Barely Breathing [Mylee]

Five times. That's how long it took for him to finally feel numb about it all. Five Deaths. That's how many people he cared about died to the games. Mangled bodies forced to fight in a game where no one was a victor, not even the survivor. The victors were the worst of the mangled bodies that escaped the arena, mentally scarred with a wound that clawed their brain from inside out. Nothing could make them better, just like nothing could make him feel alive anymore. Five times. That's the amount of bodies he's had to see honored in a funeral or one's he had to celebrate on his own. Theo's funeral was a drunken night of crying and trying to forget everything he knew. It never worked, just like he knew it wouldn't work every time he wanted to come to the haunting place.

Flowers of red, white, and purple sits neatly in his hand. The perfume of the innocent object drifts to his nose, inhaling the smell of sorrows that he would leave at the graves of the dead. Surrounding himself with a coat of the sorrows, he'd drown within his own tears and alcohol later on. His goal was still alive for the day, even if it meant breaking his body down slowly. Upon entering the haunting place, memories of every death silently attacks his mind like the blades that had cut into Riordan's chest before Jequirity's death. The sting of sorrow grabs his sides every night, forcing him to fall to his knees like he's choking on the sobs that echo through his body, but there wasn't time for that.

The graves stand in line, stone cold, and silent. Silence, that's all that shrouded the graves that held so many of the dead from games and other things. As his hand touches a stone softly, the cement feels rough and yet smooth to the touch. His body feels on fire with memories of them all, Naveen's smile, Theseus' calming words, Jequirity's beautiful performances. Memories that haunt him in his dreams, yet it was the only time he truly felt alive in the world full of hatred and death. The stone arches stare at him, eyes of stone and sorrow, names engraved into their skin, bodies stuck in the ground with the coffin that holds the dead. Riordan can only move forward as his distaste for the place continues to grow.

The first stone arch holds Theseus Rhodium, a friend who showed Riordan that life wasn't fairytales and adventures, it was suffering and painstakingly rough. White flowers fall onto the ground in front of the stone arch staring back. His hand grazes the top of the stone, cold like Theseus' eyes when he watched as the blood flow from Theo's throat and onto the ground, Naveen's soft song echoing through. Riordan retracts his hand in fear of losing himself to the bad memories. Theseus Rhodium wouldn't want him to think of him, but focus on living life, not suffering through it. A deep inhale of breath gives his body life and the will to move onto the next grave beside Theo.

Naveen Casovnik is labeled clearly upon the stone that holds her, or what was left of her. Green grass and brown dirt cover the resting place of the first girl that Riordan had talked to in his entire life. Her voice was soothing to the ear. Dreams of her singing still helped him feel at peace, even if in the morning, he knew none of it was real. A soft frown fills his face with regret. Jay had missed her just as much as he did. Someone in the world knew how he felt about Naveen Casovnik, but forgotten words and broken hearts lay in her grave. Red flowers for the girl who the games had broken inside and out. Red flowers for the girl who had taken his heart the first time. Pieces of it lives in the stone that rests above her head. Winds caress his face as he steps away and enters farther in the graves. Naveen Casovnik's singing disappearing from his mind for that moment.

As he reaches the next destination, the sound of a violin in his mind can be heard. The strings playing beautifully in his mind, her smile on her lips, just as gorgeous as the day he met her. Everything about her had made him crazy to have her, but in the end, they had been nothing more than friends. In his dreams, he can see her smile as he would do something, her hair flowing down her shoulders. Everything about her, he missed. Everything she was, he missed. She was gone. Just like the others. Body aches for him to stop. The purple flowers still in hand. His mind forces his body to continue it's journey.

Each grave he passes, a purple flower for. One by one, he walked down the graves. Names of the fallen appearing before him. Keeni. Venn. That's when he saw the name etched into stone, Wyatt O'Connor. His finger traces the name softly, as it did with the others, a sign of respect in his family. Memories of his dead uncle's grave and how his mother told him to trace the name for peace in the afterlife. A simple idea that his mother's mother had and passed it on. Riordan wasn't one for superstitions, but when it came to the dead, peace was the only thing he hoped for them. A soft sigh escapes his lips, the air taking it on a journey somewhere else. As he places the flower in front of the stone, his heart beats for the fallen. Riordan Einfallen, did this every week, since Naveen had died. Grave after grave. He made sure every grave had a flower, so everyone can have peace in their passing. A soft frown fills his face, memories of the dead still fresh in his mind, and all he could feel was numb.