Forgotten {Rolf one-shot}

(“Chaske Parks!”)

His name rings through my ears over and over. Prancing through my thoughts haunting my every waking second. Life hasn’t been the same since he left. Since the escort called his name. But I wasn’t there to say goodbye. I couldn’t bring myself to stare into his eyes, and now he’s gone. Trapped in an abyss in the afterlife. His soul scattered through the depths of the dirt underground. His body decays six feet under. I wasn’t even there to welcome his lifeless body. How could I? How could I look at him for the last time and beg for forgiveness?

I don’t deserve it. Not after the way I treated him.

Twigs scurry across the ground as a fall breeze fills the air. Scanning the area, I watch as the sun slowly creeps over the horizon. Stars begin twinkling above me guiding me where the sun has failed. A bright and morning star hides for the night like a coward. Mom and dad swore that the dead become a star in the sky - I don’t believe them anymore. It has been a living hell since they died. My life fell apart. They were after me because I was loved more than anyone else. I couldn’t make them stop. All the begging and pleading only brought on worse punishment. Many nights I locked myself away in my room praying to God that He would save my family.

The prayer was answered in the worst way imaginable. Mom and dad died. Murdered in cold blood by one of my brothers. I’ll never forget Chaske standing at the door staring at their lifeless bodies. A pool of blood settled below them. Bury them was the hardest thing any child should ever have to do -

No, I take that back;

Burying a brother murdered in the games was the hardest thing ever. Pherick was standing around glaring at me. Hatred coursed through his veins.

Why do you hate me?

Crickets don’t chirp anymore. Birds don’t sing at the night sky now. It’s silent except for the sound of some wild beast lurking in the corner of the district awaiting the perfect chance to strike, but not even that could block out the sound of my broken heart pounding behind my chest. It rings through my ears louder than my footsteps. For the first time since his funeral, I’ve decided to visit him. To see him - Not that it matters anymore.

He’s dead, and nothing will bring him back.

Frozen in time, I stare at the entrance of the tribute cemetery. Fear courses through my veins devouring my soul like a three course meal. Hands tremble at my side. Nerves bounce through my stomachs. Butterflies flip through my intestines tying my insides into knots. A lump forms in the back of my throat. Each breath catches beneath it. My heart flutters softly before plummeting into the pits of my stomach. A single question floats through my mind over and over. One I don’t know the answer to. Why am I here?

To make amends? To beg for forgiveness? To ask for help?

None of them register. Not one of them make sense. Truthfully, I don’t know why I journeyed to the tribute cemetery today.

Secretly, I miss him.

Yet telling someone the truth is far from possible. To let the world know how much Chaske meant to me travels far from my mind.

Step after step, I walk towards the gate and greet it with an open hand. The hinges creak as the gate swings open. I’m staring face to face with the stones belonging to the dead tributes. Some of them are cracked and covered with weeds. It’s obvious the world forgets and moves on without them. It’s what the Capitol wants. To never mourn for the loved ones, and to live like nothing has never happened when in all reality so much has happened. Lives are changed.

My life changed.

Branches snap beneath my feet with each step I take, and it amazes me how many graves haven’t been taken care of over the years. One after another I look at the names. These people are important people forgotten by the rest of the world.

I stop in my tracks the moment I stare at his name etched into stone. Chaske Parks His own grave is overrun by weeds. Tall grass covers the entirety of the stone -

How long has it been?

One, no, two years?

- My heart sinks further into my stomach, and I can’t move. Throughout his entire life, I’ve neglected him, and even in death, I’ve neglected him. Forgot about him, yet he’s never left my mind. Not since his killer returned home alive. Not since she showed her face in the district. How am I supposed to forgive her? To show respect when I just want to kill her for killing him. To show her what it’s like to lose someone important. But I can’t.

No.

She’s heavily guarded everywhere she goes. Her name should be etched into this stone. Not his. Not Mystic’s. Her’s. Yet in all reality, I won’t live to see the day her name is etched into stone. She’s a hero, and Chaske and all the other’s are just a memory floating through the sky. Forgotten. A worthless memory that nobody cares about anymore. But I care. I care about him, and I can’t do a thing about it.

("He's gone, but he's a memory.
Memories of him and all the other
tributes in the arena with
me are things I will carry with me
to my grave.")

Her words echo through my mind over and over. Yet she has no idea what it’s like. His presence haunts my every waking second, and even when I close my eyes at night. She can swear she won’t forget him. She can say she cares. That she’s sorry, but her words won’t mean anything until her life is over.

Maybe then I can find happiness.