into the lion's mouth |zori blitz|

[Sampson]

Will somebody believe in this suicide?
Am I the only one that thinks that you should stay alive?
Oh, I became ashamed as you backed up on the ropes to arm yourself and lie

As I make my way to the Justice Building, so that I may say good-bye to Iago, my face feels heavy. My cousin has voluntarily pulled my little brother from the grip of death and offered himself up as sacrifice instead. He has prevailed where I have failed. While I could do nothing but fight helplessly against the Peacekeepers, Iago used two simple words to preserve my world from being shattered. He did it for Sampson, not for me, but I want him to know how grateful I am.

Peacekeepers pull me in a direction as I enter the Justice Building and mutter Iago's name. He's my blood. The solemn thought makes my skin crawl as I walk down the corridor towards the room where they will be keeping my cousin. Iago is my blood, but from what I've seen of the Games, they have a way of making that mean close to nothing. Just like Aria and Bran Wolfe, whose blood ties hadn't kept each other from fighting, I had figured family only went so far when it came to the Hunger Games. I would have never put something as important as Sampson's life on the chances of a cousin saving him. But chance has once again blessed me, for we have a cousin who is either foolish enough or kind enough to go into the Games in Sampson's place.

The Peacekeeper opens the door and I walk in, trying to keep the turmoil of emotions from showing on my face. Instead of saying how grateful I am or asking him why he did it or telling him I'm sorry, I remain quiet as I watch Iago. It feels like I'm staring at a ghost. Is it cruel that my mind already registers him as dead, simply because I truly believe that if any Izar were to walk out of the arena it would have been Benat? I've got no right to dig him a grave just yet, but it doesn't stop me from doing so in my thoughts. Even if only in my head, Iago died when he saved Sampson, just the same as Sampson did when his name was called from the bowl. I think that's why I can't talk to my cousin.

I don't talk to ghosts.

And so I scream, "Mayday, I'm in trouble, send somebody on the double."
Scratching at the floor inside my mind
They all accept the lie
So bury what you are outside

[Deleted]

I a g o
I z a r – M c C l a i n e

•••

{If I get murdered in the city}
{Don't go revenging in my name}
{One person dead from such is plenty}
{No need to go get locked away}

•••

I’m all out of answers.

[/color]

For a boy so clever, I’m at a loss as to what to do now. Sitting in a hard oak chair near the windowsill, I’ve yet to move since the peacekeepers brought me here. In a few short hours I’ll be whisked away to the train, with more flashbulbs burning white pictures of my face, and the onto the train toward the capitol. I’ll never see the waves of grain along the fields, or listen to the strumming of a banjo in the town square ever again. I wait still for my parents, and wonder what is keeping them. Surely they want to see their boy, the good boy, the one who sacrificed himself for his cousin.[/color] They tried hard to be McClaines, but a whole half of us were still Izar. I take a breath. They have to come, don’t they?[/color]

Turning away from the sun and toward my shadow, I slump my chin onto my palms. There wasn’t anything here for me. A shit hole of a district, the boys and girls grew up into simpletons that plucked plants from fields. For a mind like my own, one that could do algebra and read the few classics from the capitol that we could get our hands onto—what future did I have? Sampson had more than his brother to lose. You could see his history etched into his face: summers tilling fields, nights watching stars, and a family little Izars treading underneath his own feet. The capitol would have blown him away with the rest of the dust: no more a memory than his dead brother.

A twist of the brass knob has me looking up, and a peacekeeper enters. To my surprise it’s not my family, but my cousin—Deval. I wave to the peacekeeper and clear my throat. I half expect him to call me stupid, but no words come. The two of us are closer in age, but I mostly kept away from Deval. Of all the Izars, he seemed to have more thoughts running through his head. Half expected that he would have run off and away from that family by now, but he stands firm, his roots planted right alongside his little brother. “You get what you wanted?” I ask for the both of us. I’m not sure if either of us have an answer yet. “Sampson better not waste what I gave him, you know?”[/blockquote][/size][/justify]

[Sampson]

Will somebody believe in this suicide?
Am I the only one that thinks that you should stay alive?
Oh, I became ashamed as you backed up on the ropes to arm yourself and lie

"You get what you wanted?" the ghost talks and I can't explain why, but his voice makes goosebumps erupt across my skin. It's enough to bring him back to life. The simple question, one I cannot answer, means a few more moments of life in my eyes. Iago lives on just a little while longer within the boundaries of District 11. Our conversation is enough to trick my mind into believing that my cousin isn't entirely gone just yet. I feel a weight lift off of my shoulders for a moment, even though Iago poses such a heavy question. Am I finally happy? Is this what I want? I know I want Sampson's life, more than anything else, but I don't know if I want Iago marching off to war in his place. By wanting—no, allowing—someone to save my little brother from death, I am now indebted. Iago has become my indirect savior, yet now I am an indirect murderer. For whatever happens in the arena, whether the blood Iago bleeds or spills, it will be on my hands just as much as his. I wanted a substitute and now I have one, but the consequences of my desires must be equal to the reward I have received.

Things would be a lot less complicated if I could have just volunteered my life to kill or be killed. It'd also be nice if I could even get out a reply. While I'm not chatty, I've never been so empty of words. "Sampson better not waste what I gave him, you know?" Iago looks at me like I know anything at all. I figure now's the time for a response, any kind at all, so I spit out the first thing that comes to mind.
"You didn't give him anything," I immediately know it's the wrong thing to say, but I must finish what I started, "You just let him keep what he already had." My hand rubs the back of my neck as I continue to stand stiffly in front of Iago. What am I saying? Why can't I just be grateful that he saved Sampson's life? He's going to face awful things in place of my brother, probably die for my brother, and all I can do is correct him. If I thought my good-bye to Benat wasn't good enough, this certainly trumps it as the worst. The room suddenly feels hotter as I open my mouth to try and recover.

"But I've never known Sampson to waste anything in his life," I speak with an emptiness in my voice that I hope Iago doesn't take as hopelessness. He must have some clue how awful I feel for being so selfish about Sampson and how confusing the entire thing is emotionally. But I have no excuse. I am not going to die in the arena with 22 other tributes. I have not volunteered. Iago has, so I should be nothing but grateful.

And so I scream, "Mayday, I'm in trouble, send somebody on the double."
Scratching at the floor inside my mind
They all accept the lie
So bury what you are outside

[Deleted]

I a g o
I z a r – M c C l a i n e

•••

{If I get murdered in the city}
{Don't go revenging in my name}
{One person dead from such is plenty}
{No need to go get locked away}

•••

You didn’t give him anything.

[/color] Deval corrects me, and it takes all I have not to sneer at him. You just let him keep what he already had.[/color] My world may have collapsed, but it’s nice to know that Sampson has everything he was supposed to have. I wipe my arm across my nose and give a grin. That I was doing this entirely for Sampson was enough of a reason, though I figure Deval to be smarter than that. Of all the Izars, I could see him understanding more of the world—the one that didn’t dream of stars or break apart like Benat or Sampson. Weren’t we supposed to be the martyrs of the games, sucking up both reason and feeling for our decision to take on death? There had never been a volunteer to win, had there? And there was insidious hope, giving me a chance.[/color]

“Don’t let him get away,” I say, looking at Deval. “He’s got heart and that’s not much here. You and I know it, Deval. He’s got maybe a few years before that changes.” I look at the floor and back up to him again. How many boys could say they’d been saved from the reaping? “You know you all got to keep safe, don’t go doing anything stupid.” I say with a grin. He was the only one that would come and see me. I had no sour words for him. The Izar boys had done and liberated me; despite my world blurring I had not thought Deval needed anything more than the truth. That I could give it to him, man to man, was more than enough for me.

“I only have one thing to ask you,” I say stepping close. “If I can?” I look at the boy—because he certainly hasn’t become a man yet, has he? I look at Deval with a grin. The whole world was shaping around me, and all I had to hold onto were my words. What I said here would live on as long as he did. I cleared my throat and gave a grin. I don’t know what was expected. I suppose we were supposed to make nice, hug, extol my virtue for saving Sampson. And yet all I wanted was to spend time with my cousin. I wait, smile brimming across my face, for his answer.[/blockquote][/size][/justify][/color]

[Sampson]

Will somebody believe in this suicide?
Am I the only one that thinks that you should stay alive?
Oh, I became ashamed as you backed up on the ropes to arm yourself and lie

Iago is kind enough to forgive my first words. He lets the awkward, unnecessary first comment I made go by without so much as a sneer. It makes me wonder if he is more of a man than I am. If I had just opted to die for someone's brother and been told I technically didn't save his life, I would have torn them to shreds. My eyebrows furrow as I think. Watching my cousin, he has never seemed more like a stranger. It's hard to imagine us from our younger years, running around in the tall grass of our parents' front yard playing games that are meant for children. Now, I see him dying in some horrible way. He's being slaughtered like Benat, lying in pools of blood with his life seeping out of him.

When Iago starts to talk again, the awful images in my head melt away into darkness. I must surely have some kind of hope for my cousin. He's not so foolish that the odds will be completely against him. "You know you all got to keep safe, don’t go doing anything stupid," he informs me and I can't help but smile. I won't do anything stupid. I can't afford to be stupid, and neither can Sampson, now that his life is worth two. I'll make sure we're safe. Somehow. I nod slightly to make sure Iago knows I'm paying attention. My lack of words baffles even me.

"I only have one thing to ask you. If I can?" he grins at me like he might actually think I'll turn down his request. It's enough to kill my own smile.
"Anything," I answer, my teeth closing to bite down on my lip. What will my cousin's final wish of me be? I can hardly imagine what he would want. I'm just the lucky Izar brother who hasn't had his name drawn from the bowl yet. Of all three of us, the slips of my name have not been pulled forth yet. But that does not make me special. I am lucky and eventually, my luck will run out. It almost feels undeserved that Iago would ask anything of me. Of course, no matter how I feel about it will not change that it has happened. Iago wants something of me and I am so perfectly indebted to him that I can deny him nothing.

And so I scream, "Mayday, I'm in trouble, send somebody on the double."
Scratching at the floor inside my mind
They all accept the lie
So bury what you are outside

[Deleted]

I a g o
I z a r – M c C l a i n e

•••

{If I get murdered in the city}
{Don't go revenging in my name}
{One person dead from such is plenty}
{No need to go get locked away}

•••

I lick my lips. My father and mother have taught me to depend on no one but myself for anything. Here and now, in what could have been my last moments in the district, I’ve got no one to lean on but Deval. My parents have abandoned me—forsaking me in their shame that their son was more married to this family than they were. Would that I could be smarter and known that it wasn’t about me, after all. Every bit that I had learned, every breath taken and every permission granted had about molding me. They created me, had me becoming the boy that jumped when they told me how high and would turn in my own cousin if it saved my soul. And in this moment I’m short of breath, a lump in my throat. Am I really fourteen, or has time reversed, and the two of us are sitting on a log out by the hill on their farm

[/color]?

But anger replaces whatever had been building inside. Who was I? I look to the lines on Deval’s face. I think of Sampson calling out in the square. Two boys that are married to this district in an almost unspeakable way. Would that I could love anything as much as Sampson loved the stars. Or that I could have been a good older brother, rushing to his aid when all was lost. I like to think I would have been a good older brother, had I gotten the chance. I rub a hand across my nose, and clear my throat. Deval is on baited breath for my question, and I’ve almost lost my courage. Here he’s will to do what I say,[/color] I think, even if we aren’t brothers, or close.[/color] I want to say how sorry I am about Benat, and about never being there in the months after. But my throat is dust and I look away.

“I’m coming back.” I say, my voice low. “Probably in a casket, but even still.” I stop. I hold up my hands, waving away any notion of his to say otherwise before he can get out a word. “You have to promise me: by the time I get back here, you and Sampson are going to go. Run. Get out of here.” I plead, I beg, I look at him with all the fire I can muster in my eyes. “They’ve come for Benat. They came for Sampson. You’re next. And Sampson can’t go on without you. You know that.” I sigh. “Get out of here and never come back. You two are too good for this place. I swear it.”[/blockquote][/size][/justify]