the world is black and white (no in-between) oneshot

His name hadn't been the one called but he had stood out of the crowd and screamed that he would be the one to die. I had watched as he (Jay Krearns- my friend) stepped away from the crowd and walked up those steps, my heart pounding faster in my chest. I had not known the boy long but for how long i had known him he was full of surprises, everything he did left me feeling flustered and confused. Just like now, as I watched him sign his death certificate, as I watched him walk out of my life forever. Usually I would feel nothing for the people on that stage, sometimes I might feel jealousy, but this feeling of emptiness was new, and it was a feeling that I wanted forget.

The ceremony ends and I leave.

I leave.

I don’t go see him, I can’t, not after was happened last time, not after was happened just now- what was I supposed to say to him? That I cared about him? That him doing this, that him saying that it was okay for him to volunteer was ok? I couldn't say that because it wasn't ok. He didn't get to do this. I know his like hasn't been all smooth sailings and all, I mean he has told me stories about himself and I could see, I could hear- almost feel- the pain which cursed through him and I never asked him to get to know me, I never told him to become someone who was more than just a faceless person in the crowd. He made that choice and now he was just throwing it in my face, like those kids had back when I was unrecognisable. He had told me that he was no bully, that he was a victim like me, but right now I didn't believe it. Right now I couldn't believe it.

Slowly the emptiness turned into anger.

He didn't get too make this choice.

He didn't get to decide when he wanted to walk out of the lives of people he had befriended.

He was like the rest of them.

He was making me into the vicim once again.

***

Days pass and I hear nothing. it was the morning of the bloodbath and I could help but get up early, my fingers tapping nervously on the table, my television screaming quietly as I waited for it all to begin. I knew he was in the capitol by now, they all were, it was all over the televisions, images of the 23 other people who would end up trying to rip his throat out, but I don't watch, I don't want to see his face powered, his eyes empty because they would be. I knew he would be telling himself that he could do it. That he would come home for his family- and I could see where the hope came from because last games it was one of us to come home… but he wasn't like Leon, Jay was different Jay wasn't strong. Jay was weak and Jay would die and I would hurt.

Then my television is blaring and my screen is thrown into darkness only to be adjusted to look like we are looking though some sort of green film. The images of tributes flash before me and thats when I realise that the whole arena is darkness, that there was no light and my heart begins to race because that was going to be a bitch to fight in.

The cameras flash past and man which I recognise to be jay and I lean forward in my chair, my mind forming images of his round worried yes as he saw my reaction to his kiss, eyes which were blazing with anger as I told him what a jerk he was when I first meet him. I remembered them like they were seared into the back of my eyelids, I remember them like they were my own.

A gong sounds bringing me out of my thoughts and I watch a mass of bodies surge forwards and I can barely tell who is who. I listen to the screams and I watch as people desperately pick up weapons, anything from the ground, there fingers searching frantically, hoping that no tribute was behind them poised ready to take there life. I searched for Jay, I looked desperately for him but I couldn't see him, the camera’s showing me images of blood as tributes slams there weapons into the flesh of another. I flinch each time until I am no able to watch any longer, my fingers fumbling with the remote as I fight to turn it off.

Once its off the room is filled with silence, the only thing to be heard is the pounding of my heart and breathes which seemed to eat the silence up as i fought to calm down. He would be okay. I know I had said he was weak, but somewhere deep inside of me I had to tell myself that he would be okay, that he wouldn't be tank down so easily, after all he had surveyed my harsh words and he was brave. He would be ok. He had to be ok. Our friendship had to mean something to him. He would fight. He would fight and he would fight to live. he had to try.

***

That night my sleep is restless. I toss and turn because I don't know- I don't know he if he is alive, if my friend is breathing or if he is laying in a pool of his own blood. I should have watched, I should have waited to see him make it out but I couldn’t. Any other gams I would have watched with a steady game, arms filed neatly in my lap. But this was different I knew the boy who fought for his life, he was a friend- though I wouldn't admit that to him.


***

Day 2 of the games.

Day 2.

Day 2 is when it happens.

I had watched as the light around him died, as the light around everyone died and they continued to fight, there weapons hitting the people they were trying to protect. I watched as weapon upon weapon pounded into his pale skin each time I flinch and then… and then he is hit for the last time- Jim Deer hitting the boy for the last time. I watch as his weapon falls from his grasp, I watch as his body, is thin lean body falls to the ground.

My heart tightens in my chest and I feel the back of my throat burn but tears don't fall. They never did, I haven't cried since I was a child, I promised myself that I would never shed a tear for anyone ever again, even know as I watch my friend panting on the ground, his breathes slowly becoming nothing.

I watch as he hals his broken body over to a wall, his shaking fingers writing names with his own blood. I watch as all these names appear and I freeze when I see my own. My heart almost stops, my hands clasping the edge of my chair so hard that my fingers begun to ache. I watched as the letters appeared and listened as words, words just for me fell from his cracked lips.

“I..I always loved you. I know you never loved me. I understood. I always did though. You were the start of my catching up in life. One of my reasons to live. I was living during the first part that we met because of you. Thank you.”

I always loved you.

I always loved you.

I always loved you.

He loved me?

My fingers release there tight grasp upon my chair and I slide back my back pressed back against the back of the chair. The burning the back of my throat progresses to my eyes and this time I cannot hold back the tears that begin to slide down my cheeks. He loved me and I had totally left him in the dark when he stepped forward. I hadn't gone to see him before he left, I had left without word. Had it hurt when he had not seen my face appear? Had be waited for me? Had I hurt him when I never showed up, when I never got to say goodbye…?

Thank you.

My hands clasp my face tightly, my tears sliding through my fingers as quiet sobs rack though my body.

He shouldn't be thanking me. He should hate me. He should despise me. He called me a friend, someone he loved and I had just let him walk away from home with nothing, not even a nod goodbye. I didn't deserve his love, even if the feelings weren't mutual…

Day 2. Day 2 of the 68th hunger games was the day I learnt what it really meant to lose someone who you cared about.

Jay Krearns why? Why did you come running into my life, demanding for me to get to know you, only to leave sitting in darkness, tears sliding down my face?


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