics: stare

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song:

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word count: 0000

[/td][/tr]
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notes: nothing :3
.

[/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[semper]

when the north wind moans thro' the blind creek courses
and revels with harsh, hot sand,
i loose the horses, the wild red horses,
i loose the horses, the mad, red horses,
and terror is on the land

I know there’s a person there – my eyes follow the orange figure as it goes back and forth, calling out again and again. It’s just too much for me to reply once more so I remain quiet, hoping that the figure can follow the one sound I was able to give them.

It’s hard for me to understand why this stranger is wearing orange. Our uniforms are solid black so why is this person so different? Perhaps the sponsors gave them something. Oh how much I would give for a sponsor to give me something to ease the pain right now. Some people just have all the luck in this damn place: tributes have received salves, first aid equipment, food, water, pretty much anything you can imagine. They’re the lucky ones. They have the force of wealthy Capitolites behind them and then you have tributes like me, low training score and hardly anything to their name. The only people I’m lucky to have backing me up is my family.

The orange figure must have spotted me because it’s drawing closer and closer and then I recognize the voice. Mik. My heart starts pumping faster and my lungs fight for more air, burning and screaming at me to stop fueling the imaginary fire charring the inside. I want to speak to him, tell him everything that’s happened, ask him if he’s alright, but my breath catches in my throat and I’m left wheezing wretchedly and almost embarrassingly. So instead of trying to speak my head tilts just slightly and I search for him with my eyes, finding a very worried face looking down at me.

Throughout the duration of these games Mik and I have alternated taking care of each other whether we realize it or not. He was the one that caved first, hitting Yaa with a severed hand after the bloodbath and laughing maniacally like he’d gone crazy. I was the one who approached him and attempted to get his head out of the clouds and refocused. Then it was his turn – after the spider fight I was so tired, so completely drained that I just about collapsed and had to wait for Mik to find me. He stitched up my wounds and I relapsed mentally from the strong façade I had used for two days in this hellhole; he comforted me when I wept over my brother, letting loose emotions I had kept bottled up for years and not once did Mik judge me. Both he and Yaa have seen me at my weakest and while Yaa and I had a very different way of coping with our emotions, Mik leaves me feeling more sure about myself. He’s the friend I always wished I had back home in Five. He gave me confidence, he gave me help, he kept my sanity in check and I realize now that I need him.

His words trail off about how he’s going to heal me but I know he knows that I’m going to die. The gaping and bubbling wounds in my chest and belly are evidence enough that I’m not going to live through the night. He’s here, though, and that’s all that matters. I’m not alone anymore. At this close proximity I can finally see what on earth his orange suit is and it looks quite fuzzy, albeit drenched from the rain. It’s not just orange, though, it’s got black stripes running horizontally and the picture confuses me to such a degree that I find myself asking, ”What the hell are you wearing?”

My lungs smart at their usage and I wince more so than usual, backtracking to my original train of thought of how limited amount of time I have left. I don’t wait for an answer before I force my hand to rise and reach out, grabbing onto the fabric of the orange suit with a dismally weak grip, trying – and failing – to pull myself closer to him. There’s no way I’m going to let him out of my sight until the very end and I refuse to lose him again like our alliance just seems to have a knack for. We’re always wandering off, getting lost, and losing each other for days at a time but not this time. I’m not about to let this last opportunity get away.

”Please don’t leave me.”

[/justify][/color]
yea, the south wind sobs among the drowned creek courses
for sorrows no man shall bind---
ah, god! for the horses, the black plumed horses,
dear god! for the horses, death's own pale horses,
that raced in the tracks behind

A Gallop of Fire, Marie E J Pitt

Graphic credit to Kiah <3[/right]
[/center][/size]

[lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah]

[th][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=style, background-color: 322836; border-right:6px solid 5C5549; border-left:6px solid 5C5549; border-top:0px solid 5C5549; border-bottom:0px solid 5C5549;] But how do you expect me to live alone with just me 'Cause my world revolves around you It's so hard for me to breathe

[/color][/font][/size][/center]

As I stare down at the boy who had gone through so much. This boy didn’t deserve to die. He deserved to go back home, home to his district to his family that will welcome him. Of course they would welcome him- he would be bringing wealth to his home, but not that only, but it will also bring his body, his love, his life back home to the people that need it the most. His family had been through so much losing one of their family members already to the games, now… now they lose another and I cannot help but blame myself for it. If I had gotten here earlier would he be in this position? Dying? No. he wouldn’t. You know why? Because I would have protected him, because that is what you do when you lo- when you what? Love someone? But did I love Andy? Yes I saw him as someone that I needed to protect. Out of everyone in this arena he is the one I would give my life for…

But that didn’t mean that I loved him did? My mind flies back to all the long conversation that I had had with him. They all had been so easy. It was like talking to someone that I had known for years… did that mean something? My mind took me around in circles playing back the times when we had both clung to each other, the way the warmth of his body had made me feel warm and comfortable, safe and protected, at that moment I had known that I could trust him and him alone. Those times were the only times that I had felt hope in this place when I was standing beside Andy. When I had left him I had broken into tiny pieces believing that it was my duty to kill him… but then I had saw him and I knew I had been wrong. I was a boy who was so confused, so messed up- so it could be possible. It could be possible that my feelings for this boy was more than that; more than the friendship.

And now I look down at him and I have broken that trust. People didn’t break promises to those who they loved. But I did love him. I loved him, I did. “What the hell are you wearing?” His weak voice cuts through my thoughts and I drag my gaze to his, my heart breaking as I look into his eyes which were slowly losing the life that glowed in their depths. My breath caught in my throat and I had to look away for a moment, trying to control the lump that had risen to my throat. He didn’t need this, not now. He didn’t need me to be all emotional, he needed me strong. I had to be strong, for him. Taking a deep breath I look back at him and sigh. I couldn’t do this, I couldn’t look at him and not break, it was too hard. I just couldn’t watch the boy that I had so many confused and mixed feelings for die while I told him what the hell I was wearing. There were too many other things I had to tell him, things that were so much more important than the clothing that protected my skin. But before I could say a word one of his hand shot up grabbing weakly at the hood of the tiger suit. ”Please don’t leave me.” He begs.

I start to shake my head, symbolising to him that I wouldn’t leave. “Andy- I won’t- not again- I am staying, staying for as long- for as long as you need me.” My voice breaks as the words tumble from my lips. Tears already falling freely down my face. How much more death could I take? Everyone- everyone- that I loved died… was I cursed? “Andy, I am so sorry that I left- if I had just stayed- if I hadn’t of runaway- then maybe, just maybe you would still- maybe you would still live. I am so sorry, this is my fault, I am so so so sorry, Andy… Andy? who? who did this to you?”

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template: penny

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graphics: stare

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song:

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word count: 0000

[/td][/tr]
[tr][td][th][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=style, background-color: 322836; border-left:6px solid 5C5549; border-right:6px solid 5C5549; border-bottom:6px solid 5C5549;]

notes: nothing :3
.

[/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[semper]

when the north wind moans thro' the blind creek courses
and revels with harsh, hot sand,
i loose the horses, the wild red horses,
i loose the horses, the mad, red horses,
and terror is on the land

My hand trembles against that fuzzy suit of his and I do all that I can to keep hanging on. This boy right here, with the fluffy hair and dark skin, he’s my best friend. He’s the first friend I made in the Capitol and I’ve clung to that bond throughout the entirety of the 64th Games. He’s the one that I’m constantly worrying about, the one I was more than willing to give the armored vest to, the one (well, one of the few) I’m more than alright losing to. He’s the one – he’s the one.

If they hadn’t called our names for the reaping we would have never met and that’s almost a scary thought. We’ve only known each other for maybe two weeks and already I can’t imagine living without him. In such a short span of time he’s become so near and dear and precious to me that I’m glad I don’t have to see him die. If I had seen him pass away I already know I would’ve lost control of myself and broken down completely, and with his life would have gone my last shreds of hope and will. No, there’s no way I could have lived for very long if he died.

He’s right here beside me watching me struggle to even breathe and keep a coherent conversation going with him for even a moment or two without having to break off to wince or grimace or try to swallow so I don’t end up choking. Am I selfish for preferring him to see me like this instead of me watching him die? No, no, he’s strong, he’s a fighter, he’s not going to die. Me, on the other hand, I’m not a fighter. Akina’s and Sierra’s deaths were nothing but dumb luck on my part and I know it; I’ve no special skill, no special talent, nothing that sets me apart from either of those two girls other than gender. Mik and I were both kidding ourselves when he convinced me that I had a shot at the crown but the doubt was always lurking in the back of my mind, waiting, just waiting, for the perfect time to strike and break my confidence.

Mik shakes his head and tells me he won’t leave me and I breathe a great sigh of relief. He stumbles over his words but I know what he means: I’m here until you die. It shouldn’t be too long now – my grip on his fuzzy suit gets weaker and weaker and just about slips right off. It’s only a matter of time and how much blood is still left inside my body and if it’s enough to keep me functioning properly. I will myself to hang on just a little longer so that, if anything, I can just savor the presence of my friend.

”No, Mik, don’t be s—“ a wince, ”—sorry. It’s not your fault and it was bound to happen s-sooner or later. I guess… just sooner rather than later.” My chest heaves and fights for the air I need to speak, and the gurgling, sucking noise in my chest intensifies with each time I try to tell him something. Ripred does it hurt. Everything hurts.

My mind flashes back to Xanthus – that dark face and elegant voice of his. He spoke in such a regal fashion, much like the text of some older books, and I never thought anyone would speak like that in real life. The Career didn’t play dirty but he took everything I had: my boots, all my armor, the backpack, and even Anima. He left me with nothing but my shirt and shorts but at this point it doesn’t matter because I won’t need anything come a short while. I didn’t go down without a fight, though, and I took quite a good chunk out of him. Somewhere behind Mik lies a severed hand and leg and I’m fairly certain both are giving Xanthus a hard time right about now. It’s only fair, right? He takes my life and items and I take off two vital limbs of his – but in the end he’s the only one that achieved a goal: he avenged Sierra’s death.

”That-.. that one Career. Dark hair, and… Xanthus, Xanthus.” The words portray my scattered mind as I try piecing together a response. ”I got him good, though. I did.”

The desire for contact is so strong that I find myself struggling to lean forward, very weakly pulling on the fuzzy suit, until I finally am able to rest my head against Mik’s chest. Mik, sweet, strong Mik, always here for me and doing everything in his power to protect Yaa and I. The awkward position takes far too much strength to keep still so I just fall limp onto him, physically unable to even quiver or tremble anymore. I don’t want to leave him quite just yet because I have things I need to tell him but I’m unable to find the words. There’s so much I can say but I’m running out of time and energy; I take a shaky breath, finding it harder and harder to form words. ”Thanks for everything, Mik.”

[/justify][/color]
yea, the south wind sobs among the drowned creek courses
for sorrows no man shall bind---
ah, god! for the horses, the black plumed horses,
dear god! for the horses, death's own pale horses,
that raced in the tracks behind

A Gallop of Fire, Marie E J Pitt

Graphic credit to Kiah <3[/right]
[/center][/size]

[lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah]

[th][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=style, background-color: 322836; border-right:6px solid 5C5549; border-left:6px solid 5C5549; border-top:0px solid 5C5549; border-bottom:0px solid 5C5549;] Tell me how I'm supposed to breathe with no air Can't live, can't breathe with no air It's how I feel whenever you ain't there It's no air, no air

[/color][/font][/size][/center]

My hands shake and I feels as though I am as weak as Andy. I feel as though the life he is losing is also leaving me. Couldn’t I just lie down with him, right here, and let the wind carry us both off to sleep? Couldn’t I just lie here in his arm and die, just like he is? It wasn’t fair. How could I lose him? How could I lose him after jut finding him a few weeks ago? All my life I have lost the people I loved, and I was sick of it to be honest. Why did everyone I love have to die? Have to leave me to let my heart beak again over and over. I was like a cat who had nine lives, and after Andy, after Andy’s death, I am pretty sure this cat only has one left…

There was only so many time a heart could be broken and put back together. Each time, I lose a piece, losing a part of who I am. Each time my heart breaks, pieces are scattered everywhere, it does not take only a few moments to gather those pieces but a few years, and a few years mean that pieces could have scattered- flying away with the wind, leaving you left with a jigsaw that was not finished. Staring down at Andy I feel those missing pieces fly further and further away out of my grasp. What was I going to do? I could not leave him, even after he takes his last breathe- I had just found him, I had just found him, and now – this time instead of me leaving he was leaving. But he was leaving not just temporarily… but for good.

”That-.. that one Career. Dark hair, and… Xanthus, Xanthus.” As soon as the words fell from his lips I knew what I had to do. I had to kill that boy. He deserved no mercy- no mercy what so ever. You kill someone who means everything to me… I take away what means everything to you. Your life. But the boy could wait. I had to watch over Andy for now. I had to watch over him and protect him… How could I protect him? I couldn’t. He was dying and I couldn’t help him. ”Thanks for everything, Mik.”

That’s when the tears feel and whole world began to crumble.

How? How could he be thanking me? After everything I had put him through. I collapse to the ground, lying next to Andy. I press my body close to his and let the sobs slips from between my lips. I couldn’t lose him. I needed him. He was my anchor, he was the reason I was still slightly sane and now he was leaving and it was all too much for me.

“A-Andy please-“ I sob, turning so that I could look into his eyes- “Please don’t leave me, I need you. I can’t- you can’t leave me.” The sobs that escape my lips doesn’t sound like they should belong to a human, but an animal that was in pain. “What will I do without? I- in this short time- in this- I can’t.” I couldn’t talk. Tear feel from my eyes and landed on the dirt that was already a mud. My breath came out in loud gasps and my body shook. I couldn’t. I couldn’t handle losing him, the last person on this earth that I loved. “Why? Why do all the people I love have to leave me? Why? Everyone I love dies, leaving me more broken then before.” I had said it. I had said that I loved him without even meaning to. I stare at him awkwardly or a moment. opps. What the hell, my day wasn’t going to get any better

The without even thinking I leant over him, pressing my lips to his. Tears still fell from my eyes, but I didn’t care. I had never kissed anyone before so I try to recall the image of Yaa and Locust, and the way they moved their lips over one another’s… But it wasn’t the same. So I just went with my instincts and pressed my lips hard to Andy’s not quite sure what I was doing.

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template: penny

[/td][td][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=style, background-color: 322836; border-right:0px solid 5C5549; border-left:0px solid 5C5549; border-top:0px solid 5C5549;]

graphics: stare

[/td][td][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,449,true][atrb=style, background-color: 322836; border-right:0px solid 5C5549; border-left:0px solid 5C5549; border-top:0px solid 5C5549;]

song:

[/td][td][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=style, background-color: 322836; border-right:6px solid 5C5549; border-left:0px solid 5C5549; border-top:0px solid 5C5549;]

word count: 0000

[/td][/tr]
[tr][td][th][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=style, background-color: 322836; border-left:6px solid 5C5549; border-right:6px solid 5C5549; border-bottom:6px solid 5C5549;]

notes: nothing :3
.

[/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[semper]

when the north wind moans thro' the blind creek courses
and revels with harsh, hot sand,
i loose the horses, the wild red horses,
i loose the horses, the mad, red horses,
and terror is on the land

Mik comes down to my level, obviously distraught. In all honesty I don’t think he should be worried over my passing but it makes me wonder: why is he reacting this way? What am I not understanding? We’re friends – good friends – but that doesn’t mean he has to cry or feel bad at all. Dying is natural; everything that lives comes from the earth and Mother Nature always reclaims what is hers, either by a natural cause or a manmade one. Bodies return to dust but our spirits live on forever, subordinate to nothing earthly. That’s where Haff and Anima are, somewhere up behind the sky with every other spirit that ever lived. I remember lying out in the pastures some nights in Five and looking up at the stars, wondering which ones were footprints and which were hoof prints, paw prints, bird feet, all little punctures in the fabric of the sky so that light from the other side can shine through when the darkness takes over the land, lighting the way for those left behind.

That’s where I’m going soon, where I’ll be reunited with the other tributes, present and past, and my brother. Why doesn’t Mik see that? Would he rather that I be trapped in this arena and live to just die another day? There is no feasible way I could live with myself if I took the crown of the 64th Games; I know for certain I’d have reoccurring nightmares, some sort of stress or panic related disorder develop, depression, and maybe I’d even pick up a drug or alcohol addiction to forget everything that was haunting me. The death of Deimos and Yaa and Mik – and even Luci – would weigh so heavily upon my shoulders and I would be such a different person that it’d terrify me.

Tears stream down from Mik’s eyes and it hurts me to see him like this. He pulls me close and holds me tight, much to my relief, and I bury my face against his fuzzy suit until he shifts so that he can see my face. Pleas that I can’t fulfill fall from his mouth and all I can do is look helplessly at him, wanting to comfort him as much as he’s comforting me right now. ”I’ll see you again. I promise.” I may be depleted and exhausted but my words are as sincere as can be. ”Maybe not tomorrow, or in a week, or a few years, but we’ll find each other.” I know it isn’t what he wants to hear but it is all I can offer him.

I don’t quite understand what he means about everyone he loves dies until he leans over me and closes the distance between us, putting his lips to mine. It’s certainly not like any of the kisses I shared with Yaa when we had our little “escape” from the brutality of the arena, where pent-up stress and adrenaline fueled our moves and drove me into doing something I would never have pictured myself doing. No, this kiss is so much more than that. I feel his fear, his quivering lip against mine, the scent of blood and steel on his skin, and a ferocious passion that completely subdues me, catching me off guard.

I had always believed that love never existed and that people were only fooling themselves with the satisfaction of knowing that they had at least one person who would still sleep with them every night despite whatever they’ve done. This invisible string drawing people together never seemed realistic to me; Fate is only a destination, not those you meet along the way. Lovers are nothing more than friends with a different label attached to them. But the longer Mik’s lips work against mine I can feel some strange, foreign feeling stirring inside of me, whirling around like a growing desire. I find myself yearning, trying to lean into him, my desperation for physical contact growing by the second until the pain all over my body is too much and forces me to break away from him.

My breathing is ragged and shallow but now a new emotion is battling the pain to overwhelm me. Along with shocks of pulsing agony in my belly there’s also butterflies lightly flying around and easily dodging the shoots of pain, filling up the empty spaces as if it’s natural to be there. It’s terrifying. I’ve never felt such a lust for a single person and it petrifies me to think that everything I thought I knew about love is wrong.

I curl into him, tucking my face into the crook of his neck and trying to recognize his particular scent amidst the stale, coppery blood and muddy stench that surrounds us both. The blood continues to pour from the corner of my mouth but at least it’s not pooling and threatening to choke me since I’m already gasping and wheezing much harder than before, my mind searching all the while for something to say. ”I need the strong Mik,” my voice is awfully quiet and barely above a hoarse whisper as I recite the same words he spoke to me a only few days ago to keep me grounded and holding onto a small shred of sanity. ”I need that Mik that has hope. I need the Mik who thinks he has a chance cause we all have a chance, we all have a chance at going home. You just need to believe.”

[/justify][/color]
yea, the south wind sobs among the drowned creek courses
for sorrows no man shall bind---
ah, god! for the horses, the black plumed horses,
dear god! for the horses, death's own pale horses,
that raced in the tracks behind

A Gallop of Fire, Marie E J Pitt

Graphic credit to Kiah <3[/right]
[/center][/size]

[lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah]

[th][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=style, background-color: 322836; border-right:6px solid 5C5549; border-left:6px solid 5C5549; border-top:0px solid 5C5549; border-bottom:0px solid 5C5549;] Got me out here in the water so deep Tell me how you gonna be without me If you ain't here, I just can't breathe It's no air, no air

[/color][/font][/size][/center]

At first I thought he was going to push me away and look at me in disgust. I felt like an idiot. But the, then I felt his lips begin to word against mine. Gently at first before they began to work hard and more desperately. It was contagious and I felt myself begin to feel more excited and nervous. My stomach did small flips and my mind raced as we tried to get as close to each other as we could without hurting another. I had never felt anything like at. It was different to what I would have expected, so much more than I had ever dreamed of. I liked it. I liked the way it made my skin jump, the way my skin felt warm and then cold. It was so exhilarating.

And then Andy pulled away, breathing hard. The pain on his face was less obvious now and I felt something in my heart warm. I had helped him. Helped him feel less pain. He curled up into my side and I moved my arm to it hugged his body, holding him close to my side. I did not want him to ever leave, ever. But I knew that it was only a matter of time now. I let the tears that fill my eyes fall silently down my cheeks, not wanting Andy to know that I was still distressed about him dying. But of course I would be. I loved him; I loved him so much that losing him hurt so much, too much.

”I need the strong Mik,” His breathing is very wheezy as the words fall from his lips. But I hear them, I listen to them. They were the words I had said to him, on our second day in this hell whole. I felt my breath catch in my throat as I waited for the last part of the speech to escape his lips. ”I need that Mik that has hope. I need the Mik who thinks he has a chance cause we all have a chance, we all have a chance at going home. You just need to believe.” But what he didn’t know was that I had lost all hope. Nothing, nothing, was going to bring it back. I know he needed that Mik who seemed like he was invincible, that Mik who would run into a fight then run out again with barely a scratch… but that wasn’t me, not anymore. So much had changed in this place…. So much that I would never be that person again.

I had plotted against Andy and Yaa! I had wanted to kill them…. how could I ever have hope if I could not even look at Yaa again and remember the way my mind had swirled, begging my to slit her throat open. I couldn’t. But that wasn’t the only thing. Unlike him, or any other person in tis arena, I had nothing at home, nothing at home to go too. No family that loved me, and no friends who wouldn’t care if I came home in that wooden coffin. SO where was this ‘hope’ supposed to come from? His death? No, no way. “what hope Andy? Hope of going home? But home has nothing for me. I have no family who will be waiting relieved at the train station. I have no friends who would give a rats arse if I came back alive or in a body bag. I have nothing at home… my hope has been gone for a long time… I have nothing, nothing at all. Even you, even you are slowly leaving me.” I know it wasn’t his fault that he was dying…. But he was still leaving me, and I still hurt.

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template: penny

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graphics: stare

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song:

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word count: 0000

[/td][/tr]
[tr][td][th][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=style, background-color: 322836; border-left:6px solid 5C5549; border-right:6px solid 5C5549; border-bottom:6px solid 5C5549;]

notes: nothing :3
.

[/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[semper]

when the north wind moans thro' the blind creek courses
and revels with harsh, hot sand,
i loose the horses, the wild red horses,
i loose the horses, the mad, red horses,
and terror is on the land

He slips his arm around me and all that runs through my mind is I’m glad he’s here. I’m so glad he was able to find me and I’m so glad that he’s numbed some of the pain. I don’t know whatever feeling it is that’s creating knots in my belly but it feels good. The pain is still there, burning my insides, but where I’m in contact with Mik is a whole new feeling: a very warm and comforting sensation, one that I don’t want to lose anytime soon. "Don't talk like that, Mik. Everyone has something. It's those little things you never think anything of until they suddenly vanish. You're not gonna lose me; physically, yes, but I'm not going to leave you."

He doesn’t respond but that’s alright; I don’t need him to talk until the time comes because, honestly, I wouldn’t be paying attention. Words are just words and unless they are written down they are very easily forgotten, particularly in my case. Anything he says I’ll forget as soon as my heart stops beating, but this feeling – the warmth that’s seeping and spreading slowly through me – I know I won’t forget. The radiant feeling travels right up into my very core and actually makes me almost anxious. I’m still frightened of this new emotion but its demands aren’t anything to be afraid of: Mik is my friend, maybe even more than that, so I have nothing to fear. He has not judged me and I fully doubt he will do so during my last moments here with him. He’s the one that came for me, he’s the one that kissed me, he’s the one that’s pulling me close to him – I really doubt that he’d pull a dirty move on me now.

I start to wonder about Deimos and how he must have felt during his final moments. Maybe he was scared, confused, or even happy; did he die alone or in someone’s arms? Personally I hope that Yaa was there to soothe his pain while he passed. Doing anything alone is scary enough – maybe that’s why people fall into this love trap because they don’t want to face reality by themselves. Taking on each day with no one to comfort you is a very hard thing to deal with. That must be it. Then the kiss he and I shared – is that what it feels like, this whole concept of love? (A tingling on your skin, anxiety in your belly, your head up in the clouds.) The connection I felt was absolutely unmistakable and the new emotion leaves me craving more of it but I’m so tired, so exhausted, unable to lift myself up anymore. ”You proved me wrong, Mik. I guess love does exist.”

Despite the pain I’m absolutely comfortable lying against him, using his body as both a pillow and a source of warmth. The air is cold and my entire body is soaked with both water and blood, and my feet are bare for the first time in days with nothing to keep them warm. Right now Mikhail Ivashkov is my everything and I focus my entire conscience on him and his presence and contact, memorizing the feel of him against me. I’m not alone, I’m not alone. My only regret is that I never met him earlier. I hope we would’ve been good friends since the beginning, maybe have gone to the same school if we lived in the same district and spent the afternoons staying at each other’s house, playing pretend in the yard and saving imaginary worlds from the demons and bandits that prowl in the shadows. I would’ve come out of my shell a whole lot more from the very beginning, been braver at my father’s shows if I had known that there was at least one person for sure cheering me on in the audience, and not been such a hostile shut-in. It’s just terribly unlucky that we were only able to spend a few weeks together but these are the best weeks of my life despite every wound I’ve received.

It takes far too much effort for me to move my head so that I can see his face. The tears have stained his skin and his eyes are red but all I see is a friend who helped me through the most trying time of my life. Mik is a very good guy and I really hope he sees it. A trembling hand slowly lifts up and settles down onto his face, caressing his jawbone up to his ear, and I draw in a shallow breath. ”I’ll see you soon, alright? We’ll be waiting for you and Yaa. No rush though.” My eyes carry their gaze across his face as I try to remember everything about him as best I can: those dark irises, the thick curls of his hair, the curve of his cheekbones, everything that I never really thought about until now and for the first time since stepping into the arena I smile. There’s no one else I can think of, out of even my own family, that I’d find myself more comfortable with in my weakest moment. My thumb gently and slowly strokes the side of his face as I try to will myself to hang in just a few moments longer. Mikhail Ivashkov. Mik the warrior, Mik the fearless, Mik the best friend, Mik the gre—

[/justify][/color]
yea, the south wind sobs among the drowned creek courses
for sorrows no man shall bind---
ah, god! for the horses, the black plumed horses,
dear god! for the horses, death's own pale horses,
that raced in the tracks behind

A Gallop of Fire, Marie E J Pitt

Graphic credit to Kiah <3[/right]
[/center][/size]