wilted rose { clio one!shot } for Hannah O'Leary
Oct 23, 2015 8:35:33 GMT -5
Post by k!ah on Oct 23, 2015 8:35:33 GMT -5
clio
friend of fallen tribute hannah o'leary
friend of fallen tribute hannah o'leary
The tears of a dead girl stained her shirt.
Clios fingers brush over the harsh material, her fingers tracing the spot where the girl had cried, where her tears had fallen as she begged Clio to understand, as she begged Clio to tell her that she was wrong. But Clio had not. She had not told the dying girl that she was wrong. She had not comforted her friend when she had needed it the most.
The tears of a dead girl burned into her skin.
The girls tears had fallen onto her shoulder as she cried, as Clio had held her tight, her own tears mingling with the dead girls. At the time she had not been dead but even as she breathed in the same air as Clio her grave had already been dug. Six feet deep, the perfect rectangle to lay a mutilated body to rest.
The touch of a dead girl, a ghost in her arms.
She could still feel the way her body had shook in hers, the way her body had collided into hers... she could remember how small the girl had felt as she held her, how small, how vulnerable to this world. At the time Clio had held her with all her strength, hoping to lend it to her when she needed the most, but just like everything else in her life, she failed-
She failed today because she mourned the life of her best friend.
(Her body fell to the earth, blood spilling onto the earth, painting it the colour of death. The girl had fought bravely, she had fought with all her strength but all her strength hadn't been enough in the end. In the end she was too weak, her body crumpling the fight would stop, watching as the life of a young girl is taken from this world.
Not a word would be uttered as they watched, as they watch.
But then they begin to flee.
They run.
Run from what they have done.
Run from the sin they had committed.
And suddenly she is running too.)
Fingers press into the dirt, tears streaking her face as a wild scream rips her apart. like an animal in agony her fingers tear at the dirt. They clasp around one of the small plants, too tightly. Her grasp crumples the petals, but that it not what destroys it, what destroys it is the way it is torn from its home. Roots are ripped from the earth, its life line destroyed. Tossing it to the side her fingers keep going, clasping around the stem of a new plant, one she had buried the day she had meet the girl. She only pauses for a moment, her vision growing blurry as new tears resurface, before ripping the plant from the earth, before tossing it to the side sobbing uncontrollably.
But she wasn't done.
She moves through her garden, ripping one plant to the next from the soil, cutting their life short- just like the capitol had done to her friend. She told herself over and over again that she didnt want these plants. That these plants, thats her whole garden represented knew life, that its whole point was to show that life was important that it was beautiful so so beautiful...
But what was beautiful about the way Hannah O'leary was murder.
What was angelic and gentle about the way her friends body was mutilated, was slashed at and torn to shreds? What- what was the point then? She had created this garden to be a safe haven-Hannah herself had spent hours upon hours with Clio in this garden, watching the small creatures like butterflies and lady bugs and birds live their life. Their innocent lives oblivious to the way that outside this garden children were being slaughtered like animals.
The song of a near by bird dances through the air, fighting its way through her grief. She pauses, her breathing heavy her fingers clasped around one of the few plants that hadn't been purged in her rampage of uncontrollable sorrow. Heart pounding in her chest she listens to the way it sings. She listens to the motes and she remembers the way the two girls used to harmonize with the birds and every so slowly she beings to crumble.
With shaking hands she releases the plant, her knees bucking underneath her she falls onto the upturned earth. Earth now littered with the broken remnants of her garden. She buries her face into her hands, her dirt caked fingers pulled at the roots of her hair as she cried. The tears fell entwined with silent sobs, the birds sining a song of sorrow, watching as the girl crumbled in her broken garden.
She cries for a long time.
She cried until she can cry no longer.
She cries until the sun is long gone, the moon painting the earth in its dull light. she cried until the birds songs have stopped. She cries until she is on her own. The world is so silent around her, watching as the girl slowly pulled her hands away from her face, cheeks streaked with muddy tears.
Looking around her eyes grow wide as she takes in the destruction of her garden. Her heart begins to pound wildly in her chest, fresh tears beginning to well. "Oh Hannah... Hannah what have I done... what have I done.
Please, forgive me."