the place behind the sky ~ {Ferdes}

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I doubt that anyone else sees that, though. Most of my family now only sees a hollow, lifeless corpse. Arden and I see our brother. The rest of the tributes only hear another cannon. The Gamemakers see that their mutts are living up to expectations.

It’s easy sneaking into my parents’ room. They never lock the door.[/color] Everyone has now slowly migrated to the dinner table in silence, but no one will notice I’m gone. Arden probably won’t be there either.

Top drawer on the left.[/color] Dad always did have a knack for keeping weapons – or “protection,” as he calls it[/color] – close by. The drawer slides out soundlessly, and I find what I’m after.

My hand reaches in and gingerly pulls out the small, silver pistol, already heavy with bullets. Its body glistens in the evening light that shines through the dusty window.

Do I really want to do this? Yes. I do.[/color]

Not even the floorboards give away my escape. I snatch a small red apple from the kitchen and close the house door silently behind me.

In all the books I’ve read, a horse was always considered sacred.[/color] No one purposely killed a horse in battle; “bad” horses always became wonderful; old horses considered wise; young horses deemed beautiful spirits. There was never a written line that spoke bad about equines. That’s how Haff saw them: beautiful, wild, helpful spirits.[/color]

I come to a stop after crawling through the fence. Anima is off grazing by the other horses, but she’s reserved. She takes a bite of the green grass, chews it, but doesn’t take another. Her whole demeanor is sullen. She knows something is wrong.[/color] I let out a low whistle – the way Haff used to do[/color] – and her ears perked up. Anima turns her head toward me, poll held high, tail swishing at the flies that constantly surround her. I can almost see Haff perched proudly on her back.[/color] But he’s not there. No, he’s slumped over against a tree somewhere, covered in blood.

Tears well up in my eyes at the memory of my brother’s death. His body, only a week ago, was so full of life[/color] and joy,[/color] now is just an inanimate object, never to see again, or feel, or laugh, or love.[/color]

Salty drops begin to run down my face as the realization hits me: my brother is never coming home.[/color]

Something nudges my hand. Anima’s velvety lip brushes my hand, trying to get to the apple. I choke out a sob. ”He’s dead, Anima.” She can’t understand words, but I know she can feel my pain. I hold the apple out to her and she bites off half of it, munching noisily.

I remember one particular book I read in which fellow warriors killed a war horse after a battle and buried it with its dead rider so that they would be together in the afterlife. But is there really life after death?[/color] I believe there is. So many stories have mentioned a paradise that I don’t think it’s a coincidence. There must be a place, and if there is then I know Haff is there.

You’re safe now, Haff.[/color] But he isn’t home.

Anima noses for the apple again, but as I hold it this time, I wrap my fingers around it so that she can’t get to it too easily. I pull back the pin of the gun to load it, and with a shaky hand I raise it and press the end of the barrel onto her forehead. Should I do this? Can I even bring myself to?[/color] I have to, for Haff’s sake.

Despite my sobbing and trembling, Anima’s small ears are still turned toward me. Either she’s oblivious or she wants to go and be with Haff. I bet it’s the latter.[/color] Does she feel the emptiness that I do? Does she know her favorite human – the one that basically brought her back to life and raised her – isn’t returning? Haff didn’t even get to say goodbye to her. But he didn’t have to because they’ll be together again.[/color]

The muscles in my hand tighten and I feel myself putting pressure on the trigger. Anima is still oblivious, working at getting the apple from my hand. Tears blur my vision, making the mare just a white splash of color against a dark green background. My voice is completely overtaken by sobs and hiccups. ”G-go b-b-be with hi-him, Anima. Go f-find him.”

Warm, sticky blood splatters against my pale skin and shirt. The sound of the gunshot is deafening. Anima crumbles lifelessly to the grass, her large, brown eyes now glassy and just as lifeless as Haff’s.[/color] My arm with the pistol is still extended as I stare down at her corpse, suddenly horrified. She’s with him now, though. It’s all okay now.[/color] But that didn’t do anything to dull the pain in my chest. It wears me down and is like lead in my veins, weighing me down tremendously. I want to disappear; I want to run; I want to escape.[/color]

My knees buckle and I fall down beside Anima’s body, tossing the gun aside and hurling myself onto her, pressing my face into her shoulder. Her body is still warm and for a short moment I allow myself to think of the possibility that she will just spring right back up, but then I remember the blood on my skin and shirt. She’s gone too.[/color] My entire body is shaking and I am lightheaded from crying so much, but I can’t stop. I just can’t. What else am I supposed to do when I witness my brother’s death and then slaughter his best friend?

I should be happy.[/color]

Neither of them are in pain. Neither of them will have to ever be sad again. Neither of them will be discriminated against again. So why am I so grief-stricken? Is it because no one else is mourning Haff, other than perhaps Arden? Maybe it’s because Haff’s allies had abandoned him, taking with them the good chance of his survival. Haff could have come back – he really could have – but those other tributes left[/color] him. They didn’t care. I bet none of them actually knew how bright he was. It’s their fault. All their fault. He would be alive if it weren’t for them leaving him.[/color]

”Why did they do that to you?!” My voice comes out as a desperate yell, wracked with my convulsive weeping. ”It’s all their fault… all their damn fault!” I press my face into Anima’s soft fur, curling up behind her bent knees and leaning against her. I feel the warmth starting to leave her body, but I deny that fact. I cling to the hope that she’ll come back with him, riding over the hill the way he always rode her. Anima’s ears forward, her hooves being picked up and placed gracefully, and Haff sitting happily upon her back, a large, gleeful grin on his face.[/color] Haff’s “allies” took – no, stole[/color] – that from him.

But neither of them is coming back. I shot the war horse to be with the warrior in paradise.[/color] The warmth is completely gone from Anima’s beautiful body – a good indicator that I have been by her side for far too long. She’s gone to find Haff, wherever he may be. Suddenly I don’t feel so mournful anymore.[/color] He’s with the horse he loves, riding across the plains in the afterlife, tall grass stalks swaying like ripples of water in a pond. Curled up against the cold, furry body, I come to realize that Haff has it better than any of us now. He’s free,[/color] living the life he deserved here on this wretched earth. Why should I worry about someone who has moved onto a better place? Unbelievably, a small smile graces my lips as I imagine my older brother laughing and playing around with Anima. Leave plenty of hoof prints for me to trail, brother. I want to follow you.[/color] Would he mind that? I hope not.

My head shifts and I look up at the starry sky, the white dots sparkling endlessly above. I picture all the stars being hoof prints that Anima is leaving behind as she and Haff gallop across that picturesque field. What if that paradise in all the books is just on the other side of the sky?[/color] I don’t know what’s up in the sky, but I believe it could be true. The sky is only filled with clouds, a large blue expanse, and then darkness and stars – but what are stars, exactly? Footprints of deceased ancestors as they walk across the land of milk and honey? I don’t know what else they could be.

No, I do, actually. Hoof prints. Paw prints. Fallen feathers from birds.[/color] Every good soul goes there: the place behind the sky. And somewhere up there is my brother, Haff Ferde, along with his war horse, who I killed to bury with her warrior so that they may be together and protect each other.

Now you’re home, Haff.[/color]


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