the lion and the lamb [lock/prop] (TW)

[bailee]

trigger warning: self-harm

lock o'malley.

They said keep your eyes open
And we'll teach you to dream while you are awake
Well, they haven't spoken
Since their branches were broken for the fire that they told me to

"Necessary evil, necessary evil, necessary evil,"

Rocking back and forth, my head held in shoulders. Six's bed, neatly made, lacking the soft snores and his small breaths that would echo through his bedroom in the dark of the night. A candle, lit in the window, a lighter held in my right hand, and a handheld bible held in my left. Tears slipping through the cracks of my eyelids, wetting my skin and death baring its fangs into my body, taking hostage like a parasite, feeding off of my body to fuel the pain it causes.

Julien Le Roux shooting a fire poker through Six's neck, a cannon firing, the boy from ten running far, far away. 

God was supposed to be all-knowing, yet he killed the wrong boy. Six was kind, he was gentle, he loved everyone, human to animal. Even in the arena, Six kept his strength in the face of tragedy, Yet it didn't stop the fates from his name being in the bowl, from him meeting face to face with the careers, from the tight grasp of death.

I untucked my head from my shoulders, and looked to the Bible in my hands. "You fucked up," I told God, as I flipped the Bible around in my hand. I used to think everything happened for a reason - that God had a plan for us all. Yet, his plan for Six was premature death. The sweetest, smartest young boy who could have accomplished so many things. Surely it must've been a mistake. A bad mistake. God would never intentionally rip Six from the O'Malley's. 

Then I thought to Six's confession. It didn't change anything about Six. Sin was sin - they were meant to be forgiven. He didn't understand Six's predicament, but he never thought any different of him.

I flicked the lighter and held it to the Bible. I wanted it to burn. Burn away all of God's mistakes. Burn everything that had lead to Six's death. Burn his slip in the Reaping bowl. Burn the arena. My hand shook as I brought it closer and closer to the book.

My left hand seized and I instantly dropped the bible. pushing the lighter to my skin instead. I yelped as it made contact with the flame, but I didn't pull away. The burning sensation sent shocks through my skin, turning it red and brown with each second I left it ignited on my skin. 


I pulled the lighter away as my breathing increased, the burn on my forearm sending searing pain throughout my body. I winced as I brought the burn closer to me, admiring the redness and bareness of my skin as my epidermis continued to burn.

It was the first time I didn't think about Six. It was the first time I had felt in control of my emotions.

[Deleted]

I regret watching him die. I could hardly watch any of the mutt fights. I almost always had to take breaks from the screen. But, this was his first time fighting tributes. He was going through a lot, and I had to be there for him. I forced myself to watch every moment. Even after Julian Le Roux stabbed his spear through his neck, I watched until I heard the boom of the cannon.

Six wasn't supposed to die. They could have ran. The girl from eight looked so close to death, like a poke might finish her off. Yet, she was somehow still alive and Six had died. That was it. And Julian Le Roux was somehow still fucking alive. I hoped he wasn't granted a quick death. I hope his family had to watch the whole damn thing as I did.

I didn't blame the boy from ten, Vlad or whatever, for running. He just saw his allies both get killed. Six told him to run, knowing what fate would await him. And, I respected that guy. I watched the Games whenever I could whenever Six wasn't in a fight. I saw it all. I saw him holding Six at night when he was scared or cold. I saw him protect him. I think I remembered hearing about how he had three or four younger brothers. It made sense to me, having twelve younger siblings myself.

But, I hadn't been able to go into Six's room since he died. I knew the moment I entered it, I'd lose it. I would instantly be reminded of everything I lost. Late at night I was trying to sneak out, I needed to go out to my stash of booze. I didn't want to drink in the house or during the day, my siblings needed me sober. But at night? Night time is when I coped.

However, when I walked by Six's room the door was cracked open slightly. In the darkness I couldn't see much, but I noticed the light of the candle. I figured one of my siblings might be praying or just visiting him, but I had to be sure. If one of them had left the candle or fell asleep with it lit, we could lose what little we had left of Six. I couldn't risk it.

I knocked softly on the door before opening it the rest of the way. What I saw made me audibly gasp. A bible on the ground. A lighter in Lock's hand. And a burn on his arm. The facial expression was one of brokenness, the type of brokenness when even feeling in pain is better than feeling so damn broken. I immediately just went over and hugged him as tight as I could, not saying anything. Nothing needed to be said. The tears slipping down my cheeks and the quiet sobs escaping me said enough.