Hit the Lights {TLB} {Jay's Death}

[Tom]

  JAY  KREARNS 

district four tribute

There is always something people cherish. Some cherish friendships. Some cherish love. Some cherish family. Some cherish knowledge. Everyone cherishes something. Jay even had something he cherished the most. His life. He always was selfish. He had watched his mother and father leave. He has watched his eldest brother die. He watched his older brother die. He even watched the tributes at bloodbath die. The District 3's. The District 9 female. And even allowed his district partner to die.

Jay was falling now. His one thing he cherished slowly and painfully disappearing. Jay knew now that it was the end of the line for him. His last moments in this world. He didn't think he'd go out this way. Death by his allies. The ground was getting closer and closer. He could feel the impacting coming, but he hit something before he hit the ground. The girl from District 8 who just let him fall from there. A shriek of sorts came out of her mouth and Jay felt himself cry. The girl had moved his head to retrieve something. Her words were meaningful, but not enough, "I'm sorry." She wasn't sorry though. She had helped kill him. His tears were falling just like he had. The ground was cold and rough, kind of like the sand in district 4 during the night time. He missed home. He missed it more than he missed anything and he's missed quite a bit in all ways. The other alliance ran away. Jay had to move. He had to make it to the nearest wall and sit up. He couldn't walk with the broken leg of his. He just crawled and crawled as best as he can to the nearest wall.

The ground was scratching him as he dragged his useless and cut up legs across the ground. Tears forming on his face from the pain. He had to fight the pain though. He had to do that. He had to make it to the wall, so he can relax. He had to get there to die in a better looking way and not lifelessly on the ground. He didn't want to die laying there. He wanted to be sitting up. He wanted to look like he was fine. He needed to look fine. He needed to seem like he'd live. He needed to look his strongest in this moment. Once he reached the wall, he leaned himself against it. The wall was cold just like the ground. Jay just felt cold in that moment. Earlier that day he was warm, not cool. He was giving off heat. Now he couldn't feel his hands. They were freezing. His legs were numb from the pain. The energy was draining from his body. He was dying. He knew this. It was his time.

His allies were in dark. Jay tried to yell for them, but his voice was weak and more of a whisper that echoed on the walls, "Blaire. Jim." His body was aching now. Jay's hands were coated in blood. His sword was somewhere out there. Jay's fingers were the first thing that were moving. his arms moving next to him as he begins to write using the blood. The first name to appear is Mason. His habit of whispering coming through, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't be the good little brother. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry I couldn't avenge you." Memories of brother flashing through his mind. The day he told Mason he was gay. The day Davy died. The day his parents left. The day Mason told him he was going to be okay. The day Mason left. The day that Mason died. It was all flying through his head so fast. Mason was always the strong one. The one that kept Jay moving, but he wasn't there. He wasn't there to help Jay keep himself up. Jay held a brief smile.

The next names were Davy, Mom, and Dad. The names were some of the ones he hated to say. "Mom, I miss you. I miss you more than you ever know. Dad was a mean man, but I miss you both. You both taught me right from wrong. Davy. There's so much I would want to say. The first one is I'm sorry. Sorry for everything. I am a mutt like you used to say. I love you." The memories of the sweet mother reading Jay books about life and romance and other things. His father teaching him how to surf. Davy surfing with him. Davy's humor and smile always appearing. The day Davy died. The sorrow on his mother's face. His father dragging her out of the house to never be seen again by Jay. His father disappearing too. Jay felt tears coming out of his side. His family was messed. They had problems. Jay felt like it was always him. He felt he was the problem. Maybe he was, but now he would never find out.

The next names on the wall that are written in Jay's blood after moving to get more blood from his wounds were Miles and Curse. "Miles. I.. I hope you live your life to the fullest. You are a great guy and you'll find someone great. You are the best cousin ever. I love you. Curse... I'm sorry that I broke up with you. You are great and I expect big things from you." Jay's mind had flashes of Curse and him dating. The first time they met. The first kiss they had. The first time Jay felt happy after Mason. Jay's first time. Then the nasty break up. Then Miles came along and became one of his favorite people in the world. Seeing Miles stay over and talk about anything. Miles' hugs. Miles' smile. Jay just smiled as much as he could because of Miles. He had failed to come home. That last hug was the best hug he has ever received.

The next names that he wrote were Zelphyr, Leon, Jim, and Blaire. His voice was still in a whisper, "Zelphyr. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you and let you die in bloodbath. Hey, we both are failures... Leon, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about the pain you've had to suffer and I know how you feel. I know how you feel. I'm sorry that I failed to keep District 4 in the games. Jim and Blaire. I'll get to you two soon." Jay had memories of the train ride and the training center. The memory of the private training session. The fiery gaze he had on many of the tributes. He wanted them all dead, but ended up that he died. He lost the fight. He lost himself. Day 2 was a bad day. It was always a bad day for him. Jay felt his hands turning numb from the cold. A small breeze making it colder.

The last name that was put on the wall in his blood was Jev. He had so much to say to Jev. Jev was one of those weird guys in his life. His voice was hoarse and quiet from the pain, "I..I always loved you. I know you never loved me. I understood. I always did though. You were the start of my catching up in life. One of my reasons to live. I was living during the first part that we met because of you. Thank you." Jay remembered the night he met Jev. It was a cold and dark night. That darkness was more of a calming one, the one he currently was in was not a very calming one. It was rampaging with dangers and many people who would kill to live. He remembered how Jev looked and how he always was a bit of a downer, but knew always what to say that made Jay feel so much better. The night that he kissed Jev was his favorite. He kissed him for no reason and it felt good. They continued the night though as nothing happened. Jay would miss him the most.

That's when Jay began to write his last name. Jay. His name was up there. He wasn't much, but it was his art. His mark. His last thing on the wall that would mean himself. Jay's fingers slowly began to cross out the dead. Mason, he had died in the 62nd. Davy, he died in District 4. Mom, he didn't know for sure, but they were gone. Dad, he hoped the man was dead. Zelphyr, she died in the bloodbath. Jay was in tears by now. Then he crossed out his name. THe last bit of blood on his fingers leaving his name crossed out. Jay sat up taking as many breaths as he can. He still had a while until he bleed to death. He didn't use much blood to write the meaningful names that would live on that wall. His body shivered in fear that he was alone.

That's when people got closer. He was afraid it was the girl and guy coming back to finish him off. He looked up to see only two recognizable figures. Jim Deer and Blaire Sycamore. Jay couldn't hold it in. The pain was already there. His voice was only but a whisper, but he spoke to his so called allies the best he could. "Why? Why did you do it? You both are the reason I'm dying. It's all your fault. I was supposed to be big. I was supposed to defeat the nasties and go home." Jay felt more tears come from his eyes. It was getting emotional. He just wanted to kill Jim in that moment. His ally had betrayed him. He had been used like an old dishrag. He was nothing to the District 12 boy. Jay was quiet. Jim was the reason he was injured. Jim was the reason he was bleeding out slowly. He felt the blood pouring out of every wound. It was painful. Jay spoke again towards Jim especially, "It's all your fault. You're a asshole. You aren't cool. You're just a jerk who is going to use us like pawns in a game. We're all your pawns aren't we. Blaire should just kill you. I should have killed you, when we got lost or in your sleep. It would have caused us less pain. I hate you Jim. I hate you. It's all your fault. You'll get your karma. I'll be avenged. You'll die painfully. I promise this."

Jay then focused his voice onto Blaire. He may be the youngest, but he had the best hits out of the alliance. He was just as much the reason as Jim was, but Jay wanted him to win. Jay was going to get him and Blaire to the finale and let him win. Blaire was supposed to win not Jay. Jay spoke now, "Blaire... Blaire, I was always going to let you win. I was going to get us three there and end Jim. I was going to then do nothing, but let you kill me. I always wanted you to win. You gotta do it. I was supposed to protect you. I was supposed to keep you safe. It's not just Jim's fault. You had hit me too, but it's mainly Jim's fault. I have more wounds from him. Just...Just....Just take this..." Jay hands Blaire his token. The surfer coin was from Miles. His one family member that always had his back. He would have to thank Miles in the afterlife. That coin got him through training. It gave him a sense of home. His mind was twisting with emotions.

He then turned towards Jim again. He wanted to kill Jim. He wanted to take him out with him. His anger was strengthening every time he looked at Jim. He spoke again, "I always hated you. Never trusted you. Y-You always were weird. You broke my leg and my trust. You're nothing but a mutt. Created by the capitol to destroy. You're a monster. You're evil. I...I...I hate you!" Jay tried to get up as fast as he can and grab onto Jim. His body was in control now. His mind was out of it. He'd use his hands to kill Jim. He'd killed him as fast as he could. Jay wanted revenge. He wanted Jim dead. He wanted Blaire to go it alone or join the District 8's alliance. The memories of the training center felt like nothing but insignificance. Jim was playing them like pawns and Jay wouldn't have it. Jay's anger would be his downfall. It always was. He was always in an angry mood. The anger Jay had didn't count in the variables of Jim having Jay's sword. The sword that he had used to try and kill the guy from 8. Jay was staring at Jim and a few words escaped, "I hate you."

template: che1sey

[Kire]

J I M D E E R

The problem with Jay is that he's a fighter. He never stops fighting, even if he has to pick and search for ways to piss someone else off enough to punch him in the face. He had called me annoying, stupid, a bother, all in search of the words that would send me over the edge. "Damn it Jim," he says, like it's something that would hurt me, like it's something that would make me angry. Only it doesn't, and now I'm not listening even as he rambles on about how he was sorry, and then how he was angry. Now and again I look up at the mention of my name but the darkness doesn't let it know that I even responded at all. I don't care about this boy anymore, he wasn't anything to me anymore. Jay was no longer a friend, no longer an ally, and certainly no longer a threat. I stood in silence as he said his piece, holding the sword he had wielded and waiting for him to finally quiet.

Only he didn't, and now he claims his lack of trust in me. Did he really think he could shake me? I had served in the mines, I had survived the bloodbath, I had just sentenced him to death. He couldn't scare me, he couldn't push me around, he couldn't even irritate me.

I react to his movement before I even know he's moving. The sound of rustling cloth had triggered me and immediately I bring my hand forward. His hands are trying to grab at my throat but he can't reach me. I know this because in between him and me is the length of the entire hilt of the bone sword. I had let the idiot spear himself on his own blade - though now it was mine - with only the slightest help from me. "I hate you." His words are faint and hoarse, the wind knocked out of him by the impact. I lift a foot and kick him off the end of my blade before wiping his own blood off onto his clothes. "Don't touch me." I'm turning and walking away, back to where Blaire stood, unsure about how I was feeling. There was no sadness in me, no mourning or despair, but there was something along those lines deep down. Mostly, though, there was excitement. I was excited by the killing, the blood, and I knew there was some sort of grin that had formed on my face.

I had just killed him, and I was happy.

[Jim uses first aid on himself for -3]
[Jim uses Needle and Thread on himself for -5]
[Jim uses Bandages on himself for -1]
[Jim accepts first aid from Blaire Sycamore for -3]

[arx!!]

One day I was running around the District with Ruth and we found a stream. We were still very young - we still lived with our father - and I was just coming from one of those really nice beatings. My eye was beginning to swell and there was a small cut on my brow, but that didn't matter much to me. I was still young and it was easy to recover my smile, to believe everything would be better. Anyway, we were just rushing around, imitating the birds that fluttered in the sky. You know how the really small kids are - smiling and carefree. It's hard to believe, but I used to be that kid.

That day was a good day. I remember it well if only because of the epic mud battle. By that stream I got the bold idea that mud would certainly be fun to throw. And if I was going to throw it, why not throw it at my sister? (I think that is common brother logic, but I can't be certain.) We spent the day throwing mud at each other, making and baking mud-pies, and just rolling around in the mud. I remember standing in all the wet, churned dirt and being stuck for nearly 5 whole minutes, struggling to get free. My feet just sort of squelched in the ankle deep mud and refused to leave. It took a lot of force to get them out.

That's kind of what it feels like to rip an axe out of someone's back.

When the axe had embedded itself in Fishboy's back I had completely let go of the axe, completely panicking when I recognized the pained roars of my ally. I had only yanked it out again when the fight had completely died and the other alliance had fled. It made the same sort of squelching noise the mud did when I yanked it free. It took all my strength not to puke - I could smell the blood and sweat, hear the screams echoing around the cavern. And now that all my fear was gone - now that the adrenaline had stopped pumping - I realized just how tired I was.

But I couldn't take a break. Not when Fishboy and Twelve were both bleeding to death. I tried to busy myself by attempting to fix them both, but it became more and more clear that only one of them was actually fixable. I'm sure if I could actually see the blood and the cuts I wouldn't be able to hold it all together. I guess I am sort of in shock. Their blood is on my hands and once I accidentally wiped my forehead without realizing that their was still blood all over my hands. But with it being so dark I can sort of pretend none of it exists.

I can just pretend the blood is the mud from my childhood memories and that the screams are not ones of pain but of pure elation and joy. The darkness is like the nasty blankets Ruth and I cuddled under as kids - shielding us from harm and making the bad guys disappear. Only the voices of actual human beings - the ones with names and feelings and emotions and blood everywhere - pull me back into reality.

I don't leave Fishboy's side. I just let myself slide down the wall and sit there, leaning my head back and closing my eyes, even though I know it makes no real difference in this darkness. He starts to babble and I scrunch my face up as if that will help block it all out. Listening to final goodbyes seems much to intimate to me, like I shouldn't even be around to listen. But I can't make myself move away, not knowing that this babbling kid next to me is bleeding to death. It would be an even bigger crime to leave him all alone.

"Blaire... Blaire, I was always going to let you win ... You gotta do it. It's not just Jim's fault. You had hit me too... Just...Just....Just take this..."

I hear my name but I'd really rather not. I know in death people get soft. They say sorry, they apologize, they just sort of ramble if they can about what they had meant to do with their life. (Let me win? Gotta do what, wait I wasn't listening? I know, I know I hit you, it was an accident, I hadn't really meant it but... no.) He hands me his token. I don't know what it is. Ripred I can even see it, only feel. It's small and cold and I think a bracelet of some sort, but I just resign to putting it in the pocket of my shorts. I don't have words. I can't say I'm sorry. I told myself I was done lying after I told Ruth it would be okay. I can't say thank you or say I will take it to District 4 either - again, that would be a lie.

My hands shake as I wipe them on my shirt, hoping to get the blood off of them. I don't think I do, my hands still feel sticky when I draw them threw my hair and all over my face. Nervous tick I guess. My stomach is flipping and I still want to puke. My eyes are burning and my face feels hot. I think I have literally worried myself sick ... I am such a fucking baby, what is my problem? I'm supposed to be a tough guy, the tough guy, that's how I've managed to keep both Ruth and myself alive! I clench my fist and pound the ground. But I can't even get the anger to surge through me as it usually does. I crumple forward with a heavy sigh - of both frustration and recognition.

I'm not cut out for this.

And the next bits all come so fast I don't have time to do anything but shoot straight to my feet as I here Fishboy sort of gasp, all choked considering he has blood in his mouth. "I hate you."

And then I hear something like... well, kind of what it sounds like when someone faints. Only somehow even heavier, more final. I can't control it, I just sort of stumble away and lean myself up against the wall further away. "Don't touch me." Those are the only words I hear out of Jim's mouth. I stand up straight when I hear his footsteps coming towards me, making myself big, trying hard to just let the dark blanket of naivety and innocence cover my eyes.

"Alright Twelve," And my voice doesn't shake, I'm proud of that. "This time - I lead."

---

{Blaire performs first-aid on Jim Deer}
{Blaire receives full water jug, antivenom, and 3 iodine tablets from sponsorship}
{Blaire drinks water from the full water jug and it's now empty lol}
{Blaire also receives Jay's token cause feels and all}

---

Blaire Sycamore - District 5