Author Games: The Last Cannon

TASK NINE: Mia Circuit

They play in the street, side by side. The ball they kick goes back and forth to each other, and for only seven and five they get along really well. Some days are worse than others; the sweating, the screaming... the nightmares. I sometimes find myself washing my hands repeatedly, trying to scrub away the blood that no longer exists but remains stained in my mind.

My children are no longer innocent; Lucy watched my past on live television and they've already begun to teach Castiel of the Hunger Games in school. They're already beginning to tell him of his chances of survival at only five years old, and I know it confuses him because of our big house and full stomachs. The only visible scar I have from the Games is the pink one on my ankle where they put in metal pins to straighten it out, but I don't walk the same way I used to.

The other Victors in the village watch out for my family and we watch out for them. It's a nice community we have and all of us have formed a bond but then again, there are only two other Victors in our small little block of the District. After five years Packard has finally begun to settle back into a routine of proper work at the factory. Shortly after I won the Games we found out I was pregnant, and there was a possibility I had been in the arena. It didn't come as a shock to me, but suddenly the feeling of paranoia and worry was there in the pit of my stomach: was my baby okay? Was he harmed?

I was finally the mother I knew I could be.

But then came the haunting memories of my recent past, and the doubts and fears that came along with it. I killed to get home, and that will always stay with me as long as I live. It's Cosmo's blood I will never be able to get off of my hands or the feeling I felt when I took away her life.

"So this is it, death by my own poison." Cosmo can't stop fidgeting, her hands claw at the dirt and her back arches up into the air like a bridge. A long, blue spider-like vein crawls slowly down her neck where I had inserted the poison, making its way to her heart. I just stand there, watching as she tries to scream but can't find her voice. I don't cry; I'm already too far gone to even care. I lean in close and take her hand so she can finally clutch onto something as she walks into the light. With one final moment, Cosmo finds the strength to utter her last words:

"Save me the last dance."

The noise of the final cannon shook my body that day, almost knocking me to the ground. It had been so easy to kill her, as if she had been placed there on purpose. She was just... standing in the river, completely naked and unarmed. My mind made the decision to grab the poison dart on the log before I could even blink. If I'm being honest I do regret killing her. No Tribute, no matter how violent or vicious, deserves to perish in a way like she did.

Throughout all of the misery I find a way to be my best self. When it rains I take my children outside and we dance in the puddles, splashing the water around until our bodies are drenched in the wet. I make a habit to walk through the graveyards of the fallen Tributes of Three, paying my respects to each and every one of them. Lucy comes with me so she can hold my hand and keep me standing straight in a world where everything is upside down. My name could have been written on one of the tombstones, a faceless name in a quiet place, but I didn't go down that path. Forty-seven other souls did, but I did not.

Packard often has to remind me that while people make poor decisions, we are ultimately the ones that decide our own fate. This didn't make sense to me five years ago, but now I'm finally starting to see the light. For each time that I wake up screaming in the night, Packard holds me close and whispers that I'm alive, I'm well, and I'm home. When I close my eyes, my mind is a blank canvas but soon, the images are painted red with blood and black with death; I'm in the arena again.

"What's your greatest fear?" Castiel asks me, his chest rising up and down heavily, a trickle of blood pouring down the side of his mouth. I frantically tear open his shirt with my knife, analyzing the damage Samus had done with his spear shortly before tripping over the edge of a cliff and falling to his death. I can't think, not like this. I take off my jacket and press it against his chest, he leans back and screams.

"Mine is not being remembered," he answers his own question. "Can you do that for me, Mia? Will you remember me when everyone else forgets?"

Beads of sweat are dripping down his face and his eyes are struggling to stay open. I push my lips against his forehead and rest them there until I can feel his body relax against the forest floor.

"I'll go easy, don't worry, Mia. Casimir is waiting for me; the hole in my chest will be filled once more."

His eyes finally close and his last breath escapes his lips.

"I promise; you won't be forgotten."

My son is a spitting image of my sister but his heart is equal to that of his name sake. He'll bring in birds with broken wings and insist we fix them; just as Castiel did to my ankle. He won't be forgotten; not in this family.

One day, the pain will be nothing more than a memory and the blood will finally leave my mind and I'll be clean. But now, I'm taking it step by step. Lucy and Castiel jump on our bed every morning to wake us up and their happy smiles fill my heart with warmth and joy. Packard loves me, and I love him; we're certain of it.

I'm safe and sound, right here, right now.