Hazy Flames [Grim]

221A3D ~ Lyrics
262752 ~ Others
3B425E ~ Thoughts
47596B ~ Speech
65706E ~ Narration

It’s been a full year since Jay died. I still remember when we broke up, and the last thing that he said to me was,

“I’ll always be here for you if you need me. You know exactly where to find me.”

“Yeah I do, six feet deep in the ground next to Mason, and your other brother Davy. I still can’t believe you Jay.” I looked at the headstone, the stone that does his life no justice at all Jay Kearns Male Tribute of the 68th Hunger Games A loved Brother and friend. Mason’s says almost the same exact thing, the only difference being 6 Games earlier, the 62nd. It was something I haven’t gotten used to yet, seeing the headstone of my first love. I trace the somewhat curved font with my fingers, remembering the phantom kiss he gave me when we first met. He kissed my forehead, trying to see how high my fever was. The sun was setting reflecting the salt of the harsh seas like diamonds flying up to be received by the dark grey wool’s embrace. Apparently he deemed it high enough to get me into his bed.

I still remember that first night, when we held each other and talked about each other. The light of his lamp danced across the sharp line of his jaw, sailed across his cheeks as the sadness in his eyes brought the salty water to film them over. Those were good days. I was still not feeling well, however it was nothing of major concern, just a fever that every forehead kiss made hotter due to the blushing me.

“I miss you Jay, why did you have to volunteer? What were you trying to prove? Why didn’t you just talk to me?!” My voices trembles as anger and confusion become lovers with pain and sadness. I will never get the answers to these questions and maybe it is better that I do not. I may be too afraid to face what was going on in his head.

Maybe I do not want to hear that he wanted to die in those caves, to follow his brothers into the Eternal.

I am too afraid to go to his cousins to get answers; yet I’m not sure if he had a relationship with them, we didn’t talk much after we broke up. I could have invited him to my house, we could have had some few drinks and laughed like we used to. But I guess it’s time to move on, knowing that he’ll always leave a space in my heart that can never be filled the same. I look at the words that can never to the man justice, yet even though they try. It’s just another dark gray embrace for Jay as the brooding, ominous words bring out what the Capitol will only see him as,

Another tribute.

I leave as the old wrought iron gate creaks behind me bidding me farewell as he knows that he’ll greet me tomorrow. Every day I come by to see Jay again, It has been almost 365 days that I have been welcomed in by the gate that holds the past. Walking among those who no longer speak, their history either long gone, or remain in the solitary comforts of the living’s mind. The sun is painting the sky with hues of rich pinks and violets as it is chased by the indigo evening. The oceans laps up the cooling grain of sand as the diamonds start to retreat into the depths. To join the long buried boats and submarines of old in their eternal slumber. Only the diamonds will return in the morning. They always do, unlike the boats.

I walk down the gravel path away from the graves and old memories with my hands buried into the pocket of my hoodie. My hoodie lingers over my head, creating shadows for my eyes to hide behind. The beach already has people setting up for bonfires tonight, as they collect the driest pieces of lumber they can find. Old deserted shacks that have long been abandoned byt heir owners and occupants. Sometimes squatters like to claim them, and we leave the ones with possessions in them alone for the most part. But wood is wood, and we don’t that much from District Seven to have excess for the almost nightly bonfires that we have the privilege of enjoying.

I dig my feet into the soft, grainy sand, cooled by the tufts as grass that pops up here and there. I watch the sky as it transitions into the deep indigos and light blacks of the evening. The bonfires start to light up as the gasoline is poured over the various piles of wood along the beach. The fires are surrounded by trenches to keep the water at bay, and to ensure no drunken idiot decides to fall in. The warmth radiates through the still air, still I wear the hoodie, just in case the breeze turns against our favor.

The night was getting into full swing when I started to have slurred flashbacks to the first night. I actually was only about 1 mile or so down the coast where we first met. The windy and stormy day ended up being a good one. The complete opposite of the day he died. When I passed out the doctor said that it was due to shock. It’s been a year now and nothing serious has come out of it, but I can’t seem to get passed the lingering memories..

I need a distraction.

I see this beautiful young girl with dirty yellow hair and soft grey eyes, and decide that she’ll be emotionally distracting for me. With the brown bottle in hand, which wasn’t my first one, I saunter over to her and forwardly introduce myself.

“Hello there, my name is Curse, Curse Jinx. And yes my parents had no imagination when naming me. What’s yours?”