Through The Dark {Mylee}

[Kingston Cesaire D3A [Tom]]

Does, Says, Thinks

Dallas was out of his comfort zone for once. The strong guy who many people relied on to keep them going. Dallas was currently still standing outside the Justice Building for some reason. The reaping was insane this year. They had a volunteer this year. Owen was his name, he seemed to be nice and cared about his younger brother who was reaped. Duncan was his name and currently he was inside the building that he was outside of. What had made him stay here just for the younger brother, he didn't know. He just felt the need to. His past had been coming out a lot in his head watching the Bowers-Fox brothers. There was no doubt that he knew how it felt for both brothers. The day his mother died was the one memory that flashed through his mind during the reaping. The memory of hearing Austin crying from the other room as Dallas had came in from his trip into town. Duncan was going to have to watch his brother possibly die and the only though that Dallas had running through his head was that Duncan needed someone to be there for him. Someone like Dallas to keep his feet steady during this time.

The other brother, Owen, Dallas knew what he was feeling too. The idea of his little brother being reaped and having to protect him. The idea of that he'd never see him again. The idea of losing someone you love dearly. Dallas lost a sibling when the baby was in his mother. At the time, Dallas had no idea why his mother was sad, but now he does. Dallas had almost lost Austin once to a very big guy who wanted to kill him, but Dallas did a favor here and there to solve the problem. Dallas would do anything for his little brother. He'd do anything for anyone. His family was the laughing stalk already. His father was insane. His brother is a bit of a downer. He was too helpful and nice. And his mother was dead. They were outcasts of District 8. Last games District 8 had a girl who had went farther than District 8 has ever been, since the 62nd, with Bran and Aria Wolfe. They had no sibling bond. That went away when the games started. Owen's and Duncan's bonds made Dallas want to stay by Duncan to help him through out this experience.

The blond had been waiting for awhile already. The sun was already going down. Dallas was about to leave because he was bored and it was getting a bit chilly, even though it was summer time. Dallas watched as this kid, who he easily found out was Duncan, beginning to walk out of the Justice building. For just a second or so, Dallas was taking in the other blonde's features. He wasn't very extraordinary, but he had some features that would set him a part from many people in the district. For one, his hair seemed to move on it's own, unlike Dallas, who always tried to do stuff with his hair. Duncan had more features that should be more upbeat and not as different as now. Duncan looked like he was having a hard time with the whole brother volunteering thing. Dallas couldn't tell if he had cried or didn't. Dallas felt his stomach twist in the fact that he was staring at this boy. Duncan may be younger than him, but height wise, you'd think Duncan was older. He was just a bit taller from what he could tell from the creepy distance he was at.

Once Dallas realized that Duncan was walking away, he made his move. He ran over as fast as he could, his feet having a mind of their own as he went closer and closer to the other male. He caught up easily, after Duncan turned to look who it was, probably hoping not to be mugged. Dallas' arms made his way onto the other boy as he wrapped them around the taller boy's back. Dallas had no clue what was making him do this, but he wanted to comfort him. The younger boy seemed to remind him of his little brother, but at the same time not. Dallas had no clue what was going through his mind. Through the dark of the night, Dallas was hugging a stranger. Someone he didn't know. He felt like crying, like a little baby, but he wouldn't not in front of this already broken guy. He wouldn't let him break anymore. He'd help him. Hell, he'd fix him. Fill the cracks in with glue. That was the one thing everyone could count on Dallas to do. He filled in the cracks where they were needed. He was like a little problem solver, he fixed everyone's problems, but never his own. Inside, he was already broken, like a smashed plate. The shards were too much to fix, so he was thrown into the trash. Dallas squeezed a bit tighter holding onto the guy even more.

The thoughts of his mother coming to mind. He felt the anger and the sadness jumbling up inside of him. There was a very awkward silence already, but Dallas wasn't going to let go, he'd hold on as long as Duncan needed to. The heat was warm and made Dallas feel better and calmed himself down. He needed to seem confident and strong for Duncan. He needed to show that even complete strangers can care for someone just by what they saw. He knew the world was a cruel, cruel place, but that wouldn't stop him from making it a little less cruel one step at a time. Dallas' voice was a bit rough already from the shock of the reaping, but he spoke as softly and calm as he could to Duncan, "I'm sorry." Those were the only two words that would probably mean nothing to Duncan, but truly, Dallas spoke it with honesty. He was sorry that Duncan was going to have to go through this terrible pain and sorrow. That was all Dallas could think of, was both of the brothers. Dallas silently listened for anything. At that moment, all Dallas really wanted was to be a hero. A hero for Duncan.

Tags: Mylee | Words: 1,053
Other: ~Table credit to Kire~

[Deleted]

-journal entry #8, start time 10:52 on the morning of June 6th I’m empty as I watch Owen walk up the stage and take my place. Silence overwhelms me and the thought of screaming crosses my mind, but there’s no way to muster up the courage to do so, and even more than that, what would screaming accomplish? It wouldn’t bring back Owen, and it wouldn’t reverse time to the point at which my name wouldn’t be picked and some other poor family would have to go through what was now ripping us apart. Owen was the fragile stitching that held our family together, and that one slip of paper had been our downfall. Tremors rack my body, and tears threaten to spill over until Cody comes up behind me and places a hand on my shoulder. He starts to push me forward a bit, and I don’t realize that he’s leading me towards the building that Owen’s been taken to until we’re almost at the base of the stairs. I start to lean back against his body, refusal to face Owen flooding through every muscle in my body. However, Cody refuses to listen to my protests, and before I can really gather any sensible thoughts, I’m standing face to face with the brother I thought never cared. We sit down in silence, just staring at each other (I’m so sorry. I don’t deserve to live and you don’t deserve to die, and I’m so sorry). Eventually I can’t meet his gaze anymore, and the floor receives the first of many tears. His hand finds its way to my back, and I don’t refuse as he does his best to console me. Despair pushes its way into my heart as I realize that he shouldn’t be the one taking care of me now, but I had never been the leader, and I never could be, even now, when I was needed most. Our silence is disturbed the door opening and the guard letting us know that our time was up. I rub the majority of the tears on my shirt, but a few remain as Owen pulled me to my feet, standing only inches away before holding his hand out. I reach out to shake it, but before I get there he pulls me tightly into a hug, the first and last one we’ve shared in the last few years. His words are quiet, but they hit me like an asteroid, and once again my breath hitches. “Take care of Cody, and Mom, and Dad, and please Duncan, if you do anything for them, stay with them after I’m gone; they’ll need you more than you realize.” Words refuse to make their way from me, so I nod in response before letting the heavy, wooden doors shut away the last memories I’ll ever share with my brother. Cody isn’t anywhere to be found, so I assume that he’s gone in to share a few last moments with Owen as well. There’s simply no way he would leave without saying goodbye. I couldn’t bear to stay around the wretched building any longer, so I push my way out into the stale air and wander in the general direction of home; I’ll get there eventually. I’m used to the noise, for it’s usually what fills ever void of silence that my brothers have created, and I’m usually the one filling it. However, today, it’s all too much to listen to, so I draw myself in as tightly as possible and walk in the direction opposite of the crowd. I couldn’t be met with questions at this point, and really, I was just longing to find my way back to Tweed, to be comforted by her silence and presence. She would be somewhere looking for me, making sure that she could keep me from spiraling further into insanity. She’s been my foundation of stability for the last few months, but I’m not sure if even she can save me from slipping away now. I’ve never been well-known in the district, so it comes as a surprise when I see a boy with blond hair making his way towards me at a rather quick pace. My first words come out rather slurred, a broken whisper at best, “Look, I don’t know what you want, but I—” My words stop abruptly as he pulls me into a hug, and I stand there rigid for a moment before slowly letting my muscles relax. His words comfort me even further, even though they’re only a simple “I’m sorry.” It doesn’t matter that I don’t know who this is or why they cared enough to stop me, but for once in my life, I don’t care. For once, the details don’t matter. I draw back after a bit, letting my hands run through my hair as I keep my gaze focused on the cracks in the sidewalk. My foot shuffles about, as I think of ways to break the tension. I can see his feet out of my peripheral vision, so I know he hasn’t walked away, much to my sorrow. I finally attempt to let my voice find itself, and for the first time today, it does, “I don’t—I don’t think I know who you are. I mean, obviously you know who I am, but,” I pause for a moment to read his reaction, and in turn the break in words reminds me that I never thanked him for his unconsented consolation. “Thank you, for uh—making sure I was okay. Even if I’m not really okay, I appreciate the thought.” I immediately regret my choice of words, hoping that he didn’t take them offensively. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate his actions, no, it just was due to the fact that fathoming anything right now, and past that, making something of it even if I managed to wrap my head around it, was out of the question. Everything seemed horribly complex, like the formulas Cody jotted down without hesitation or the descriptions I scrawled rapidly in a random notebook. Nothing was simple anymore.