goodbye lasts forever {faux oneshot}

[Knuckles]

A gentle breeze floats through the open door at the Rhodes house. It offers him peace, it gives him a chance to really sit back and trying to figure out a way to find what he wants. Even as Faux paces around the kitchen, nothing seems to come to mind until it hits him like a ton of bricks. Sometimes life has a way of telling him what he wants, and even though he's afraid, deep inside his heart is telling him what to do. He goes to a room grabs a few things before returning to the kitchen and resting at the dirty table.

A pen rests awkwardly in the palm of his hand as Faux stares at the blank sheet of paper on the table in front of him. So much sits heavily on his mind, yet finding the words to use evades him. It's a curse of surviving the games after being brought to the brink of death. The nightmares come and go, and sometimes he even sees the young man standing before him with the weapon flying high in the sky with ease. Five years. Five years have come and gone since he stood on the stage and ventured into the arena.

And while so much has changed, some things remain the same.

Sometimes he feels like he's just a figment of other's imagination, that they don't think he's really there - he doesn't blame them, though. They all saw what happened. Singing and dancing are so far away from being possible anymore, but his mind floats to those times freely. When he was free like a bird flying through the sky without a care in the world.

Even as tears swim in the corner of his eyes, words never come. They're trapped, locked away forever, and even in this moment things will never change. His own family doesn't acknowledge him. Harbinger has pushed him away, and Faux wants nothing more than to make the man realize that it's him.

But all his efforts are futile. Nothing is working, and it's hard to linger in a place where nobody cares.

The small things in life he used to enjoy all seem so far away. Singing and dancing are two of his favorite things, and the Capitol stole them away in the blink of an eye, and they don't even care. He's been turned into a mockery. Living proof of what happens when someone crosses the line, but Faux is innocent. Every single day he did what he was told, he didn't cause a ruckus, he never toed the line, yet none of that mattered, and it never will. So much was stolen from him.

And now he's stuck wondering what's the point? Why stay here and live in misery when an entire world sits outside the walls waiting for him to explore. Why live with people who don't care for him anymore?

Sometimes he thinks it's best if he would have died in those games.

For a moment, he presses his hand against the paper trying to form the words his mind yearns to say;

i cannot

i am here...

fa

no

But instead he's met with a lot of lines drawn through the words as they fail to form.

All he wants is to go away, and to let anyone who may care know that he's leaving this place forever to find a reason to survive. To find the inner flame that's been burned out for the last few years. Every day it's a price he pays, and sometimes he feels the light growing dimmer as he tries his best to keep it going. Even the gentle breeze whispering through the branches of the trees have stopped speaking to him.

But he tries again.

Family,

I am sorry. Can't be here now. Am alone. Afraid.

They took away life and gave it back, but nobody believes I am here, and in doing they hurt you all.

Going away. Not sure where, but hope to find somewhere I belong.

I feel I have hurt more of you than I know.

Might return one day. Don't know.

Just want you all to feel happy.

I am sorry.

Faux

Tears stream down the side of his face leaving drops of water on the frail sheet of paper, yet he wipes them away and fold the paper into a perfect square. His family is better off without him. They're better off if he leaves and stops serving as that constant reminder. His life was stolen away, and even though the blood still flows through his veins, nobody believes him.

A heavy heart hammers within the walls of his chest as he places the piece of paper in the center of the table. He returns to his room gathers a few of his most precious belongings, but he leaves his token behind sitting next to the paper. Saying goodbye isn't easy, but if it gives his family the comfort they need, then Faux knows he's doing the right thing.

table by tom <3