Author Games: The Last Cannon

TASK EIGHT: Ren Pelagia [9]

Dear Ren,

I brought this upon myself.

Nobody ever doubted that you were going to volunteer for the Games. Anyone who had seen you train, seen the way you used that trident and net like they were just extensions of your arms, knew that you would grow up to be a tribute. I knew you was born for this. I'd known it since we were eleven and you told me that you wanted to start training. You'd asked me to go too and I had.

It wasn't because I believed in the Games. I never have and after this, I never will. Even when I was eleven, I knew that I couldn't stomach the violence that stemmed from our District's greatest source of honor. I'd never dreamed of being a tribute but I'd trained like one of those young Career hopefuls. It wasn't because I believed in murder; it was because you had asked me to do it.

I brought this heartache on myself by falling in love with someone like you. I knew what you were going to choose when they announced the Quell. I could see it in your eyes, that determination, that stubborn recklessness. I knew that you wanted a challenge and one had been presented to you. You were never going to choose me over the Games but I had always hoped otherwise.

Other people are worried about the odds, about the bets that they've placed and the deals that they've made. I am worried about the fact that you've dropped below Naerissa in these homemade odds brackets. I know you can beat her. I know you can beat all of them. I'm still rooting for you. You and I both know that you can win if you try. Or rather, we both know that you can't afford not to.

I'm no fan of the Games but I can't help but be proud of you. I know that you aren't happy with yourself, I can see it in the way that you act. You think you're doing it all wrong, right? This wasn't how you planned it? Maybe I haven't studied the Games the way you have but I know that you're nothing to look down on. An eleven in training? Surviving a Career alliance? Making it to the top 10?

Ren, you've accomplished so much.

Maybe I'm just biased. What else am I supposed to say to you? That you've done an awful job? That you're a failure? That you've disappointed me? I know you probably want to hear that, you want someone to validate the fear you have that you'll disappoint everyone, but I can't lie to you. I don't think you're a disappointment. Isn't that what you really want to hear?

Deep down, you know you've already made us so proud.

Did you know that you were going to volunteer before the Reaping? You could've told me instead of leaving me wondering. I figured you would, I know you well enough for that, but you could've told me. There's so much we needed to talk about but now you're gone and I'm alone, talking to myself. Calder thinks I'm losing my mind and maybe I am. He thinks I'm worried about you and he's right but he doesn't understand.

The last time you kissed me, did you do it knowing that you were leaving me? I keep thinking about it. It's selfish of me, I know, to think about that day when you're in danger. I keep telling myself that I need something pleasant to hold on to. I need something to keep me going. Memories and some twisted hope that when you come back to me, it won't be in a casket. That's all I have to keep me going.

And so I'm stuck in the past instead of focused on the present. My mind is consumed with the idea of preserving the happiness I felt before you left. I'm trying to keep myself from feeling the panic that's set in now that you've made it to the final seven. It's denial, really, I'm drowning in denial. I've detached myself from the reality that you could die at any time and retreated into my memories of you.

There must be thousands of them, all tucked away inside my mind. Little files full of memories with your name written all over them. You're gone but these little pieces of you are still here. It comforts me but it drives me crazy at the same time. God, if this is what love is like, I picked an awful person to be infatuated with. Thousands of good memories and it's a possibility that they'll be all I have of you in a few days. What then?

I've spent the last two years loving you, Ren. I have all these memories of your hands in my hair and your lips on my lips and the way our bodies just seemed to fit together, and then in a few days I might have to give that up. What then? Am I doomed to just relive this love until it fades away with the color of your eyes and the way you snorted when you laughed? I'll be one half of a whole; how am I supposed to deal with that?

They want me to prepare a eulogy for you. Just in case, they said, just in case you don't make it. How am I supposed to do that? I'd sooner write my own eulogy than yours. At least I could be cruel if I were writing mine. "We knew Ruby was dead when she finally stopped talking. Gee, I never thought I'd live to see the day where she shut her mouth. We all know she didn't." I can't pull that shit with you.

All I have so far is some bullshit about how your friendship mattered more to me than anything in the world and that if you were going to die, I'm glad you did it bringing pride to District Four. Your premature eulogy is built upon white lies and omissions. I don't want to know that you died as my best friend. I've always imagined more than that for the two of us. You mean more than that to me.

Your real eulogy would probably be something much more bittersweet. I would be a mess, there would be tears all down my cheeks and makeup pooling underneath my eyes. It would be one of those goodbyes that you can never finish because you're crying too hard to say the words. I said one of those after you left but by then it was too late to take back what I'd said in the Justice Building. I'll always regret that.

"Ren Pelagia," I would start the eulogy I want to write and tears would fill my eyes, "was a better kisser than any boy I've ever met." At this point I would try to force an apology but we both know it would never come out. I'm not sorry for any of it and I hope you aren't either. That would hurt a thousand times more than anything that we said to each-other in the Justice Building.

"Ren was also a better person than anyone I've ever met. I've never been as good at giving compliments as I am at receiving them but I'll try for her. It's not hard because I really did admire her. More than admire her, actually. I loved Ren. I still do and I always will. I didn't just lose my best friend, I lost the first person I've ever chosen to love. And that hurts."

Is that a good start?

"Ren tried not to stand out in the crowd but she was easy to notice. I've known her since we were children, when I met her she was all skinned knees and missing teeth, and I could just tell that she was going to be a fighter when she grew up. She was a natural. Anyone who watched her train, anyone who watched her in the Games, could see how talented she was. But I never wanted her to go. Even when I knew she was ready, when she was strength and confidence instead of skinned knees and missing teeth. I didn't want to lose her but now that I have, I'm glad that I got to love her."

I'm crying now, I hope you're happy. I'll be crying even more in a few days, whether the outcome is funeral or Victor celebration. I'm angry Ren, I'm furious with you. But I love you too much to worry about that. I love you too much to hate you when I may never see you again. Hopefully this letter, one you'll never read, won't have to be our goodbye.

I'll see you soon, Ren.

Love,

Ruby