paper {cranes} -- drift in {ashes} [dee]

[shrimp]

Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high,
There's a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby.

She never really understood what it was like to lose someone. Yes, she had lost Trace, but compared to her brother, he was nothing - just a more-than-crush that had been unfortunate enough to have died on Day 1, even with his large build and intimidating stature. Storm was a whole different story. He hadn't died the first day, which led Sundra to run to the Square, or home whenever she could, just to make sure that he was alright. And for a long time (or what seemed like eternity in her mind), he was. She witnessed his pain, his tears, his grief, cried sometimes just because she wanted him back home, and as each day passed, she felt like he would be able to do so.

It had been Day 5 after all, and there were only 5 left. 19 kids had already died, and Storm seemed to be the least damaged. She had actually rejoiced that day, happy that he was alright. He was still alive, she could still have hope - her family could still have hope. Mr. and Mrs. Wie were always in good spirits after they found out the whereabouts of their son. It helped them, she noticed, get through the day when the workload increased and the animals grew sicker every day. She had gone to get a job at the oil processing plant the week prior to the bloodbath, and returned home late, for after her work hours she would help her family on the farm. Storm's survival helped her go to sleep at night, otherwise she'd be kept awake with the prospects of not being able to take care of themselves anymore. If Storm could survive murderous teenagers, she could survive this.

But her logic was terribly flawed, for that day Storm got hit by lightening. She hadn't learned about this until she walked inside the house however, and found Io sobbing on the floor, talking about how some brightbright thing had hit their brother with a crackle. She was frightened, but she couldn't panic, so she kept her fear to herself until she was alone in her room, when the tears came. Sundra had thought things that day that she'd never speak of - if one knew that she had thought this, then she would be shot for sure, or at the very least sent to the Detention Center. But nevertheless, those thoughts were there; it was somewhat similar to her thoughts when Trace died, only they were much more personal. Why do they do this anyway? What the hell is their problem? They're all kids! And now my brother's screwed.

And he expired the next day. Damn Heron Kimberling, she thought, the bitterness overflowing into such rage that she simply stalked out the door and laid on the lawn, tears streaming down her face. She was silent as she cried - it wouldn't be right to just let herself go like that. She had her sisters to take care of, and as if it were on cue she felt the light pitter-patter of feet and sat up only to be tackled by a bawling Io. She was only seven, she didn't need to witness such things. The death of a brother was too much for her - perhaps she'd never forget this. Oh, Sundra just wanted to remove this memory from her sister's thoughts, just so she'd be able to walk around like normal, but she didn't have magic powers. She was just a girl with too much responsibility on her hands, and the only thing she could do at this point was hug her younger sister until the crying ebbed away, replaced by sniffles.

"You okay?" she asked, hands on the younger one's shoulders. She simply mumbled "Yeah," playing with Sundra's necklace, which she had been wearing for the past week or so. Without another word, the seven year old walked back into the house, entranced with the red gem. Sundra simply wearily looked on, before joining her. What had once been a brighter environment was now melancholy and downcast, the candles illuminating the dark room seeming more ominous than cheery, soft sobs echoing from her parents' room. She sighed once, shoulders drooping, staring at a flame which flickered slightly before finally giving out, sort of similar to how her brother...

She walked away quickly, face becoming paler by the second. She was the parent now, even with her job. She would be on her own now; there was no more Storm to help calm the girls down. No more Storm to help her calm down either. She'd have to take care of them well now, and hopefully they would be spared from the reapings - she wouldn't be able to bear if Europa was reaped, or if Io was (but she was seven - she had so many years ahead of her) reaped - if she was reaped, Sundra wouldn't even be able to volunteer in her place. She shuddered once, trying to rid herself of the wild imagination that had rooted itself in her cranium, before tentatively walking towards Europa's room, pausing at the doorframe.

What if she got yelled at again? What if Europa was so mad and upset that she said things that would make the older girl break down?

"I hate you; Storm's better than you are!"

She wouldn't be a good parent. She wouldn't be able to handle herself if she were to break down every time someone said something to her. But she was in this position, that was the problem. And ready or not, she'd have to face it, and if they turned out all discombobulated and wrong, well then she would have only herself to blame. So she took a shallow breath, before calling Europa's name. Perhaps Europa needed someone, and Sundra would try her hardest to be there, no matter what.

After all, they were sisters, were they not?

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

---
She's all laid up in bed
with a broken heart
---

The Games had always been troubling for Europa to watch, but they were never more so than the 57th Games. She hated the idea of watching the tributes go through their misery for who knew how long, but she was glued to the television set the moment she came home from school. She couldn’t bear not knowing what was happening to her big brother, to see how he was doing in her worst nightmare. Her brown eyes never left the screen just in case Storm would come up, and when he did, Europa would stare at the figure she called an older brother. From the first day, Europa refused to believe that it really was Storm who kept striking at all those innocent people; the Storm she knew would try to be as merciful as possible. He would never inflict any damage on anyone, no matter how mean they were to him. So whenever she saw Storm attack someone, she persuaded herself that it wasn’t really him, that it was just another boy who looked like Storm. A huge feat as there were few in District 5 already who looked like Storm, let alone the whole Panem.

There was a loud yelp, Europa remembered that, when she watched Storm get struck by lightning. She had hid behind her arms as she curled herself up into a small ball, afraid that Storm would not get up and keep fighting. She remembered her parents telling her that he would be alright, her father pointing out to her that the direction of the electricity surely missed his vital organs, her mother lazily patting her on the arms as she tried to hide her own worry. And all Europa could think about was yelling at Storm to get up, that her parents were doing nothing to help him. She wanted to yell at Sundra and ask her to pick Storm up, to assure her that Storm was alive. Still, she did nothing but stay in formation.

She would have been lying if she had said that she didn’t feel angry, betrayed, at what Storm was doing when he had woken up. Her big brother never would have asked to die; he might have used it as a joke, but Europa was sure that Storm would at least put up a fight. Staring at the screen, she tried to formulate an argument against Storm, a way for her to get him to snap out of it. She was so close to turning to Sundra and telling her to do something, that she was caught off-guard when she heard her name coming from the television. She had looked around wide-eyed, wondering if it had been one of her family members who had spoken her name, before turning to the television set and realizing that a family member had called her name; it was just the family member she did not expect to hear from. What Storm had to say to her was none too kind and it left Europa stunned as she wondered how her brother could be so harsh on her. She was supposed to grow up? Just because she wanted her older brother home? I hate you, Storm! You’re just giving up. You’re going back on your promise!

No sooner had those thoughts left her mind did that knife come into contact with Storm’s head. Her eyes grew as wide as possible and she felt frozen as she sat there. She could hear a light cough coming from her father, probably his way of accepting the fact that his son had just died. Her mother, her fragile as of late mother, broke into sobs, her shoulders heaving with every loud gasp. Sundra simply got up and left the house, and Io was bawling like she did when she stubbed her toe the week before. Europa remembered the last time the house had been so tense, before the Hunger Games began. Everyone was arguing and Storm had left the house, just like what Sundra did. And Europa had run after, only to be told off by her older sister. She had shouted hateful words at Sundra, and never really apologized for her speech. But that time…that time she couldn’t even move, not even to follow her sister. While Europa kept sitting there, she saw Io scramble up and leave the house as well, probably wishing to seek comfort from her oldest sister. She grimaced as she watched her father stand up and silently coax her mother up. The two were no doubt grieving, but not like Europa did. They didn’t love Storm like she did.

As soon as she watched the hovercraft take Storm’s body, she turned off the television set and made her way to her room, closing the door firmly and not wishing to talk to anyone in her family. Sitting on her bed, Europa grabbed the bracelet of wooden beads Storm had given her before he had left. She was sure he wanted her to give them to the family, but she had held on to it personally so when he came back, she could be the one who gave him the accessory he loved. Loved… It felt so weird when that word rolled off Europa’s mental tongue. She tried it again, this time speaking aloud. “Loved...Storm loved this bracelet.” It felt like a stab to her heart as she heard the words ring in her ears. He’s gone…he’s really gone…

And the tears started falling. Her big brother was the one she always looked up to, the one who would think up the genius plots to get work done. They would tease Sundra together, make fun or complain about little Io. You weren’t supposed to leave me! You weren’t supposed to go! Why, Storm? Why did you go? We still need you here! Europa sobbed as she held on to his bracelet tightly, not expecting so much emotion to spill out at one time. She knew she should have been more prepared for this, but there was just something about this that she could not let go. Was it because of what she said? Did her words determine whether Storm lived or died?

She heard her name the second time that day, but this time it definitely was not from Storm. He wouldn’t be saying her name for a really long time. The voice sounded too young for it to be her mother’s, but it was definitely not the child-like voice of Io. Which meant…it could only be Sundra. Europa didn’t know how she was supposed to see her big sister, especially when the both of them had met with Storm together. There was still that feeling of resentment, that burning wish that Sundra had done something more, but at the same time, all she really wanted from her big sister was a hug. Wrapping the bracelet around her own wrist, making a few turns more only because her wrist was smaller than Storm’s, she decided that she would be strong, that she wouldn’t show her sadness to Sundra. After all, Sundra had enough to go through already.

But the moment she opened the door, she couldn’t control what was already coming out. She wrapped her arms around her sister’s thin frame, wishing they could be around Storm’s trunk. She almost willed herself to believe that it was Storm she was hugging, that he had returned from the Games, but the space was too empty between the circle her arms made. Not knowing how she could accept that fact, she buried her head into Sundra’s upper body, tears still running down her face. “I don’t want him to go, Sundra. He can’t leave us so soon!”

She looked up at her sister and plead with her eyes, sorrow still coming in waves over her small body. “Tell me he’s still here. Tell me that he’s back. Tell me, Sundra! Please…just say it.”

[shrimp]

“Tell me he’s still here. Tell me that he’s back. Tell me, Sundra! Please…just say it.”

Oh how she wanted to utter those two words, but "Storm's alive" would never be a true statement. Sooner or later his casket would be returned, his stone-cold body lying on the wooden slab, palms crossed over each other. There would be no more smiles, no more laughs or any of his annoying antics that always had gotten on her nerves. Storm Wie was truly gone, whisked away by a knife to the brain into the Great Unknown. He wouldn't see any of them again, maybe not even when they went to join him in the afterlife. Who even knew what happened afterwards anyways? The chances of seeing a loved one post-mortem was unknown. So how would it be possible for Sundra to say that he could be seen while they were still living and he had been separated?

So the statement never left her mouth. Instead, a quiet sob did, and that frustrated her. She had to be strong for her sister, ready to assist her with overcoming what ever would come her way, not start breaking down, unable to help the only other one who just might not be able to overcome it by herself. Io was young - she would forget, as all young ones did once they reached a certain age. Her parents, while able to remember the event until their deaths, were strong enough to get through it with each other. But Europa and Sundra - well they were the fragile ones, the girls who were most at stake for having a breakdown. And if she were to break now, what would prevent Europa from doing the same? No, she had to hold on to her sadness, use it as a tool to help Europa, not some way to dissolve into a puddle of sadness and pity.

Instead of allaying Europa's all-too true fears, she reached down, giving her the biggest hug that she had ever given. Tears streamed down her face, for the little one's head was not able to see her face. Hands did not attempt to imitate Storm's way of consoling. Instead, they simply stayed there, gripping slightly onto her sister's clothes, feeling the warmth emanating from her body. They were always so similar, the two of her siblings. Except now, Storm's hands would be as cold as ice, while Europa's would still be pumping blood for a time. She would make sure of it. If harm ever befell Europa, she would be there - more so than before, for now she was both the mother and the father. The protector and the caretaker. The playful and the strict one. Both worlds, combined into one seventeen-year old girl. She'd be the best mother and the best father in the entire world.

Failure was not an option.

Perhaps the sun set, or the moon rose out of the sky and decorated the sky with glitter and sequins that sparkled and shined. Perhaps time ended, or rewound. Perhaps the heavens themselves crashed down to earth, covering the land with fire and chaos. But she didn't notice. There was no time to, after all. Not when Europa needed her, and not when she needed Europa.