Too close to the sun// Marik&Icarus

Antigone was dead.

My sister full of life and promise died long before the girl in the arena had. I watched our mother break down as what was left of her was blown into a million pieces from the bomb of someone she thought would love her. Her desperate plea to be wanted left me with a guilt I could not shake. How could she not understand that I loved her, mom had loved her even in her worst of moments. She was surrounded with love she had never learned to accept. Forcing us to watch her destroy herself over someone she never stood a chance with.

My sister was to young, taken to soon and it was all my fault. I left her thinking she could do better, that she would come home unlike our uncles before us. Her blood was on my hands for it was supposed to be me, it was always supposed to be. Her selfishness forcing me to live on without her, carry a legacy I could never fulfil for I was not Antigone. I never shared her hopes or dreams, talent may have been spread equally between us, but she was the one who would make something of herself.

Now I cursed her name. Cursed her for daring to try, full of anger because she could not fulfil a promise. She swore she would come back to me, an oath she wouldn’t break. Yet all her words went flying out the window when she got a taste of blood, awakening a hunger we all knew resided in her. I hated her for letting it consume her, displaying the worst of her qualities for the world to see.

It broke me.

I was never going to see her again, and the world would never know what could’ve become of her. A part of me wanted to let her die, let her disappear from my mind but as with everything I could not forget. There was no ridding my mind of my little sister for all the good and bad she carried inside of her. In memory she would live on forever, but what would happen when my time came? Who would make sure she continued to haunt the world with her obnoxious attitude? Marik, the victor from twelve? I couldn’t imagine it. He had been there to witness her pinned down by a man twice her size. He must have seen something, some kind of fight in her. I needed to believe that someone besides my self would always remember.

An old photo laid heavy in my pocket. The two of us side by side wearing stupid grins that could only be explained with the innocence of a child. A time before our father left, a moment when our mother was sane. Blissfully unaware of the tragedies yet to come. That is how I chose to remember her, that moment of happiness was my only hope that there was a point in her life where she felt love. A time where she felt as if she mattered. I yearned to take that little girl’s pain away, erase history and write it anew. A life where we were happy, and I would not be talking to her grave on Sundays when the church bells rang.

Mom of course did not come to the victor ceremony, Uncle Mick tried to convince her it was what Antigone would have wanted but we all knew it would be for me, not her. I tried to wipe my tears as Marik held his speech, trying to stand tall and brave. I was neither of those things, in fact it was her infuriating voice in my head making me want to scream of all the injustice of the world that kept me silence.

This is for you Antigone. This is for your legacy for I will not let it burn in flames the way you never let me lay down and rot.

I made my way up the stairs of the justice building, rehearsing my speech over and over again in my head. Not that I would be able to forget it, but the words felt wrong. There was nothing right about what I was about to do. Marik may have had no involvement in her death, but he was also not responsible for life beyond the grave. I could only hope he would hear my plea and take mercy, allowing me this one peace of mind.

”Marik?” I stood before him when my time had come to meet the newest victor. Tears already forming in my eyes. ”My name is Icarus Jay. Antigone was my sister.” Not was, is. Death could never take that away from me. ”Congratulations on your win, I can’t imagine it was easy.” I was certain not a single day in the arena was easy for Antigone, but she was not heard to tell me so. ”I don’t know if you knew, but my sister volunteered for me. I am not sure what happened in the arena or how much you know but for us watching she seemed to have lost her mind.” Her mother’s daughter. A victim of insanity.

”I know it is not your concern, but my sister was so much more than what she was in the arena. She was kind, loving and cared for everyone else around. She was supposed to be our family’s break, make something of herself but she died for me instead. I…I can’t let her actions in the arena become her legacy.” I pulled the picture out of my pocket and held it out for him to take. Hoping he would see what I always have seen in her. ”Would you please accept this? A reminder that she was the entire world to some of us. I am not bitter that you won, but I would appreciate it if you would help me keep her spirit alive.”

Would he allow me this kindness? I spoke a silent prayer that he would.