my grave will never be filled . trost

Sometimes people do crazy things.

Like Orion, my brother. He defied our family by declaring he would not become a career like the rest of us. Pa didn't take that too well. Orion was subject to constant ridicule and physical assaults that, frankly, none of us could do a damn thing about. He gave my father one sliver of hope - acting "normal" outside the home. His defiance was contained. Orion hated that but he knew Pa probably wouldn't kill him. The Capitol shows no such mercy.

I don't blame him. He was small, smaller than me, and he lacked confidence. That alone will get you chewed up and spit out by the careers. We don't talk anymore. Pa broke him entirely using him as a lesson for his younger brother. I was expected to watch, he was expected to silently take. I could shed no tears but his fueled my father's anger. He married a girl and doesn't say a word to me on the rare chance we see each other in public. I never say anything to him. What could I say? I'm not sorry. It wasn't my fault. I was only doing what I was told.

I take a deep breath and push myself off the ground with one hand. I need to head into the training center soon, otherwise the day's been wasted by pointless daydreaming. I'm near the entrance. I trace fingers along the rough bricks, feeling them snag at my callouses. The gravel beneath my feet makes a satisfying crunch. I brush some loose rocks and debris that stuck to my pants, frowning at the fine layer of grey dust left.

Then I hear it.

The sound of impact. Scuffling and gruff voices. A smaller voice pleading. I can't place exactly where the voice is coming from... Inside? No, too loud and too controlled. The alley way!

The dust on my ass already forgotten, I break into a jog towards the alley way. My mind is racing with thoughts but I can't put them together now, not when I haven't even assessed the situation.

There she is. There they are.

Young Cilla Rowe, the most recent district disappointment. I'd heard the other careers talking about her. How she was cool, a career like any of us, but now she's a pitiful coward. Too scared to go into the Games so she just lets somebody else volunteer for her. She's on her knees in the gravel. Her tears catch the blood trickling down the corner of her mouth and she looks so... Weak. Pitiful. Familiar?

The two careers look repulsed but there is a giddiness in their scratchy voices. They're enjoying this. I don't see the big deal. She let somebody else volunteer for her. What they don't seem to realize is the girl who volunteered looked angry, like she had something to prove. That's destiny and you don't interfere with that.

Why does this pitiful girl look so familiar?

"We should just kill you. The district would be better off for it!

I don't think they've noticed me yet. They seem absorbed in their own world. A weaker being taunted by the stronger, one of the basics of life.

Orion.

The girl doesn't look familiar. I mean, she does, but I already know of her.

What's happening is the familiar part.

One of the boys has her pulled up by her hair. He slams the girl into the brick, which minutes ago had torn into my thick callouses. The soft skin on your head couldn't stand a chance... I'm right. Her hair suddenly looks slick and I know it's blood.

"Stop, please."

Orion. He's on the floor. Pa is standing over him, I'm in the corner, and Ma is in the doorway. He's pleading with my dad. He knows it's futile. We all know it's futile.

I'm close to them now and the girl notices me.

"Help me-"

The boy has his hands on her throat now. Her eyes are pleading as she tries to escape... But it's futile. Don't we all know it?

The boys definitely know I'm here now. "If you know what's good for ya, you'll walk away."

Maybe it was better to walk away - watch - when I was a kid. Maybe it would be better to do that now. Surely the ruckus they've caused will have attracted attention from people with much higher authority than us.

But this isn't one of Pa's lessons and I'm an aspiring Peacekeeper. We're not in the arena and she has committed no crimes - this is a flagrant disregard of justice, of the tenants of society that glue us together so we may function. Would I say I feel bad for her? No. But vigilante justice has no place here.

Does that make me a hypocrite?

"Nah, I don't think so."

My fist connects with the boy holding Cilla's neck. His nose crunches and blood begins to pour. Not my fault he had turned to look at me, giving me such square aim. I think his grip has loosened on Cilla but I don't have time to make sure - the boy I punched will stop seeing stars soon and it looks like the other one has finally processed what's happening. "What the fuck?" and he's coming for me.

There's a thud as he drops me to the ground, gravel pushing into my back and a cloud of dirt puffing up around us. I taste blood - he's punched my mouth. I feel my face flush as I gather all my strength and push the career off me. His breath is unpleasant. I regain my footing and push the boy back, hard, away from the crumpled figure on the ground.

"Want some more?"

I guess sometimes I do crazy things.

Honestly, I'm impressed.

Before anybody can react, there she is. She's punching and tearing at her aggressor's eyes and he can only scream. I think I even hear him cry out for his mother. His friend is stepping back, nursing wounds I inflicted. I'm dripping in sweat and I think there's a cut on my brow. The pain of being thrown into the ground is starting to catch up to me but I can bear through it.

Both boys are retreating now. They leave a small trail of blood, a nasty surprise later for whoever cleans this place.  She's panting. 

"Th-" She can't get the words out. It probably hurts. I know my back is still aching, likely covered in fresh bruises. "Thank you." She slides to the ground. I'm thinking I should sit, all thoughts of training abandoned... For now. Besides, I can lift my shoddy weights at home and Pa won't even be suspicious - training is always acceptable and it's always the answer to a restless boy's woes. "You saved my life."

Did I?

She doesn't seem familiar anymore. Orion would never retaliate and I would never hear him say sorry... That not I deserve or want apologies. Thoughts of my brother are eliminated from my mind as I analyze the scene before me. We're in a precocious spot.

"You're welcome." I flex my shoulders and try to pop them. The pain radiates to my tailbone and I grit my teeth. "You know, we really shouldn't let our guard down. I don't know about you but my Pa wouldn't like me putting my life at risk for a girl tha-"

No. Without her tenacity, the boys would have taken me on. I could have given them a run for their money, probably even beaten them, but backup is always good.

She's no coward.

"That got jumped." I try to exaggerate my pain, letting out a soft groan, so my silence isn't - correctly - mistaken for contemplation. "We should move away from the scene of the crime. Maybe try to think of how to clean ourselves up?"

But I can't help slink down beside her, clutching my side. The pain is subsiding but not everywhere. I feel slightly energized, buzzing with success. I'm not going to laud her with praise, for her bravery in action in the face of evil or whatever you want to call it, but I do hope she sees that she has earned somebody's respect today.

Crius' Wilkerson's respect. It's not much but it's honest. I realize she likely has no clue who I am and while that's a travesty, it's understandable. I'll be a household name in some district one day, known for my loyalty and dedication during my tenure as Peacekeeper. "I'm Crius." My smile is pained. My throat aches for water but I didn't pack any.

Another travesty.