Slowly Fade and Yet Still Remain {Stanley/Oliver} JB

The girl who'd been reaped had a surname that I was sure almost every single citizen of District Eight, and most of the citizens in all of Panem, would likely recognize. Her last name, Hope, was one that had been common among District Eight's tributes for years. I recognized the name, and judging by the chatter in the crowd at the reaping when her name was announced, it could be assumed that most other people did, too. The second name that was announced, however, was one unfamiliar to most people. His name, like mine, when it was called, didn't bring many people to attention at the reaping.

Stanley Schuster was a seemingly average District Eight boy like me. When his name was called, it wouldn't faze as many people as if he were from one of those bigger families that were often forced to send their children off to fight in the Games. Instead, he was like me, at least in the fact that people thought he was just average. I was sure that, however, he was also like me in the fact that, even though people thought he was average, he was truly unique, and the average citizen just didn't know it.

I hated the fact that, even though I had survived the Games, or at least, had been resurrected after them, I still had to enter the reaping. I was, however, grateful for the fact that it wasn't my name that was called this time.

Was I allowed to be grateful, though, that another boy was going to go in to fight instead? He would go through experiences much like my own, and there was nothing I could do about it. He would have to fight. He might have to kill. He might have to die, and there was nothing I could do to stop it aside from taking his place, but I couldn't get myself to do that. Was I being selfish, letting someone else go through such a horrible thing? I knew how horrendous the Games were, having experienced them firsthand, yet I was letting someone else go through it anyway when I could stop it and do it myself.

The trauma I'd experienced both physically and emotionally, though, wouldn't let me muster up the courage to take his place. I just hoped that he would understand. I also hoped that he was strong enough to get through this. I didn't want to wish death on other tributes, but I wanted one of our own to emerge victorious so that they didn't have to be killed in such a terrible way. Or, if they didn't emerge victorious, perhaps it would be better for them to die early on, so as to avoid living in the arena any longer than they had to, perhaps even having to die with the guilt of killing someone.

---

After the reaping, I just wanted to tell this boy that I felt for him, and that I understood exactly what he was going through right then. I'd done that for the Hope girl, going to visit her right after the reaping was over with. Now, I knew, that meant that it was time for me to speak to Stanley. He deserved to hear that someone cared about him and knew what all this was like.

---

I knocked gently on the door before I entered the room that Stanley was in in the Justice Building. When I went in, I walked over to him the best I could with the crutch I had used since after that damn sloth broke my knee in the Games (it never did heal right). I kept my distance, though, not quite sure what he'd think of me coming here, or if he'd even actually recognize me. After all, Damaris hadn't recognized me at first from what I could tell. Regardless of the fact that most people in District Eight recognized me, I shouldn't expect it from everyone. I actually preferred it sometimes when people didn't know who I was.

"Hey Stanley, I hope it's alright that I'm here," I said to him, extending the hand that wasn't holding my crutch, out in greeting. "I'm Oliver Wren. I was a tribute last year, in the 80th Games."

I looked at him with a small smile on my face, but it faded after a moment when I spoke again, as the topic wasn't necessarily the most cheery.

"I want you to know, Stanley, that I went through this, too. I know what it all feels like, and I want you to know that you're not alone." I looked at him gently.

"I know I didn't win the Games, but if you have anything you want to ask me about them, or anything you just want to ask me in general, I'm here to talk, okay?" I paused before saying one more thing to him real quick.

"I don't know you, but I believe that you're strong."