One Step Closer To The Edge [one-shot]

I'm nothing more than a failure.

I proved that last game when I watched Carrita fall on day one, and then when I watched Iain fall on day six. It was hard because they were both so young, and it came only a year after I escaped the pits of hell President Snow put me in, and I had to remain strong for Kirito because Iain was his family. Sometimes I blame it on my drinking because I drank too much. I wasn't there for them on the train when they journeyed to the Capitol. I threw them away like they were nothing as I wasn't sure how to teach them. What could I say to them? How could I make it better? How could I sugar coat the fact that they were going to die? I couldn't do that to them. It was wrong. Carrita and Iain were two humans who didn't deserve to die in the games. Those who died in the game didn't deserve it. Nobody did, yet here I am a victor of the games. I killed people. I hurt families. I ruined the lives of many because I won and their loved ones didn't. But I survived because I wanted to see Navya again. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to let her know how much I love her. And that kept me going.

This year wasn't any different. Weaver was reaped for the games.

I watched him journey through the Capitol. His training score wasn't impressive, but I didn't question him. I didn't ask what he did because I didn't need to. Weaver was smart, and he knew what he was capable of; I had only hoped he could do that during the games. The bloodbath was terrible because Iona was being targeted right away, and I didn't know if she would survive, yet she managed to make it out along with Weaver. I had to keep them safe. I had to do something because i couldn't just let them die in the games. I couldn't do anything about it, but I knew I could ask for help. I could beg for sponsors, anything to save them. But it was hard. Nobody wanted to help them. District eleven didn't deserve to win again, and they made it obvious by refusing my help. And it hurt more than I ever imagined. More than I thought possible.

Day one of the games, they managed to survive, and it made me happy, but I couldn't sleep. I stayed awake staring at the screen praying for a miracle because I wanted both of my tributes to survive. I wanted them to live longer. I wanted to see Weaver return home from the games, and if he didn't make it I wanted Iona to come home. I wanted to do something right to make up for the mistakes I made with Carrita and Iain. But I couldn't do much. I couldn't change anything. The darkness of the arena reminded me so much of the arena Crusader was in, and I wanted to cry, but I had to be strong because nobody would appreciate a drunken victor. I learned the hard way, and I put down the booze when Navya told me she was pregnant. It was still so hard to believe I was going to be a father. But how could I be a good father when I couldn't save the tributes?

Day two wasn't the best of days. I watched as tributes fought mutts in the games, and I was grateful Weaver and Iona were still doing alright, yet when he lost his fingers, I knew he wasn't in the best of shape. It was then I went out and begged for more sponsors. I had to help them. I had to because I couldn't leave them to die alone in the middle of the games. It was only day two. Just day two, and it was a terrible fate. But they managed to survive. And I watched as they ran, and finally someone cared enough to offer help, and I sent it in the best I could.

But the morning of day three, I knew something was wrong. I could feel it inside me. I had this feeling I couldn't get away from. I was sick to my stomach, and my heart ached. But I pushed it all away and stared at the screen in the district eleven lounge, and that was when it turned bad. Weaver and Iona were separated from their alliance, and I watched as a bunch of other tributes gathered around them. They fought as much as they could, and Weaver was using what I had given him. They cut into his skin, and I watched as my tributes tried to take them all on. I know what it felt like being outnumbered, but I managed to stay alive, and I only hoped that they could to. It all happened so fast, and I felt my entire body tense as I jumped into the air the moment the arrow pierced Iona's neck.

I was about to scream when I heard more cannons sound and I turned towards the screen once more, and I watched as Weaver turned around, and then the district five girl wounded him enough to drop him to his knees. I screamed for him to stand. I screamed for him to get up and run as they all ran from him. I begged and begged and begged but he wasn't moving. I saw the terrible amount of blood pouring from the wounds. I saw it leaking from the corner of his mouth, and I knew what was going to happen. I knew he wasn't going to survive. But I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't. No. He shouldn't be standing in the arena. He shouldn't be fighting. If I had only died maybe my family would've been safe, but I was wrong. So very wrong.

I watched as he carried Iona away before collapsing onto the ground. I watched as Bailey met them. Her tears became my own as I dropped to my knees before screaming as loud as I could.

And then his cannon sound.

I stared at the screen sobbing violently begging for this all to be a terrible nightmare, but I knew it all so well. The sound of the cannon. Everything. I remember when I heard their cannons. Annora. Kitty. Beretta. Chloe. Daria. Septys. Heather. Someith. For all the tributes of the games I was in I can hear their cannons blaring through my mind over and over, and nothing was making it go away.

Then the phone rang.

I picked it up unsure of what to do, and I heard the voice on the other line. It was the only voice I wanted to hear in that moment, and it was Navya telling me I had a daughter. I became a father and I wasn't home to witness the birth. I wasn't there to hold her. I wasn't there for any of it. I had just watched my brother die, and now I was a father. I didn't know if I could be a father because I failed my brother. I failed Iona. I failed Iain. I failed Carrita. I've let so many people down, and I was afraid I'd let down those I loved and cared about back home. And I didn't want to do that.

Then someone knocked on the door forcing me into Kate's show thing they wanted to do for her. I didn't want to, but I was told if I refused the consequences was drastic. So I did because I wanted to protect my family. I wanted to keep them safe because I couldn't put my wife and daughter and brothers in harms way.

It was a terrible part.

I hated it.

But here I am on day seven of the games. I don't care about them anymore because those I cared about are gone. My hands ball into fist as I force myself to stare at the screen. Why do they get to live? Why did I get to live? Many questions race through my mind. Loud pitch screams bellow from my lips as I pound my hands into the table over and over again. I could've done things different. I could've saved them. I could've gave them more. I tried my hardest, but it isn't enough, and now I have to try harder. I have to prepare them for when President Snow strikes again. I have to make sure my family, the Miristioma family is ready to go when their names are called because Weaver isn't the last.

Snow went too far. He's trying to ruin my life, and I'm not about to allow it. I can't allow it because I will do better than him, and I'll teach him a lesson.

I smash the cup against the table before pushing myself into the standing position. Today is a new day. It's a day that I will make sure district eleven is prepared for the horrors of the games. I don't have the weapons back home, but I can make use of branches from trees. I can teach them how to fight. I can prepare them. I march from the district eleven floor, I head into the elevator with only one thought in mind. Make him pay. He forced me into the games. He took away my freedom. He's made me a pawn in a horrible game of chess, and it's time I strike back. I will not be a pawn anymore. I will not be something he uses as a puppet. I will show him that he doesn't own me.

The elevator stops, and I exit into the training center. In order to succeed, I have to go back to square one. I'm putting myself into the shoes of a tribute, and I will learn everything possible. I pick up a sword, and I start swinging at a dummy severing its limbs and then severing its head. I will make sure my family and friends are protected, and this is the only way to do it.