such a { { beautiful } } nightmare, indeed // (one-shoot)

I THINK I AM DYING. Or, think I should be. It's only fair. Pyrian died, and Gypsy, and now Willis has been sentenced to death as well. We have never had much, only each other to depend on, and with each of my siblings disappearing and falling apart, well, there are too many holes in my armor for me to repair it this time. I guess it is the only thing that makes sense, me suffering the same fate as all the rest of us, but that doesn't mean I can't be scared.

The words "Willis Keeni!" haunt my dreams, twist them into darkness and declare them nightmares. It has gotten so bad this time that I am afraid to sleep at all. I mostly lie awake at night in my bed, thinking of what Willis might be doing, hoping to see him alive and well the next day, holding Jasco, the once white cat whose fur has aged a soft shade of yellow, and only letting him see me cry. I am scared to tell myself that this time it'll all be different, that Willis will come home and he'll hug me and things will actually be okay, because last time left me torn to shreds like a sheet in a twister, so easily thrown about and ripped and broken and I can't let myself feel that way again, yet admitting my brother was going to die hardly seems like a better option.

Willis Keeni. A boy who does not deserve to die, and a boy that is going to do the unthinkable, break the bonds of humanity, and actually put an end to the innocent lives of other innocents just to come back to the walls of the crumbling home we grew up in. He'll kill, probably more than once, and I won't blame him. He'll hurt people like me, only hoping for their brother or sister, or son or daughter, or just their friend to come home to them with a pulse, and I guess it makes me selfish because I do not care. I want my brother back, and I want him back now!

His blonde curls and the sarcastic wisdom the boy had about him are strangely endearing, and I never realized it until those words rattled my bones. "Willis Keeni!" Just like that, I no longer saw him as my annoying brother, but an innocent soul I grew up with being dragged straight to hell.

I sit in front of the television, my eyes glued to the screen as he and his allies attack two gigantic mutts, the names of which the announcer says are "Appas". They are huge and angry, and Willis and the tiny girl from Five are attempting to attack one on their own, while they other two attack the other with less luck. "Good." I think. "Maybe they'll die and my brother will come home sooner." I am ashamed of myself, but the thoughts only seem fair to me.

Felix sits on one side of me, Malforce and Arachne on the other, and all of us seem to be thinking different things. (I can almost gurantee that Malforce and Arachne aren't thinking positive things.) Finally, I have had enough of the fight playing out on screen as the announcers begin to brag about the strength of the Appas, and how slim the chances of all four of them making it out alive are, and I have had enough of this house where he once laid his head, and enough of the yard where we played together as children, and the pathway we walked every day on the way home from school, and everywhere until I am in the woods where I am not supposed to be. My family have warned me countless times about running into an angry bear, or worse, a peacekeeper, but I need to escape sometimes, to talk to my friends because they are the only ones that always, always understand.

I talk into the open space, where the wind dances through the treetops and nothing else makes a sound. "What if he doesn't come back? What if he does? What if things are never the same? What am I going to do?!" A voice sounds in my ears, and if anyone else were around they would claim they couldn't hear it, but I know they would be lying. I know I can't be the only one to hear them. "He'll come back, love, but things will not be the same. He won't just be your brother anymore, but instead he'll be a victor." Tears cloud my vision and I fall to my knees, slamming closed fists into the ground in a fit of rage. "No! No, this can't be right! This is all wrong!"

I see the bird perched on the branch of a tree. "It is true, Zebera, and you should be grateful if he comes back alive at all." It is true, of course, but I realize that I don't just want him home, I want him. I want Willis the way he was before the games, and part of me already knows that the games will change him too much for that to ever happen. Willis Keeni is not yet dead, but my brother is.