Saying Goodbye (after the Reaping; Griffin, OPEN)

How can I let go of you,

Griffin sat, recalling what had happened just earlier that day. The sun had shone, bright and calming, warm and inviting. The air had smelt of harvest, of all the crops that created the textiles in District 8. Everything combined, it was a beautiful day. Only the Capitol could ruin such a day. Only the Capitol made Panem seem so dull on a day like this.

The one who holds my heart.

Griffin remembered eating an orange for breakfast, an orange his mother had sent. It had tasted so great, filling his mouth with its sweet tang. It made him feel sunny inside, despite that it was The Reaping day. The day children from District 8 would, most likely, never see Panem ever again.

We loved being together,

Griffin had put three tesserae in his name, in hopes that he would be able to leave Panem, to leave District 8, to leave a world that didn't need. A world that couldn't use a deaf boy. He wasn't sure of his emotions as he dressed himself in clothes that his mother had sent from the Capitol, specifically for this day. Dressed in a black button down shirt, some form of writing and symbols all over, and blue jeans, faded and beaten, which was supposedly the 'next thing' in the Capitol.

Now we cry as we're apart.

He and his father departed, into the District Square. Many children had already gathered. His father led him to the boys side of the Square, his hand firmly on his shoulder. He remembered how he wasn't worried, how he really didn't care. If he was chosen, he was just as good as dead, exactly as he planned. It was what he wanted. He was useless to Panem and nothing could stop him from dying at the Games. It was as if his destiny was sitting in front of him on a silver platter.

I turn and look one last time,

But what he hadn't expected was his father's hand tense upon his shoulder as the Mayor's lips moved for the first time. It was 'Ladies first.' after all. It wasn't his name that could have been called, yet his handed tensed and squeezed his shoulder at whoever had been called as the female tribute for District 8. His heart began pounding uncontrollably at the sight that met his eyes.

As you slowly walk away,

He remembered watching Ember slowly walk up the stairs, onto the stage for presentation. Horror had made its way into his bones in his very being. He felt his knees grow weak, his body giving a shiver. It was all he could do to stay still, to not move. His father's hand helped reassure him, helped him to remain steady, but Griffin hadn't been sure of what to do. He wanted to cry out, to erase everything. But no matter what, he couldn't. And when his father did not let him go and another boy stepped up, Griffin knew that he wasn't leaving with her.

Holding out my hands,

Griffin sat, waiting. His mind running through all the previous events of that day in his head. After Ember had left inside the building, he had sprinted home and picked up his sketchbook, recently dried of rainwater, the pages wrinkled and tinted. He drew and drew and drew his heart out. All his pent up emotions spilled onto the blank paper. And when he was finished, he quickly ran back to the Square, right to the building where Ember had led herself.

I quietly ask you to stay.

And so, all those events led him to sit on cold stone. Although the sun was shining, it was still cold. Chilling. He waited with his head in his hands, his sketchbook in his lap, a pencil behind his ear. Sweat was dripping down his back, his run that day making him sticky and dirty. He waited patiently outside. Someone was visiting her. Griffin knew it must be her family. Crying, saying goodbyes. She had so many siblings. He imagined them with red faces and sniffling noses. Did her younger brothers even understand? He stared at the door, intently watching for it to open.

You gently touch my hands,

As the door swung open, Griffin saw her family. Her sweet family. They were all cried out, all pain only left showing in their reddened and puffy eyes. Griffin was almost angry. Again, all of this was The Capitol's fault. But still, pain could not conquer the other feeling of despair inside him. Despair was so powerful, it almost always won.

And you give a silent 'Goodbye.'

As he stood, he tried not to draw too much attention to himself. He was sure that her parents didn't know him, that maybe they found his presence offensive, so he silently walked over to the door. Peacekeepers led him into the building, carpets blood-red, granite everywhere. It almost made the situation seem brighter, seem less upsetting. His sketchbook was patting against his hip as he walked, creating a sense of rhythm and relief.

You're forever in my heart,

As he reached Ember, he felt himself want to cry. But he held it all back, for her sake. She was also upset, red and puffy in the face. This was his only friend. The only person he had ever thought of as a friend.And she was leaving.

I hope you'll always know.

All he could manage to do was give a weak smile.

I just wish I was caught in a dream, where you weren't leaving. Where you weren't saying,

Time is closing in on us

Griffin stumbled backward as Ember jumped onto him, her arms embracing his neck. He caught himself against the wall and held her with only one arm around her, the other helping him keep balance. He loved the smell of her hair. The way it felt.

Quicker than I would have wanted it to

He knew he would miss that. Miss her.

I tried to make the moments last

Griffin was suddenly afraid his eyes might fill with tears, but he pushed them back. He wanted this moment to be a happy one. He wanted to remember happy things. He wanted to remember all the good times. He wanted to remember her as she was, to remember her without sorrow in her eyes. To remember himself as a deaf boy saved by a dying flame. Saved by an Ember.

But still they slip away

He remembered teaching her how to sign. They practiced often, going day-by-day, learning whatever they had found necessary to learn. It was hard, a challenge, but it had been one he wanted to overcome if it meant learning about her. Challenges were worth it when it came to Ember. Always worth it.

Day by day,
Hour by hour,
Minute by minute,

When Griffin was able to stand back up straight and Ember had descended back to the floor she spoke. Yes, with her hands. Speaking. He wish he could. He wanted so badly for her to hear his voice and so much more badly to hear hers. Sound. If it was anything like the vivid images in his eyes, anything like what he drew on paper, if sound created the same feeling as touch, then it must be amazing. And if Ember's voice matched what she looked like, then he wasn't sure he needed to hear it. He already knew.

Our time together lessens with each tick of the clock,

"I'm so glad you came! I couldn't leave without seeing you again."

"Griffin, I don't want to go. I don't want to die."

The day, the moment I have feared since I met you,

Griffin watched her eyes fill with the sorrow everyone refers to as tears and swallowed back emotion. But it stuck in his throat. Sorrow sure was sticky.

Continues to draw closer and soon I will be saying, 'Good-bye.'

Griffin gazed back at her. He put his hands in hers and began to sign in them. "You may have to go, but that doesn't mean you're dying." He paused. "Just because you are leaving now doesn't mean you will be gone forever."

Saying good-bye to someone I love with every inch of my soul,

Griffin had tried to convince himself of this all day. To find the part of him that knew that Ember would be home in a few months, safe and sound. But he wasn't sure that part was there.

Watching you leave as I stand crying, there is nothing more I can do.

Was it possible? Would she come back?

No more time I can savor,
No more hugs to drag out,
Nothing left.

Griffin picked up his sketchbook, and pulled out a page. Sure it was crinkly and stained and funny feeling and warped. But what the picture was wasn't. What it meant wasn't any of those things. It was the picture he had drawn earlier that day, when he couldn't believe his eyes. When he denied what he saw. It was a picture of where they met. The first day when she had tripped over him and they had ran around in the rain. Bliss. That's all it was. All it stood for.

I count each day until the moment when I can see you again,

He showed her then folded it into a square and wrapped her hand around it. All he wanted was for her to keep it close to her. Because,

Saying good-bye is never easy,

If the time came,

But one must always remember that good-bye,

when she just couldn't push on; when she couldn't get up; when she couldn't fight through it,

Does not mean forever.

that she could pull out the picture and just simply,

And there will come a time when again we can say,

"Remember."

Hello.