<< waking up >> [Andy]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px; background-color: 1C121F; border: BAB079 solid 4px; width: 500px; height: 181px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 50px 50px 50px 50px;][atrb=width,300] ::Distrcit 6::Male::18::

I don’t even need to turn around to know that Andy was now making his way over to me, I knew, knew by his uneven gait, I knew by the small grunts of pain. I just knew. It seems like years listening to his uneven footsteps come closer and closer, when really, it had only been a few moments. I listen as they become louder, as they bounce around through my mind. I listened until they could be heard no more. Silence filled the air, pushing down around us, like a blanket of smoke, threatening to suffocate me. I didn’t know what to say to him. Hell, I couldn’t even bring myself to look at him… I didn’t want to see the pain that would be written across his face, or the anger, or the annoyance. I just wanted o be on my own, lost in my thoughts- lost in my guilt.

”What was that back there? That wasn’t you.” Finally Andy breaks the silence, his voice slicing though the silence, slicing through my mind. What was that back there? The question races though my mind, back and forth, back and forth. I don’t even take in the second part of his question; all I hear is the part about me, about what had happened. I had no idea what had happened back there, I had no idea why I had done it, I had no idea what had happened to me. But all I knew is that it wasn’t me, it wasn’t the person I had known myself to be, but some stranger. I didn’t need to look at him to know that he was angry, confused about what I had just done. But I didn’t know how to answer him, I didn’t know what to say. How could I tell him that I had no idea what had happened back there? That everything was a blur in my mind, that I barely even remember picking up that hand, that stupid severed hand?

I couldn’t tell him that. He wouldn’t believe me, hell, I wouldn’t even believe me. For a moment I let the silence drag on, giving myself more time to think over his question. What was that back there? I didn’t know. That wasn’t you. That wasn’t you. It was the first time I had even considered the last part of his little speech. I knew, I knew it hadn’t been me. The me I knew would never have done some stupid little thing like that. The me I knew would have gotten angry, but would not have slapped a girl across the face before laughing hysterically. The me I knew would not have lost himself so easily.

“I don’t know… I just… I don’t know what happened Andy. Okay.” I say finally, falling to my knees to sit across from him. For the first time I turn my gaze to him, my eyes meeting his for a moment. I had no idea what he would see… Would he see the crazy boy who had come out back at the chests? Or would he see a confused broken boy that I am now? “I broke. I just broke.” I try not to think back to the blood bath, back to the screams of pain, to the smell of blood. I didn’t want to remember, remember anything about it. Especially not the way I had stabbed that boy in the throat. All the other details about the blood bath were there, in my mind… but they were blurry, they were almost hidden, I could remember small things, things that haunted me. But… but that one boy, that one attack was printed in my mind. Every time I closed my eyes. Every time.

“It was the way she died, you know. Cut open at the throat. Her life had drained from her body the same way.” I didn’t realise that I had said anything out loud, but I knew I had. Something told me I had. “The way he died, the way I killed that boy… it was the same. The same way that she had died. I had told myself, countless time, that that didn’t make me a monster. But I am wrong, aren’t I? I am a monster.”I say, my voice dipping low. I could feel myself breaking again, but this time it was different. This time it was mentally. Day one. Day one and I had already broken.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px; background-color: 1C121F; border: BAB079 solid 4px; width: 500px; height: 181px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 50px 50px 50px 50px;][atrb=width,300] ::Distrcit 6::Male::18::

Every time I tried to forget, every time I tried to push the thought to the back of my mind, it would come back, stronger than ever. Her death. His death. Both of them, both of them haunted me. It had only been a few hours since he had died, but that didn’t matter. It was imprinted in my mind. Imprinted in my memory. Every time I saw her body fall to the ground now, he was next to her, but instead of seeing the man towering over her, I see me. I see me staring down at her, my face grim. I see me clutching the knife, my body looking over hers. It was me? Wasn’t it? Really, it must have been.

No. She didn’t die because of me. No. He did it. He was the reason. Shaking my head, the images of the bodies are pushed out of my mind. I didn’t need this now- huh. That’s what I always told myself. That now wasn’t the time. That now was not the time to be seeing her, to be reminded of her death. But what if it was the time, what if it was that time so many years ago? What if it was my own fault that I kept seeing her? I never- never- let myself let her go, l ways clinging on to her, clinging onto the hope that it was not my fault. But what if I just had to let her go? Accept that her death was my fault? Would both of us be free?

”You’re not a monster, Mik. You saved my life by doing that.” The sound of Andy’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts, I turn my gaze to look at him, his face was soft, his eyes reflecting how her felt. Sympathy floated around in them. He had realised, realised that I had broken, that what had happened back there, back at the chests, had been some sort of- some sort of what? A moment of insanity? Was I losing my mind? You saved my life. My mind flashes back to the blood bath. Andy lies on the ground, his arm sliced from his body, a boy stood over him, screaming words that I didn’t understand. The only thing that had run through my mind was that it was his fault. That he had to pay. That’s when I had run at the boy, all intentions of killing him…How was that not a monster? ”If it wasn’t him then it would’ve been me but you didn’t let that happen. So I guess… thank you.”

The last words fall from his lips and I don’t know what to think. Should he be thanking me? I had killed another boy, even if it had meant saving his life… I had taken away the most valuable gift another human had: the gift of life. I could of maimed him, or cut his arm off as revenge, but no. I took it all the way; I went so far as to take his life. That was nothing Andy should be thankful of, even if it was his life that I managed to save.

I’m about to say something but Andy cuts me off, his question stopping the comment that I was about to slip from my lips. ”Who was she?” Instantly my whole body tenses and I pull my gaze to the ground. My sister, that’s who she was. Someone I loved to death, someone who was stolen from me… and it was my fault. I don’t say anything to him. His question hung heavily in the air between us. Yes I wanted to tell him, I would have, without a second thought if I had not of known about the cameras which were probably now watching or every move. Did I want everyone to know about her? Did I want the capitol to know about her death, to know how much it affected me?

“My sister. She was my sister.” I say, my voice so quiet that I was not sure that he was even able to hear me. I turn to look him directly in the eye. “She died by her throat being slit. I had watched… unable to save her…” I finally manage to choke out. Watched I had as he pressed the knife to her throat.