fair is foul, and foul is fair // {emigo day 6}

“Emery,” Iago whispers softly. Another quiet sob escapes my lips, because it feels good to hear my name again, not as if I’m an object but as if I’m a live human being. It was easier when I treated myself as if I were an object; I didn’t have to worry about pain like this – the kind of pain that seeps through your veins and into your nerves and ends up in the very core of your brain, slowly dismantling each thought piece by piece. My head still resting wearily against the ground, I listen for Iago’s voice, his footsteps, anything. I just want to hold tight to his shirt again and rest my head against his shoulder – although I’d much prefer to have Rolex here…but I can at least pretend, can’t I? I can at least tell myself I love Iago the way I love Rolex and maybe my head might speak truth someday.

I lift my head from the ground with the little energy I have, relieved by the sounds of footsteps. Help me, my mind is crying. I don’t want to die…I can’t die. I have to see Rolex’s face again, if just once more. I turn my head, hoping that Iago is here to help me out of this disaster of glass scattered around me, hoping he’ll carry me out like the little weak child I have become. However, the sight of the kneeling boy with a glaive clutched in his right hand does not gratify me whatsoever. “Go to sleep,” he says, but my eyes are plastered to the weapon in his hand, my whole body taken by an unceasing series of shivers. No. No, no, no. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry, I lied. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to ever die. There’s no honor in death, no mercy. There’s just an end: an ending I don’t want to face.

“No…no,” I shake my head, my eyes widening as I inch backwards in fear of a boy who I never saw as a monster until now – now that I have nothing left, now that I am weak. However, I realize that there’s only death in moving backwards. The future is forwards, and if I want one, I’d better move in the right damn direction. I wipe the tears away from my eyes, hoping that it will make me look at least a tiny bit less weak. Instead of cowering away from the killer before me, I throw my hands out in front of me and grab Iago’s shirt, using my one remaining knee to knock the glaive out of his hands so that it lands further than an arm’s length away. “You’re not going to…no, I won't...!” I shout between breaths as I get on top of Iago with the little strength I have left.

“You’re nothing…nothing without me! Once I'm dead…you’ve got nothing. You’re alone, Iago. For the rest of your life, that’s what you’ll be. Fucking alone.” My attempt to pin him to the ground is of great failure, but I dig my hands into his chest, hoping it might keep him down. "Keep killing people who almost give a damn about you and let me know how that works out." This is why I told myself I wasn't going to be anything more than a numb body; this is why I wrapped a thick coat of unfeeling around myself and denied any love I ever thought I had with Rolex. If only I could have that coat back, because winter has finally come and the air suddenly stings with a painful cold. There's a difference between Iago and I. I don't tell people they matter to me and then turn around and kill them. I just kill them. I bring my fists up, ready to plant them both on Iago's face, but a sudden shot of pain rushes through me and I let out a quiet cry of pain as I discover the large piece of glass in my right arm. I bring my fists up one more time, but the single moment's hesitation cost me quite enough.

There’s weakness in those eyes. “SHUT. UP!” he screams, and I know I’ve hit the spot. If I’m too weak to hurt him with my fists, I can at least slap him hard with my words. “Well I don’t care about anyone, Emery. That’s the whole point, isn’t it? That’s how you win. You have to do it alone, or else it eats your soul. I thought you fucking knew that!”

I did know that; I still do. I was just hoping that Iago didn’t, merely putting my faith in the fact that he may just be as much of an idiot as I constantly deem him. But he’s obviously not the idiot here. If he was, he’d already have a crushed skull and a pair of lifeless eyes; but no – I’ll be the one with the lifeless eyes when the time comes, long before he is. I can’t let that happen, though. I can’t let him be the winner – the stronger of us two. Somehow, the thought of Iago living while I die is so terribly discomforting, because I know he’s getting some sort of satisfaction from this. He has to be. I would be, if I were the one standing over him right now. If he kills me, he isn’t just killing a tribute. He’s killing a Career: a girl trained since childhood to survive, arguably the most prepared and powerful person still alive in this arena. After I’d seen the power in Iago, I compromised with myself and labeled us almost as equals, but now…now we’re just…I’m just…

I struggle, scream, and do my best attempt to kick Iago as he ties my hands behind my back. I hope someone hears me; I hope little Lucy comes and stabs Iago in the back. At least then we’ll be going down together. I feel Iago’s warm breath on my face, and it causes the hair on my arms to stand because it’s just another piece of evidence, another sign that there’s a weakness in Iago. I wonder if the warmth in his breath is connected to a warmer part of his heart – a part I haven’t quite reached and crushed, but a part that I swear I will destroy before anyone destroys me. “I’m everything without you. I am Iago Izar! I survived the Jabberwocky! I killed two tributes and survived a nightmare! And I’m going to go home, because I don’t need anyone to tell me who I am or what I care about it!”

“If you don’t care about anyone, explain why you shoved your tongue into my mouth and kissed me! Explain why you carried me away from that fight when you could’ve just let Ewe make the last mark on me!” I try to pull myself off of the ground, but without my hands or feet available, I fall with each attempt. “How many times do I have to tell you? This is home. Whether you care or not, whether you win or lose, you’re stuck here forever, Iago Izar. So you know what? Kiss me again. Pretend like this is some bizarre fantasy, like we’re in love…” I nearly gag at the thought of his tongue in my mouth again. “…because I think you care about me, Iago Izar. I can't even stand on two feet, but you're still ten times weaker than me, and you'll figure that out once you kill me. You kill me, and I swear it'll fucking hurt.” I hope he’s distracted, confused, or maybe even entranced – I don’t know. However, I pull myself up on one knee, trying to stand up and reach his lips – anything to get him to let me survive. Anything.

Still, I fall back to the ground and onto my side again, my hands still tied behind my back while tears pour down my face. “Fucking kiss me, you idiot.” I don’t want to die. It’s not fair: it’s not at all fair that I’ve been dead for the majority of my life, convinced that feelings don’t exist. Now, here I am crying my eyes out as if I actually do have feelings, as if there are things on this planet I actually am afraid to leave, and yet I’m about to die all over again. My brother killed me once. And now Iago will too. Funny, huh? I always thought they were so dangerously similar, and yet I walked right into the trap. But I want to know how to live before I die.

“Just please…” I whisper between tears, unable to hide the weakness and the desperation in my voice. “Hurt me all you want, just…just don’t kill me." I pull my knees close to my chest as I lie helplessly on my side, staring at Iago's shoes. "I’d rather hurt…hurt forever than stop feeling again.”

Iago picks up his glaive from the ground, ignoring my pleas. I always thought that maybe he saw something in me that other people didn’t see; maybe he saw something beautiful in the way I couldn’t keep my fists away, in the way that I didn’t live my life the way other people did. I thought that there was something worth preserving there, and I thought Iago knew that; but now he’s seeing the darkest side of me – the human part: the feelings, the emotions, the part of me that is just like every other tribute in this arena, like every other human being on this planet. I’ve seen pieces of his weakness too, but not like this.

I feel so exposed, lying here with my knees to my chest, watching as Iago moves closer and closer with his glaive. I have no defense now, with my arms tied behind my back. I’ve fought, tricked, lied, pleaded – I’ve done everything to get Iago to let me live and feel just a little longer, but he refuses to give in. It’s not fair – not fair that I should die here with my killer knowing my deepest secrets, my weaknesses, my insecurities, while I know almost nothing about him. I haven’t seen Iago Izar cry.

Still, there are a few things I know him, one being the fact that he won’t let me live, two being the fact that he takes some sort of pride in carrying out what he says, some sort of pride in not allowing himself to change his mind. And yet, he’s still as much of a liar as me, maybe even more. At least I’m being honest about my damn weaknesses. I’d like to see him tell me he cares about me. I’d like him to admit it, because I know that’s the only reason he’s killing me…so that he doesn’t have to feel anything.

I wait for the blow to come, gasping loudly and shutting my eyes tightly as the glaive enters my arm. After a few moments, I muster up enough courage to open them, my breath slowing as I stare furiously at Iago. “I’m…I’m the liar?” I ask, wishing I could stand, wishing I could punch him in the face over and over and over again. “You…you said you wouldn’t walk away, you fucking traitor.” I pull my knees closer, hoping he won't come anywhere near me. I don't want anyone anymore, not Iago, not Rolex, not anyone. I should have hurt them while I could. "But you're funny, Iago. Trying to kill someone who's already dead." I flash him a tiny smile. He's gonna hurt alright, and I'll make sure of it.

“You know what death is, Emery?” Iago whispers as he leans over me – but I can't think about his words. All I can think about is my breath: in and out, in and out. Keep going, Emery. Keep breathing. Don’t let Iago distract you. He’s just trying to kill you. You know, most people want their death to be fast and quick – completely motionless – but I hope my death is slow. I’d rather it hurt; I’d rather feel and know everything before I die, however terrible it is, then die instantaneously without a thought in my mind. Peace is overrated; it’s all just lies. And I don’t want to die in a lie. All this make pretend that I’ve been talking about – I…I won’t let my death be another figure of make pretend too.

“It’s being alone forever,” he says, but I shake my head. He’s only inches from me now with his warm breath on my face again, but it doesn’t feel right. I want him to be miles away – somewhere where he can’t hurt me, but I can still hurt him. Once I close my eyes, I’ll be able to hurt him all I want. He can live his life pretending like he feels nothing, like this was all just something so terribly insignificant, but someday it’ll come back to bite him. Someday, he’ll want to hurt. He’ll want it so badly, he’ll tell himself that I did something. And when that day comes, I’ll give him what he wants. I’ll let him hurt.

“Then I must have been dead my whole life,” I whisper in fury, the tears having ceased. “I’m not...I'm not going to die in some stupid lie, Iago. My parents told me they loved me the day I was reaped, but I knew they’d never love me as more than an object, a trophy, a winner." I pause to take a breath, but it's becoming more and more difficult every second. "And Rolex – he...he can tell me he loves me all he wants, but I know he doesn’t love me for the monster I am. And you…well I don’t even know what your fucking problem is, but I’m not going to die here and pretend like I do.”

A sob escapes my lips again, weakness tearing me apart at the seams. “If you're not going to get away from me, at least get this damn tape off my hands.”

“You’re just the biggest fucking bitch I ever met, Emery.” It’s obvious that he’s at a loss for words; it’s so terribly evident that I’ve won this spoken battle, even if I am the one dying. And I will win many times more, I swear it. Iago won’t just forget me. He won’t win and live his empty little life with no care in his mind. I will haunt his thoughts each and every hour until the day he dies. I’ll make sure he lives; I’ll make sure he hurts and hurts and never stops hurting. “Just don’t tell me you’re fucking sorry… because I’m not sorry…” he says. What do I have to be sorry for? I never pretended to care about people, and then left them to fucking die. Honest Iago: there’s a liar in that boy. “Because it had to be one of us. And I wasn’t going to let it be me.” We could’ve gone further; we could have lived until the end and I…I could be the one in Iago’s shoes.

Iago cuts the tape between my hands, and I quickly hold them to my heart to make sure it’s still beating. I want to punch Iago in the face, but I know that won’t hurt him; it won’t make me any more of a winner. Instead, I pull the elastic band off my wrist. “Maybe you’re not sorry now,” I say. “But you will be, Iago.” I scoot a little closer to him and grab his wrist with the little energy I have, leaning against his body while I put the elastic band on him as if it’s a pair of handcuffs that will bind him to a terrible fate. “This...this used to be a candy bracelet. It used to be a joke…for all those kids bringing lockets...and treasures as their tokens…those kids who…who think it will reconnect them with their families and you with your stupid star necklace," I snicker, but the laugh is interrupting by a painful wince as I accidentally move my injured arm.

"But now it’s nothing. Candy’s gone. It’s just an elastic band.” I think back to the moment when I chewed that last piece and knew – and knew that this wasn’t a joke anymore, knew that I was going to die either way, that there was no way out of this, no way to beat the Capitol idiots who put me here, win or lose. “I dare you to never take it off. I dare you to look at it and see nothing…I dare you to pretend that I’m just as much nothing as this stupid piece of elastic…that this whole fucking place means nothing…that it will never mean anything.” My speech is weak with my slowed breathing, but I’ve managed to keep the tears off of my face. “But I can bet you that at some point, you’ll want to stop feeling nothing…at some point...it'll be too painful not to hurt." I put my hand back on his wrist. "And when that happens, all you have to do is snap this little elastic band against your wrist." I pull the band towards me, as far as it reaches, let go, and then suddenly...snap!

"You feel that?" I ask him, a smirk across my face. "It hurts." I keep my hand there, on his wrist, a shiver running down my spine as I try to catch my breath. Thinking about anything but my breath is becoming more and more difficult. "So I hope you learn how to fucking love the pain. I hope it helps you remember me, because...because I might not be here to punch you in the face but...but I'm still stronger than you, Iago Izar." I shiver, small gasps escaping my mouth as I move away from Iago. I won't die in his fucking arms. He doesn't get that satisfaction. I'm not his. I'm not anyone's. "You can't control me, you can't...they can't control me...my brother, he can't...make them hurt, Iago: Aaron and Rolex and my parents and...and Opal and Ewe and..." I put my hand to the huge gash on my arm, but I'm at the point where I can't feel anything anymore and I know the time is near. In and out, in and out. There's not another thought in my brain but in and out in and out in and out and I wish the thoughts could hurt me, but they don't.