Turn me over (I'm done) [End of Jordan]

LIGHT

Something is coming now...

They call out to me, everywhere all around and they won't stop.

'Jordan Scoff-Reye!'

'What's your problem ten?'

'Do you remember when Mantel throw up on my shoes?'

'You can't protect anyone from the games.

'Leave me the fuck alone'

Fuck you.'

And they go on and on and on and they don't stop. They won't stop and they refuse to stop. And I hate that. "Please stop, please stop, please stop, please stop." I never thought I'd find myself pleading to anything or anyone, let alone something I can't even see. But it doesn't listen, it intends to keep mocking me till the end of my days it seems because they continue on.

'Fucking little brat.'

As they continue on I find myself surrounded by white that's not snow. I find myself surrounded by a pure white, a white that's not stained with crimson from other kids, a white that can't possible have mutts, or weapons, or poison laced within it, I white that's truly pure, a white that I should be able to trust. And yet the white makes me feel uneasy, in the arena all I ever saw was white, white and more white. And then I slowly saw that white become laced with all kinds of red, red that I spilled in my quest for blood. My destructive quest for vengeance. I never want to see white again, it's a mockery, a killer colour, a reminder.

The white light envelopes me but I'm not smiling. I'm disappointed. I should be relieved, to escape from that nightmare, to finally be gone and be somewhere quiet, peaceful and so pure. But I lost. I lost to him... I know right? I lost to them. I told myself I'd avenge Levi and Riot. I told myself that over and over, I became obsessed with it, took it to an extreme. It knawed at me, inside at out. I think to an extent it was almost as bad at Mantel's death. The self-blame, the anger, the sadness, it was all the same and at some points even worse. And then the need to kill someone, anyone that may or may not have been involved.

And I failed.

I wanted to be Jordan the avenger, Jordan Scoff; the one who kept his brother's memory alive, Jordan Scoff; the one who brought the killers of his friends a brutal end, Jordan Scoff; the boy who lived. But now I'm just fried food and I know it. I know what that axe was, I felt it catch onto my hair and then quickly spread onto my clothes. It's eating my alive quicker than my thirst for vengeance.

I try to push those thoughts out of my mind.

Maybe I'll get to see Mantel again...

Or...

Or...

I'll just be a memory.

And what to memories do?

They fade.

Disappear, into nothing.

What a fucking scary thought, the thought of being nothing when I was once something. The very thing I was could just be eaten up by that fire. The very being I was could just be snuffed out. Snuffed out by Marchello fucking Donner.

No more of this 'I can see Mantel again.' None of that mushy bullshit. This white means nothing, this purity is just an illusion.

I'm a memory now and I'm going to do what memories do.

D...D...D...Disappear...

LIGHT

Does it almost feel like nothing's changed at all?

I'm breathless, weightless, careless.

I'm not cautious about the white light like I was before, I'm not shying away from it like the sword I encountered in the training centre. I don't care what it is; a weapon, pain, an entrance to hell... I've been through it all. I don't care what this is cos it can't be any worse than that, I've been through hell, the worst of the worst and no one can take that away from me. I look down at my self and breathe a sigh of relief; there's no flames. My skin is perfectly fine, I don't even have the gashes. I raise a hand to the side of my head, my ear's still there perfectly fine, nothing gone. I raise a hand to my throat and it's perfectly fine, perfect in tact, nothing broken. I clear my throat; There's no blood. And I'm standing perfectly fine on two legs, I'm whole, I'm actually whole and fine.

I sigh and chuckle out of relief.

There's no thunder, no voices... Just... nothing.

Is this what my forever is? Just nothing? Here I stand, surrounded by white and quiet.

And once again I'm disappointed.

"I lost to him, him of all people."

And to think, I had the audacity to beg to him.

"No pride, no decency, no self respect..."

But why do I care?

What's the worst they can do? Piss on my ashes?

Hah!

But I'm gone, no more District Ten, no more arena, no more snow, no more axes, no more spear, no more Jeff, Riot, Levi, Quartz... None of that.

It's just... me.

So is this what I'll be? Nothing but a memory after all.

I... I don't know how I feel about that. The thought of becoming nothing, the thought of fading into forever, the thought of dying and never coming back, the only thought of me will be in some giant book of Hunger Games. Jordan Scoff-Reye, the one who could've been... What could I have been? The avenger? The killer? The brother? The boy who lived? So many things, so many things I could've been had I just had the quickness, the reactions, the common sense to move out of that way of that flaming axe. "Fuck." Is all I mutter to myself, the opportunities I let go; I'll never live to see eighteen, twenty, forty, eighty, I'll never fuck a girl, or have kids or anything of that sort.

I'll just fade into forever.

And I still don't know how I feel about that...

I mean surely it has to be better than what I went through in the arena right?

Right.

And yet I feel so disappointed, I feel like a cow that's only been half milked, or how my boss used to feel when I'd only give him half a bucket. I'm not angry, just disappointed. There'll never be change, but I would've been so different, life would've been so different. No more depressed Dad (Dad! Oh please let him be okay), no more fighting with other street rat kids, no more starving, no more milking cows for half the day. Would that have been good? A good different?

I could've had it all, if I'd just given them the blood they wanted. That's all I ever owed them... Blood. It seemed so simple, some blood for all the riches I could ever hope for.

I let out another sigh as I examine myself properly. I'm clean as a newborn babe, flesh is unscathed, not a single pimple or scar, I'm in a pure white robe, purer than the snow; nothing even close to stain on it. It's super baggy however, lighter than air in fact. After a few glimpses around I inhale deeply. Scentless, no smell. I don't know what I expected; anything's better than the smell of my burning flesh I s'ppose. It's neither hot or cold, it feels like nothing actually. Is this my forever? Just nothing?

I let out another deflating sigh.

I guess I'm just... nothing A memory.

I slowly turn...

And I'm met with two huge golden doors. No decorations, nothing fancy, just two huge doors. Is... is this real? I move to touch it but the doors swing open instead with two loud creaks, leading into a huge white corridor that stretches on seemingly forever.

"W-will I see Mantel again?!" I call out to nothing, half expecting a response, but instead of a reply I'm met with the echo of my own question, it lingers and lingers in the air... forever unanswered. I inhale... then exhale, fully knowing fully what I'm facing. And for some reason I'm not afraid of it, for some reason I'm not shying away because it's what I wanted all along. The answer to my question. Am I a memory ready to fade into forever? Or maybe I'm... something else.

The living can have their forever.

I'll just have mine.

With Mantel pictured in my mind, I close my eyes and walk into the unknown...

My forever begins.