a grief that can't be spoken (Jade, Day 8)
Aug 7, 2020 23:15:44 GMT -5
Post by D1f Jade Morin - Alyssaimagine on Aug 7, 2020 23:15:44 GMT -5
I walk a lonely roadThe only one that I have ever knownDon't know where it goesBut it's only me, and I walk alone
With her feet placed firmly on the ground, her next hit was a success. The boy from Three slumped to the ground at her feet and for a moment it felt as if the world stood still as she was slowly realizing that she had taken another life. He wasn't innocent anymore, because none of them who have made it this far were innocent. All of those without blood on their hands had died early on and if they had survived as long, then they would have been murderers too. None of them were innocent anymore, but she figured he might have been at one point. She wondered who he was before he entered the arena. She wondered how the arena had changed him. Was it as drastic a change as Arabella's had been? She wouldn't be surprised if it was, and somehow that made her feel sick to her stomach. They were forced to change.
Jade placed the boy's body flat on the ground. She took the sword from his hands, thankful to have a decent weapon back. For now on, she would be even stronger. She picked up his messenger bag and took from it what she felt was needed and stuffed them inside her own backpack, then she went back to the boy. She placed his hands over his body, just as she had with Arabella, just as she had awaken in the Catacombs. It was a sign of respect, in her own mind, and perhaps due to the guilt that she would forever feel. She yearned to know more about the boy she killed, even if it only hurt her more. She wanted to make sure the world remembered him. She wanted to make sure the world remembered them all.
"I'm sorry I don't have any flowers to give you," she said, her voice was soft. "I hope you find peace."
None of them deserved it, perhaps. None of the living, because they'd earned their lives with blood, but she wanted him to experience it, to know it, and she wanted him to be brought into a world with no Hunger Games and only happiness. She wished that of Arabella too, though the memory of her stung so deeply that she flinched when the girl's image entered her mind. Tears pricked at her eyes when she remembered the blade in Arabella's heart, but she wouldn't let them fall. She was going to be stronger for her, and keep her promise, because for the moment, that's the only thing that mattered anymore. It was the only thing keeping her going, and if she were able to think about it, perhaps she would thank the girl.
Without Arabella, she would be broken. Jade grabbed her bag filled with new items and found a distant spot at the beach, far from where the battle took place, but it still wasn't enough. She could still see him there, laying out next to the water and letting the red waves wash over his body. Her throat felt closed up, and she held back the sob that was trying to force its way from her throat. She wouldn't let it: she wouldn't allow herself to break again. Instead, with shaky hands, she sat down near the waves and sorted through the bag. She poured the alcohol on her wounds, and winced as the pain hit her. She discovered that she no longer disliked the pain. After all, she deserved it and it made her feel...something.
Pushing the thought aside, she rummaged around until she found the needle and thread. Now she had more than one, thanks to the boy from Three. Her needlework was far from good, and she could imagine someone from the Capitol or a practiced needleworker grimacing at her work, but she had no one here with experience. She felt it was at least a little bit better than her first attempt. She frowned when she realized she had no plants, and this place was far from those plants.
"Hey, Pisces, you have any plants?" Jade blinked for a moment when she was met with nothing but silence.
Jade had almost forgotten she was alone now. No one would help her any longer, and while she knew that perhaps it was well deserved, she couldn't help but feel the despair deep in her belly. She had liked having her alliance around, but now she would never see them again, unless they met as enemies. The now familiar sting in her eyes was back, and she found herself shuffling around the messenger bag until she found the dragon plushie and pressed it against her chest. It reminded her of them, of her alliance, of being in a team...of being surrounded by friends? Was that what they were? They had relied on each other.
Title from the song Empty Chairs at Empty Tables from Les Miserables
Table made by Kiah!
Table made by Kiah!