peter ulysses | d11 (cb)

[MATTIO]

Peter has to be strong today. He must be strong as a sense of obligation swipes closer and closer to his neck. Memories of Danny– Ulysses, as he'll call him forevermore– killed in the Games yesterday come back through foggy memories of yesterday. There was a temporary sense of disbelief in Peter, a childlike reflex he learned when his parents passed away. The difference between "can't" and "shouldn't" holds no weight in his mind. He picks refusal: my big brother can't be dead, this can't be happening again.

The lack of luck pinches him awake the morning after. Peter's four three siblings all lined up sleeping between two sofas. He counts each of them: Shan, the oldest girl, along with Andrew and Rose, his younger siblings. Ulysses figured out how to game his grandparents into leaving them alone. When they'd play and make a mess in the yard, Ulysses (the oldest of them,) would make one twice as large with fireworks on the rooftop to boot. Grandma and Grandpa are strict toward them only when Ulysses hasn't exhausted all their energy. Normally, the youngest child is the menace and the middle child the rebel, but it's always been them.

Peter holds his breath as he opens the front door, scared of the wind that might breathe the fact of the matter into his heart. The smell of roses, tulips, and hydrangeas greets him, tied up in small bouquets or see-through glass. He sees through the veil of comfort that faulty condolences have built around him like a dome.

Yesterday was real: his brother died, a million charged kernels popping through his body. What a horrible sight to remember. Peter's little brother, Andrew, comes outside to sit with him. He holds his brother, the brunt of support in this new time bearing down like tons upon his spine.

peter ulysses -- district eleven -- twelve
ratmas cb 2/4

[d7m fraser birk ♚ frankel]

Gotta be strong little guy! Love him.