final masquerade {pine oneshot} TW

Pine Oak

One tear after another slid down the side of his face before being carried away with the heavy gusts of wind. Leaves rustled in the trees as others scurried across the ground as Pine looked around. A heavy heart set inside his chest, and it hurt to breathe. A savior saved his life, but in the end it was his death that tore him away from the world. It had been so long since he cried, but now a broken heart bled. Many questions still lingered through his mind, but one he will never answer - Why did you volunteer to save me?

Not a single bird chirped in the dreary sky, and that was where he found happiness, but today it didn't exist. Why would it? None of it mattered anymore.

A shaky hand lifted a bottle from the table. It had been so long since alcohol stood before him - Pine wanted to become clean. He yearned for the chance to change his life, but it should've been his face in the sky. Instead, it was a man he didn't know. A man he never saw before volunteered, and Pine thought he was foolish for it. The price was paid. But soon the tip of the bottle pressed against his lips, and the vial substance ran down his throat igniting everything in its path.It fell from his hands crashing against the ground. Glass shards flew everywhere, and he didn't even care to clean up after himself.

Frail fingers wrapped around a broken pen before scribbling onto a sheet of paper;

I'll be back eventually. Don't try to find me.

It didn't matter who found it or even if he returned.

Death had called his name, but he managed to escape once more. Yet he couldn't even lift his head as the world crashed around him. Family didn't matter, they couldn't save him from the guilt sitting sourly inside the pits of his stomach. What was the purpose of living? No lumberjack company would hire a one handed kid. Nobody would give him the chance because he couldn't hold the axe. The risk was too high, and it wasn't one many would put up with. The shops in the district didn't belong to him. Not to mention he ruined his own reputation the moment he turned to the life of drugs and alcohol.

Maybe it would've been for the best he died.

With a heavy breath, he threw the paper down and ran through the door.

Even the sky cried.

Rain pelted against his face sending icy chills throughout his entire body. Yellow stained teeth chattered against one another, and each time he exhaled, the breaths crystallized before his very eyes. Every hair stood on end. Joints ached, but he kept moving forward. One foot after another pound against the soggy ground. Shaggy hair plastered against the side of his face. Drops of rain dripped from the tips of his hair mixing with the tears streaming from the corners of his eyes.

A low grumble bellowed from his stomach as the alcohol sloshed around inside, and as soon as the entrance to the cemetery grew larger in the distance, he leaned forward and all the contents rushed out violently. Acid burned his throat, and the little bit that ran into his nose made him want to cry even more. Every muscle inside his stomach and chest forced it all out until nothing remained but the yellowish tent of the stomach acid. Drinking on an empty stomach then going for a run was never the best idea, but it was something he had to do. Getting away was important, and maybe finding a way to die was the best. The one who saved him should've been running through the streets of district seven, but his name had been etched into a stone as a lifeless corpse rot beneath the ground.

Wiping his face, he stood up, eyes locked on the sky. Rain made it all worse, and yet not even a single bolt of lightning or rumble of thunder made its appearance known.

Moving forward, he carried himself into the tribute cemetery. He didn't go when Iris died in the seventy-third games, but right now it was important because he wanted to join her. His life wasn't worth living anymore. Every breath hurt. His body ached, and it took so much out of him to even crawl out of bed in the mornings. The last several weeks had been the worst he ever experienced, and he can't get it out of his head that he was given a chance he didn't deserve. The least he could do was say goodbye to someone who died no his behalf, but even that wasn't what he wanted to do.

Maybe his cousin, Iris, and Chester would welcome him with open arms, or maybe they would send him to the pits of hell where he belonged.

Soon he stood before the two newest graves, but the one he cared for was the one belonging to the man who saved him, Chester Meisenzahl.

A heavy heart plummeted against the muddy ground with a deafening thud. Every breath caught in the back of his throat, and his legs gave way sending him tumbling face first. Tears stained his eyes, and the once silent cries became ones laced with violent sobs. Death wasn't always this painful, but maybe this was what it felt like to live in a world where nobody cared. Nobody would miss him. Nobody would come to say goodbye, and Pine was nearly certain nobody would attend his funeral if the vultures didn't pick his flesh away from the bones before someone found him.

He opened his mouth to speak, but not a single word slid from his tongue.

Death hadn't come for him, but maybe it would. Maybe it needed assistance to steal individuals from the world, or perhaps Pine had to act alone. For the longest time he swore he would never interfere with the greater plan, however, today was different because he didn't deserve to live when an innocent soul died to save him.