{All the Little Lights / Cassie's dp}

{All the Little Lights / Cassie's dp} Dec 9, 2013 14:09:29 GMT -5

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Post by Deleted on Dec 9, 2013 14:09:29 GMT -5

Cassie Radke

My pages have been numbered since the first moment I entered this world. I came in crying, screaming and gasping for air, and that’s almost how I would leave it. But ever since that moment, I have been assigned a time and a place to die, and that is here, and that is now. I will die in an unlikely reality that I have no control over. Nothing I do, and nothing I hope for will change the fact that I am lying on the ground bleeding out. I can’t go home, I can’t ever embrace my brother again. We knew it was coming; we knew there was no way to pull this one off, but like all humans, we clung to the slightest hope that fate would play the cards in my favor. But when do the odds not fall against me?

Did Shadow feel the same ever-growing void of emptiness consuming him like a slow fire that I now felt? I hope not, because this, this is worse than any wound a weapon could inflict. I almost think it would have been nicer to die a quick death, like the boy I had killed the day before. You were gone in an instant, not knowing what happened but only knowing that you were gone. I wished for that now, for the quickness of a death that would no longer be granted to me. I am going to lie here and bleed until the blood on the ground is more than what is pumping through my straining veins. How long would that take? How long would I have to sit here and suffer?

I have been here for almost a week, and I still do not know what I want. I will die not knowing what I wanted to do with myself, not only in the panoramic view of adulthood, but here. I don’t know what I stand for, not anymore. Maybe it was better I would die ignorant of it, because if I knew, all I would know now is failure. I couldn’t take any more disappointments. I have failed Shadow, Cole, and myself. I have extinguished the last embers of hope within myself and my brother, and hopefully, if they were feeling compassionate, my parents. Had they even spared a single thought to my death? Or was I just another cannon with a resounding boom that was so monotonous that it didn’t matter whose it was?

I had been stupid to wonder what my cannon would sound like. I would never know, because I would already be gone. But it didn’t matter really. I wouldn’t be remembered, I wouldn’t be missed, and isn’t that what I wanted? Hadn’t I wanted to be forgotten so that no one could ever use my name in a list of the fallen? Maybe at the beginning I had wanted to fly away with the dust that rode the breeze, but now, things were different. Like every single kid in this arena, I wanted (even if it was just a little bit) to be known. To be the one that drew attention and said, “Look at me.” As much as I wanted to believe it, I am not any different from the murderers that surround me.

As the growing circle of crimson life began to spread out around me I reached around for that flower. That stupid little thing that Cole had given to me in an attempt for comfort. Now, what did this mean? Nothing, it meant nothing at all, and it would not help me now. Not even Cole, who promised that he would carry me through this, could save me. It was too late, I was too far gone. Had I ever really believed that anyone but myself could carry me through this hell? I guess I had, because if I had fought like all the weight was on my shoulders and mine only, I might still be alive—or not dying for that matter. If I had taken it upon myself like I should have, maybe I would have fought harder or believed just a little more. All of these maybes and if’s will not change the facts.

I do not want this to be my final resting place. I want to return home, but not in a wooden box. I do not want to watch the world fade away in blurry vision. But no matter how much I do not want these things, they will be given to me, and all I can then do is deny them as they smother the last embers of life away.

I know I am close to death, and as much as I am not ready, I must go. I have to leave and say goodbye to a world that does not want me, and honestly I do not want it. But if I don’t want to be here, and I don’t want to die, where is there to go? Is there some kind of solitary void that floats around holding the people who aren’t ready to make a decision yet? But I don’t really think that place would be much better than death, because then you would be alone, but you would also be conscious. You could scream and cry out and hope for any kind company, but none would come. I think death might be the better option.

I wish I could say some memorable last words that would leave the audience stunned, but without a tongue, that is difficult. I have spent the early hours of morning here thinking up my last words, and night after night I would make the slightest changes, tweaking the phrase that would never be heard. I didn’t know then who I would be saying it to, but now, I did, and I still would not have the chance that was now my last and final wish.

If I still had the privilege of speech I would pull the boy from eleven to me and whisper in his ear. I would tell him this: “Hell will come back for you, and I only hope you can flee from the oncoming shadows.” He would pay for what he’s done, all of us will, really. I will pay the debt for taking Sticky’s life, we will all be held accountable for the blood we have spilled.

Every breath was getting harder to intake, and I knew I only had moments before the world went dark. I looked down at the words Shadow had written on my arm just a day or so ago, “I’m not scared anymore. Bye for now, Cassie.” I wanted him here now, to hold me so I as the selfish person I am didn’t have to go through my own death alone. I wanted the comfort I had given to him, but I couldn’t expect that from any of the kids that surrounded me. I didn’t want their comfort. But now, as each breath becomes more laborious than the last, I begin to count. I am counting the chapters of my story, fourteen of them, that have made me into who I am now. I am the weak, dying, speechless girl from District Five who no longer has a chance, and really, never did.

This is the last page of my book; the final moments of my story. It hasn’t been long, and it hasn’t been great, but it is mine, and no one, neither the gamemakers, nor the boy from eleven could take that away from me.

[The End]

Thanks

First and foremost, thank you to Semper who answered my million questions and kept me calm during my many freak-outs. You have been absolutely amazing<3

Thank you to Lulu for being an amazing gm and running a fantastic games.

Thank you to all of my allies, LPG being (Semper, Rook, Onyx, and South) I really look up to each and every one of you, and you made my games experience so amazing. Also to MR (Zoe and Clover) I wasn't with you guys long, but I really do appreciate you guys, and your writing is phenomenal.

Thank you to Zoe for this beautiful table. (and Axel for making an updated v5 one yay)

Thanks to everyone that I had the opportunity to write with these games, you all are beautiful writers and even more amazing people.

And lastly thank you Cassie for being a wonderful first tribute and teaching me what it's like to grow with someone in their victories and losses.

Lyrics are Let Her Go by Passenger