://Letters to the Dead//: {Siberite's Journal}

[kap]

(See first letter here)
(See letters two through four here)

Dear Andesite,

The reaping was today, and it wasn't me who was chosen. Although, it reminded me of the day that it was you. I remember the chatter that was going on around town, and at home. Obsidian was a name that not many of us knew was shared with a boy named Andesite. I wish I'd known you better when you were chosen, too. I would have come to visit you before you departed, but from what I've heard, the only one who did so was Flynn. It makes me feel quite bad that he was the last person you saw at home that you knew before you left.

Sure, you had Astrid for a little while. She was a reminder of home, I suppose. You didn't know her that well, though, from what I've heard. I don't know how much the two of you conversed on the train, or in the training center, if at all. I do know, however, that she must not have been comforting enough to you, as you didn't end up taking her as an ally. Instead, you took the boy from Twelve and the girl from Eleven. I'm still not quite sure why you found solace in them, but I'm glad that you at least found someone.

If it had been me in the Games, it's likely I would have found some fellow careers to ally with, or perhaps tributes from other Districts that came off as strong to me. Maybe I would have even gone in on my own. Going solo doesn't sound like the worst idea. Some tributes have gone quite far, doing that. I just wish that you'd had someone to better protect you in the Games. Perhaps if your allies had been stronger, you wouldn't have lost your life so early on.

Don't get my wrong, though, Andesite. I'm proud of how well you did in the bloodbath. Even if all you did was a small amount of damage and escaped with a sword, you survived it, and that mattered to me. Many people haven't survived the bloodbath. Even careers can be taken down in a single blow. There was a boy in the Seventy-Sixth Hunger Games who was from our District, and he was the first to go down. His skull was bashed in in the bloodbath. I'm glad that's not how you went out. Although, I wish you didn't have to suffer so much.

Nowadays, I train quite hard, in your honor. I wish to bring glory to the name of Obsidian, should I ever take my position in the Games. Even if I don't come out alive, I want to make us known. I want to make it so that people respect our name. Your death is not in vain. I respect everything you've done, dear cousin, and I won't let people ruin your memory.

Your Dear Cousin,
[googlefont="Sacramento:400"]Siberite Obsidian
Siberite Obsidian

[kap]

Dear Andesite,

It's been a while since I've written, and for that, I apologize. Then again, since you can't truly read these, which I unfortunately have to understand, I suppose you wouldn't particularly care that it's been a while. I wish you were still here, so you knew what I was writing to you. Perhaps, if there's an afterlife out there, you are actually reading what I'm writing in this here letter. I hope that's the case, as I would truly love to know that we're keeping in touch, in a way. I guess there's no way for me to know for sure until I die myself, though. I really hope that's not anytime soon, as I'd like to opportunity to live my life for as long as I can. If I ever end up in the Hunger Games, however, I hope that I can bring glory to the Obsidian name and make people see how strong we really are.

I'm not saying you weren't strong, of course. You really were. I think the reason you died so early on in the Games, though, was a combination of your choice in allies, your young age, and how exposed you were to other tributes. I don't blame you, of course. I just wish you could have survived the Games, or even just a little bit longer than you did.

The next reaping is coming soon. I didn't purchase any tessera this year, as I often do to increase my chances of going into the Games. I suppose that's because I want more time to train. If I go into the Games, I'm not sure if I'd be ready. Regardless, if I do go in, I'd fight. I'm just not sure how well I'd do at it. You were only fourteen, and I'm only sixteen. That's not too much of a difference in age, so I'm not sure how much better I would do than you, if at all.

I hate to admit that I'm nervous. Although, I would volunteer if someone I felt shouldn't go into the Games was chosen. Sometimes, it ends up that way, where someone who clearly won't survive or doesn't deserve to have to fight is selected for the death match. Unfortunately, not everyone can be protected. I just wish that I could have protected you when it was your turn to fight.

Someday, I will meet you once more, if there truly is an afterlife, and I'll tell you the stories of my life that I have written in these letters for you. I just wish you could hear them now. Well, I suppose that maybe you can. If you can read these letters, please, just give me a sign. I want to know. I want to know if my writing has purpose.

Your Dear Cousin,
[googlefont="Sacramento:400"]Siberite Obsidian
Siberite Obsidian