Separation [Deimos' Death]

The moment I had fallen it was over for me - I knew that right away. With my leg gone I was an easy target, and both of my opponents took advantage of it. My only hope was that I could have killed them before they killed me but it was not to be. I was too slow, my blows too soft and the fighting spirit of the two boys I faced was too strong. I do not blame them, it was only their instinct to survive that had driven them to this and the Capitol that had forced us into this hell. The Gamemakers had directed us towards each other to see a fight go down, I was sure. Well, a fight was what they got for all the four of us would have rather been left alone. Now my gut told me it was too late for me to get out of this mess. Among the bamboo, that stood tall above each of us, I was cut down. Like the great pine trees that decorated my old home of District seven, I was felled by the heavy handed stroke of an axe.

The boy laughed at the spastic
Dancing around in the rain
While laundrettes cleaned clothes,
High heals rub toes

I told myself I didn't want to be one of those people who talked to everyone in their life before they died, or apologized for things they had done. Little had I known that I wouldn't have been able to even if I had changed my mind. Not only was I missing part of my left leg, but I had also received a very deep wound to my right ankle meaning that I couldn't move out of the way of any blow that was coming. Time had moved slowly, and I didn't remember how the world worked as it all seemed to stop and then spin in reverse. Rather than upside down, my world had gone backwards and I seemed to no longer be the center of it. I felt as though my world had collided with another person's and theirs had swallowed mine, leaving me with nothing but the faint shade of gray that fell at dusk. Something inside me screamed that it was my dusk and that the collision of these two worlds would cause me to become lost. Perhaps I had already been lost, with the blood I had spilled and the people I had left dead. I had been left nowhere to go but away. Maybe it was best now.

Puddles splashed huddles
Of bus stop crows
Dressed in their suits and their boots
Well they all look the same

I had enough control of myself to reach up and touch my guitar pick, the hard blue plastic feeling like the only solid thing I had though it no more held me to this place as the foggy bamboo or the ever-burning pain that still lanced through my body. I never knew what the end felt like, had never thought about it, but it seemed to come down on me like a wave. I don't know if I could have ever predicted the feeling that slowly spread through me like ripples on the top of a pond. Each ripple slowly spread further and further to the extent of my being and they built up with each successive ripple until I felt like I would burst from the pressure. My mind drifted from the calculated thoughts of a human as the sane part of my mind drowned in the horrible feeling of helplessness that soaked into my every atom. The animal part of me wanted to run, to attack, to flee, to fight. It wanted me to do something.

I took myself down
To the cafe to find
All the boys lost
In books and crackling vinyl

I remembered the words I had told myself many times to keep from falling apart, one step at a time. Well, it was hard to take any steps now that my legs were as good at useless. I couldn't even launch another attack to aid Yaa against our two assailants. Maybe it was better this way. I would no longer be a burden to my three comrades, this would make their chances that much better. I wanted them to win. I knew foolishness was in the thought that they all could win, but at this point foolishness would no longer change who I was or what will become of me. It was no less foolish of an idea than believing I could win. I only hoped that I wasn't so wrong again.

And carved out a poem
Above the urinal that read
Don’t you cry for the lost
Smile for the living

The boy from ten approached, axe in hand as he raised it over his head. It was like an execution, and I knew my crime. Numerous counts of third degree murder and one count of first degree murder. Names, faces, districts; they were all gone now because of things I had done. In particular, the girl from District eleven - Nightshade Bluesea - whose name I had paid distinct attention to after being the cause of her death. Tracking her down and killing her was my most severe crime and I was due to be caught for it eventually. It just seemed like I had been found sooner than I had thought. I accepted that my price was due to be paid, and so I didn't try to fight. Instead, I wrote cleanly on the cheque and handed it over. The fugitive was found and arrested, the police gave him a fair trial and he was found guilty on all counts. scheduled for execution he was asked for his final words. He stayed silent, instead handing over a cheque written in his own blood.

Get what you need
And give what you’re given
Life’s for the living so live it
Or you’re better off dead

Deimos Lasner
District seven, Panem

PAY TO THE ORDER OF Nightshade Bluesea
My life- $Blood

MEMO I know it isn't enough, but it's all I have.
Deimos Lasner

While the evening pulled
The moon out of it’s packet
Stars shone like buttons
On an old man’s jacket

However, I had a little time before it was cashed. Raising my eyes, I hoped a camera would catch my face. People needed to see that I accepted my fate, and that I was not going to beg for mercy or cry that I didn't get my way. I was no longer the boy who had thrown up before the reaping, I was a man on his way to the noose. I would put the noose around my own neck and not fight as the lever was pulled. I stayed silent though inside I was screaming. Screaming that Joey would remember my song, that Yaa and Andal and Mikhail would remember me, that I would not die a coward. I accepted my death, even if I wasn't ready to die. It had seemed like only this morning that I had finished the last of my song, watching Yaa sleep for the last hour of our rest. Then I realized, it had only been this morning. Only a few ours ago I had no idea I was going to die, only a few hours ago I thought life may actually be a possibility.

We needed a nail
But we tacked it ’til it fell of the wall
While pigeon’s pecked trains,
Sparks flew like planes

I had woken with little more than hour's sleep, something stirring in my brain and telling me that it was time to finish those lines of symbols and letters and finally have a song. Quickly, glad to find the previous half had not left me, I traced the beginning of it in the dirt before trying to come up with more. My inspiration flowing after the death of the District eleven girl by my hands and the separation of Andy and Mik from us I easily wrote the next version of the chorus.

'I don’t know if I want to win
But I think that it might be
Possible, oh it’s possible
Foolish hopes and foolish hearts
Giving in to foolish thoughts
We will keep on fighting.'

I had thought we would be able to keep fighting, to make our way through and maybe have a chance at getting home. Living though the bloodbath had given me a false sense of security, foolish hopes and foolish hearts. How could I ever think that one day's bloodshed would secure that of another's. I had doomed myself with my illogical thinking, even if it was human nature to hope. Human nature was wrong here, we were driven to animal-like tendencies by the Gamemakers and all sense of humanity failed when confronted. But at the start I had clung to my humanistic ideals, wanting to remain free of the dark stain I now carried. Remembering how I had shied away from conflict at the beginning, terrified of the chaos that had raged all around me, I felt a pit of guilt drip into my stomach.

'But the blood I spilled
It stains my heart,
It taints my mind
I'm not the man I was before.'

The rain showed
The rainbows in the oil stains
And we all had new iPhones
But no one had no one to call

I changed so much, letting myself be taken over by the urge to follow a lone tribute and kill her for the joy of the hunt and the prospect that I had gotten us one step closer to home. I wasn't sure if I regretted it or not, which was the worst part. If I had at least truly felt horrible about it maybe then I would still be the old me. Didn't I know that I would become someone else in here, didn't I tell myself that before? Once more I had given in to foolish thoughts. It wasn't hard to figure out how the song ended, just repeat each chorus once. I traced them below the rest of the words, realizing with a sense of bitter happiness that I was almost done.

'I don’t know if I want to win
But I think that it might be
Possible, oh it’s possible
Foolish hopes and foolish hearts
Giving in to foolish thoughts
We will keep on fighting.

I don’t know if I want to win
With all the things that I have seen
Lost in the horrors of the forest
Severed hands and severed hearts
Traps springing in the dark
Can will keep on fighting?'

Even though I was done, it didn't feel done. It was too open, too optimistic. How could I end it and show that minds change in a place like this? There was no way to know if we would even keep on fighting. Will we keep on fighting? That was it.

'Will we keep on fighting?'

And I stumbled down
To the stomach of the town
Where the widow takes
Memories to slowly drown

Done, and as relieved as I was disappointed, I sat back on my heels and read over my words. The melancholy in me was at the joy that I had finished the song, but the sadness that I was left without something to do now that it was done. I had nothing to think about when I couldn't sleep for the fear, and nothing to figure out how to present to others. I knew it wasn't time yet for me to sing it for the others, though the melody already filtered through my head as the odd spot of sun filtered through this stifling fog. Waiting for the right time might leave me unable to show them, so I at least wanted someone to have it. Looking around, I tried to spot a camera and make sure its attention was on me. I gestured to the words, then wrote beside it as a message to the one person back home I cared about, the same person that would do this for me. Joey, buddy, I need a favor.

The words I sketched beside my song read 'Joey, please write this down and keep it safe. I want Yaa to see it sometime.' I let it sit there for some time, hoping that Joey was writing it down. When I heard Yaa beginning to stir I looked up before quickly brushing away the words and hoping she wouldn't notice. All of those symbols, the letters and words and syllables marked in the dirt, disappeared without resistance as I moved my hand over them. Permanence, once more it was shown to have no meaning here.

With a hand to the sky
And a mist in her eye she said
Don’t you cry for the lost
Smile for the living

Now I realized she might never hear it. With my death I only had the hope that Joey had written it down and would either send her the note or that she would win the Games and would return home where she might eventually see the words I had traced on the ground in the recap video. But that was not how I wanted us to end. I didn't want to leave her before we really even found each other. I had wanted us to share one moment together, just one, but now the only moment she'll have with me is the one where she watches my head roll. It was a regret I would carry with me for however long my memory remained in some form or other. I begged myself not to cry, not to show any weakness, but it was so hard when I thought about Yaa.

Get what you need
And give what you’re given
Life’s for the living so live it
Or you’re better off dead

I had always thought I had two weaknesses. One had been my fear of the reaping, the one thing that had always driven me to the edge and sometimes over that wasn't rain. I guess I had overcome that fear now, hadn't I. It was over and done with and I would never have to worry about it again. In truth I would never have to worry about anything again but that wasn't the point because no matter what happened after I died I would still worry for Yaa, and Andal and Mikhail, but mostly Yaa. Nothing would calm my worries, not until I knew how it all would end. Some selfish part of me didn't want her to win, so we might be together, but even that side wasn't as strong as the care and hope I felt for her. I wanted her to win. I wanted her to kill the people that were about to kill me and to leave this place free of guilt about my death. It wasn't her fault, it was nobody's fault but my own. With each drop of blood I spilled I condemned myself again to a fate not unlike those I had murdered.

Well I’m sick of this town,
This blind man’s forage
They take your dreams down
And stick them in storage

My other weakness was rain. Water falling from the sky to crash down on my head and scream that I was a horrible child. My mother's voice would make a noise like a banshee each time rain cracked against the window panes, swearing at me and telling me that she regretted the day I was born. While I no longer had lived with them I could never ignore the terrors that the rain always brought, dark memories of the near drownings I had suffered at the hands of my parents. I thought back to how I had finally revealed some of what I thought during my interview, bitter joy touching my heart. They had no more hold on me anymore, they hadn't the moment I had walked out the door to never return, and then when I had been reaped, and now when I was about to have my life taken by someone fighting for theirs. Rain would always haunt me, but it was the only thing that remained of my parents and for that little sense of relief I was grateful.

You can have them back son
When you’ve paid off your mortgage and loans
Oh hell with this place,
I’ll go it my own way

But Yaa. Yaa was the weakness I had never expected to have. I had known that I would get to know her, being my District partner had meant that we had been around each other to learn things about one another, but never once had I expected to grow more feelings for her than the sense of regret I would have if she died. Now I may as well have been knocked flat in surprise at the unexpected affection I had come to feel, an emotion she may or may not share. I would now never know, and I cursed Ripred for stealing this one thing from me. I didn't care that I was about to die, but I really had wanted to show Yaa how I felt. Did she know? Would she ever know? If only I could tell her, let her hear how I feel because this would be the last chance I would have to say it.

I’ll stick out my thumb
And I trudge down the highway
Someday someone
Must be going my way home

Clenching my jaw I swallowed back the lump in my throat and prayed that I would not cry when I spoke, she had to be able to hear me clearly. Searching for her eyes, those wonderful eyes that could ooze with her sarcasm or shine with her joy, I needed to know that she heard me. I opened my mouth to speak, but that simple act made a tear slip from my eye to make its silvery path down my cheek. Furious with myself I swallowed again, trying not to sniff despite my nose starting to go runny. I didn't know if she realized what was about to happen, but she would see soon enough. Still, I had to say goodbye. Once more I tried to temper myself and speak again, gazing into the eyes of the one person I hadn't wanted to lose. Now I would be lost to her, and to Andal and Mikhail. All of them would still be in the arena after my body had been picked up my the hovercraft and taken to the Capitol where it would be prepared for burial and made all pretty so I wouldn't look like some monster when people at home said goodbye.

Till then I’ll make my bed
From a disused car
With a mattress of leaves
And a blanket of stars

I still felt like a monster, like no matter what the Capitol did they couldn't make me into anything better than I was. Maybe Yaa would see me as something more, something better. She knew the terrible weight that came from killing someone and she would be able to understand what I had gone through. It was all I could hope for because now I would never be able to make up for everything that I've done. Lovely Yaa, who I had fallen for so quietly I hadn't even noticed, could so easily turn from me in my last moment with a look of disgust or horror on her face. It would be a gruesome death, I know, but I didn't want her to look away. For all it would spare her eyes it would hurt my heart and I wanted her to this one thing for me.

And I’ll stitch the words into my heart
With a needle and thread
Don’t you cry for the lost
Smile for the living

I took a look at Erik, knowing I had only a few seconds left to say what I wanted to say because he was about to commit himself to downward stroke that would end my life. With one thing left to do before it fell I tried to compose myself. Swallowing what few of the tears I could, and the last of my pride, I gazed at Yaa and said, "Yaa I-" but then the axe came down.

- love you.

______________________________________________________________________

Get what you need
And give what you’re given
You know life’s for the living so live it
Or you’re better off dead

The guitar pick on its string flew from the severed neck of the boy, landing a distance away and near the feet of his District partner. The tip was bloodied, but miraculously it was not damaged. As though it asked to be picked up it seemed to wink in the last light of the boy's lit saw before the fire gave a last flicker and faded like its master's life had just done. The glazed eyes of Deimos Lasner showed no surprise in them, and they stared ahead on a sideways view of the world. The brown hair, soaked with blood and sticking up in random points, looked black and the dark puddle of red that formed around the head and body began to soak into the ground to forever stain it a ruddy colour. Still, the blue of the pick stood out like a light on a dark night and once more it begged to leave this place. It no longer belonged to the boy from District seven, but his partner.

Please Yaa, don't leave me here.

Don’t you cry for the lost
Smile for the living
Get what you need
And give what you’re given

[End of Deimos Lasner]
[Guitar Pick Token to be given to Yaa,
the rest goes to Erik as the killer.]