The Trials of Neo City [WINWIN • YUTA]

🖤 25. A Sadness Runs Through Him 🖤

‼️ HEAVY CONTENT WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER, READ THE TAGS PLEASE ‼️

Mark had been thinking about himself for a while. About his life and about who he was.

His name was Mark Lee. He was fifteen years old and he liked watermelons. He lived with his mother, his father, and his older brother in District Three.

And due to the District's very analytical culture, he was sort of an outcast for being religious. And yeah, he was fine with that. Sometimes, though, he wished he never had any sort faith to begin with.

Because believing in an afterlife made things like this much harder to do without thinking of its consequences.

"I'm going out. The Careers are out and probably won't be back until nightfall and we need food." Sicheng snapped Mark out of his thoughts, the younger boy thinking too hard and picking nervously at the sleeve of his jacket.

Sicheng frowned. "Mark, did you hear me? I said don't leave, okay. I'll be back in a few hours."

"I promise." Mark nodded, smiling weakly at the older boy. Really, he meant it. Technically, he wasn't going anywhere. He was going to stay right here, he wouldn't leave his spot by the tree.

It was too much.

He couldn't do this anymore.

What was the point? He would die anyways.

He waited long enough and made sure that Sicheng was gone and wouldn't come back before he took off his shoes and his jacket.

Mark laid his shoes and his backpack nicely against the wall. The sunlight hit his face and the warmth reminded him of home, the sunny and warm hills of District Three that he so rarely enjoyed.

Mark mumbled something to the air, knowing there was a camera inevitability watching his every move. He warned the cameras loud enough for the whole floor to hear, loud enough for his family to look away.

He took a shaky breath and whispered to nobody im particular that he was sorry, really sorry. He didn't want to do this, but he couldn't go on in this sick, sick game. He just couldn't take the pressure, couldn't take the hunger, couldn't take the cannons or the nightmares.

Mark took off his own jacket, situating it around the sturdiest branch he could find. He tied a messy knot and tugged on it for good measure, smiling to himself when it didn't unravel and tightened with weight.

He mumbled another prayer to the heavens above, prayed that they'd accept him after the act he would soon commit.

He hoped the heavens would forgive him.

He hoped Sicheng would, too.

• • 🖤 • •

"Mark, I found food! Someone left rations behind, some kind of dried fruit. Hey... Mark?" Sicheng asked, peeking into the building. There'd been a cannon about an hour ago, but the Careers still weren't back yet, so Mark would be fine.

The building was quiet and Sicheng feared the worst. Had one of the Careers stayed behind and already found him? He hadn't been gone for more than a few hours and the others were terrorizing someone else on the other side of the city. So why was the building so silent?

"Mark! I finally found us some food, you should-"

Sicheng froze in horror as he inched forwards into the large room, staring at the tree that he'd become so familiar with. He'd expected to find Mark but, not like this.

Not Mark's body, limp and hanging from the old, crooked tree above him. Suspended up by the sleeve of his own jacket wrapped around his neck, his cold eyes staring forwards and towards the dusty, cracked floor.

Sicheng knew Mark wouldn't last long.