Gunner Laws // D12 // FIN

Every story starts with a simple four words. Once upon a time...

You were just a boy, too young to talk. Eyes wider than the moon and the stars above you, even though they were just sticky glowing pieces stuck to the ceiling by your parents. You had been smaller than the others. Eyes wide with all the innocence in the world. You couldn't remember why you were there. You just remember the room and the ceiling, staring up to the pretty bits and pieces that glowed above. A voice that's just nothing more than a whisper sends a warmth to your back as a palm holds you steady. "Gunny, Uncle Jaime bought us those." A flash of a man who's got bags under his eyes and a large mug you'd tried to take him from him, the smell being warm and crisp. As you look up and back, you know there's someone watching you now.

The smell of pine and crisp blue eyes staring back to you. A giggle slips from your lips as the bigger person laughs at you. You can still remember the flash of arms coming to get your sides. A giggle expanding into a laugh as the stars glowed above you. It's hard to remember why you had been there in the first place. All you remember was as soon as a shout echoes through the room, the laughter is sliced apart. The blue eyed bigger person speaking to the baggy eyed man, a sort of grim silence before you are lifted up by strong arms and handed away to somewhere else. You can remember wanting to not leave. The tears on your face tasting of salt and snot. You were so small then. The only memory you have of Mitchell Laws before he died.

---

Once upon a time...

You were older. Words seemed to be much easier for you. You still looked up to see if the stars were still there. An open door meant to stay closed, you'd walk straight in there with your coloring books and plastic dinos, wanting to see the stars you so viciously remember. Pops tried to tell you Mitchell was no longer around, but your head couldn't wrap around those thoughts. No, you would keep them locked away. Mitchell Laws was dead, but not really. No, you saw those stars every time and he was alive, but not there. You'd crawl through the door, unbeknownst to Uncle Jaime or Pops. A smile on your face as you colored away at the plesiosaurus which had to be purple. Hours you'd spent in there.

Every visit, you'd find a spot in the cold blanket thrown over the bed with your book and plastic dinos. It was comfortable for you. A place where you didn't have to listen to pops and ma arguing. A place where your teacher doesn't call upon you for answers you couldn't swallow down and regurgitate. It's a safe place. Except, this time you'd not been alone. No, your cousin Carter was in the corner. Shuffling cards one by one in his hands, as if the world would take them away. Curiously, you close your coloring book to the page, leave behind your Trex and crawl closer to your cousin.

"Whatcha doin'?" Green eyes meet yours as he lets out a breath you wouldn't understand. A cousin who seems confused; you didn't know why. The cards in front of him glimmer with a clown, laughing with those white teeth. Staring back at you, Carter's words seem to be filled with something strange. An emotion bubbling around the edges of his vision, but you're too small, too young to see it. "Just some card tricks. It's nothing special." Except, to you it's wonderous. Magic was real for just a moment. Carter flips through cards and plays around with them showing you, Gunner, the ways suits dance. Kings and Queens and Jacks and Jokers playing with his head, shuffling around the room as if they're dancers at a ball. A giggle leaves your throat as you watch in awe.

"I could show you?" As if the glowing stars couldn't shine more on the ceiling, you shake your head in excitement. Carter gives the smallest of smiles as he begins to show you the ways to make them dance. Fingers flipping through cards. There's a sadness behind his eyes, glinting as if you were able to pluck it away for just a moment. You knew what pops said. Carter Laws wasn't the same since Mitchell died, but you'd seen him there. Behind those fingers forcing royals to dance, a glimmer in the glowing stars as if Mitchell's own hands were guiding your cousin. You'd seen him. Despite your pops words, you'd seen Mitchell. Even if he'd been dead before you were born. You'd seen him there, underneath those glowing stars stuck to the ceiling.

---

Once upon a time...

A year had passed since Cousin Carter showed you the tricks up his sleeve. You'd come over a few times a month, sit there and watch with awe as your cousin showed you more and more ways to use a card. You'd spent your free time practicing as a child in your room. Coloring books and plastic dinos put into boxes where now card houses and board games reside. You weren't old enough to understand it all, but you liked the objects. You'd understood the concept and you ran with them. Carter had always been sad. You'd seen the tears prick his eyes once or twice when he showed you tricks, but now you were going to show him yours.

A smile plastered on your face as you enter Uncle Jaime's house. The silence is the most palpable thing in the house. You don't know where to look. There's an eerie quiet as you go and make your way to the room. Glowing stars still stick to the ceiling, but a few are starting to fall off altogether. Dust coats many of them, but there's still a slight glow to them. You're alone in there. A silence as you look from side to side where no one resides. Alone. You've found yourself alone in this pitch dark room. Sliding your hand along the wall to the light, you flicker it on.

Instead of Carter, you find a card house. Steady in the center of the floor. A joker lays atop of it as your heart beats. The placement is perfect. You'd spent days trying to make one exactly like this. Except, yours always come falling down. A castle laying in ruins as you'd cry and cry and cry in frustration. There's a silence before you yell out to Pops and Uncle. "Where's Cousin Carter?" The air seems to burst into a tension as you wait. There's a shuffling sound as you wait. No one speaks, not even the house itself. There's noise outside, but it's the normal noise of Twelve busy and always alive.

The door creaks open to tears pouring down Uncle Jaime's face as you look up confused at him. A heavy breath as your uncle gets down to your level. "H-He's not home right now." A saddening disappointment comes over you as you look to Uncle Jaime. Your voice is soft when you ask the next question. "Why?" A grimace pulls to Uncle Jaime's face as he continues. "Well, he's uh... currently away. In the Capitol, he's uhhh... He's been reaped." Confused, you don't know what this reaping was. You knew about the Capitol. They were the big people who told them what to do. "What's reaped mean?" After a quick look of panic, you are told to sit on the bed with Uncle Jaime. Pops stands in the door as they tell you the truth. You cry harder than you've cried ever before.

Everything changes from that night.

You learned how stories are written with blood.

Your family's blood.

---

Once upon a time...

Carter came back home. Broken and battered and different. Softer than before. You'd given him all you could as a kid. Things had changed when he came back. You'd grown difficult in school. Smiled less than you used to. Carter had always kept a keen eye on you, but you'd seen the open wounds in his heart. You had to talk louder to him. Speak in more complete tones. You'd seen him give up on those card tricks, instead taking to the earth itself. You'd been disappointed by the new Carter Laws.

You were a teenager now. Old enough to understand your name would be there. Carter hadn't be the only one. Mitchell wasn't even alive when you were born. You'd seen Jayne the year after go in and make it farther than your cousin. It'd been a bit jarring for you as a kid. Everyone you cared for was ripped into stories. Built by the blood of your family into these stories controlled by people who didn't care. As a teenager, you rebelled in your own ways. Destroyed your uniform past notice for school. Played card games with other teens to take their allowances for the fun of it. Magic tricks to distract others while your grubby hands would snatch away their jewels.

You were a monster to many. No longer the knight you wished to be as a child. You're written with war in your heart. Smiling like a devil who's never been believed in. You are the worst parts of Twelve. You've left your heart open only for it to be struck over and over again. Your name is written in the blood of the Capitol. Your heart is crushed for the sake of selfish teenagers who want what they can get from you. You've spent your teen years smoking, drinking, sleeping, and being the biggest nuisance you can be.

Carter Laws doesn't look to you anymore.

There's no memories there.

He's just a husk of what he used to be.

You have grown, blossomed into a painful bloom where your blood soaks the pages of an unwritten story.

And the page always turns.

Once upon a time...

You were Gunner Laws. A boy who desired to be with those glowing stars on the ceiling, but they've all fallen off.

A barren ceiling is all that's left.

Everything fades.

You will not.