Black and White

Chapter 10

This world is bringing many more questions than I am prepared to face, and, quite frankly, I'm over it. My thoughts used to be an escape from whatever might be going on in the moment, but now my head is occupied with the need for answers. Something always has to be going on, something always has to be wrong in this place.

I cannot seem to find peace in sitting still, so I get up and stretch. The bodies are there, about five feet away, seemingly glowing in the midnight darkness. I kneel next to the body of the boy.

I study him, for a long time, taking in the slight dimples in his cheeks and the pimples on his forehead. He couldn't have been more than sixteen, still but a young teen.

The cougar stirs, coming to stand by my side. Gently, I take two fingers and close his eyes. So young, so young, so young to die like many good people are. His eyes inhabit the shadowy corners of my mind even after they are closed, joining the blue-haired girl and Diedre's.

Both him and Diedre had been so young, neither innocent I'm sure, as no one truly is, but young and stupid, and by God they should've been allowed to be that stupid. Everyone in this arena, dead or otherwise, should've been allowed to be stupid, to laugh, to cry, to scream and shout their words into the empty air.

Every one of us has lives, most have someone to miss them, and near every single one of us will have someone notice we're missing. I wonder if the police are still searching for the lost teens. I wonder if it will end up as a cold case, another unsolved folklore mystery. I wonder if we'll get our own documentary. I wonder, I wonder, I wonder.

Anything is too much. Tears fall down my face and onto the boy's shirt. The wind howls, biting into my eyes and sending my tears flying off of my face. His skin collects what the wind does not, mixing with the dried on blood. My hands long to reach out to him, to give him something as closure, to send him over to the afterlife happily.

They deserve a proper burial, just one more thing on the twenty thousand page list of what I can't give to them. I can try, I can try my best. I turn and dig my face into the cougar's neck, hugging the animal close. It nuzzles me, the small comfort drying my tears and making my breathing even.

Standing, I grab the boy under the shoulders and drag him away, into the tall grass. His body is heavy, much too hard to drag through the thick underbrush. None of the trees look even halfway suitable, the light filtering through the leaves dark, dingy, and depressing.

I lie him under a tree with light purple leaves spread over wide arching branches. Then, I grab some flowers and tuck them into his tightly closed fist. I bend his arms over his chest, covering the knife wound on his neck.

Then, tears dripping down my cheeks, I stumble my way back to Diedre's body. Her body is lighter than the boy's and it moves much easier. I lay her next to him, grabbing more flowers and wrapping her loose hands around them. I sit there for a moment, whispering a few words, hoping only for a moment that wherever they may be they're resting easy.

Then I walk away, back to the river, far away from the ghosts of my mistakes.

The cougar stays by my side the entire time, it's eyes staring into mine with a glaring intensity. Even though I have put my ghosts to rest, I can't seem to calm myself. The eyes of the fallen follow me throughout the walk back.

My stomach churns every time I find my mind wandering back to the dead. I dig my nails into my hands and my teeth clamping down on my tongue in an attempt to distract myself in some way. The pain sends a rush of emptiness, a sweet hollow ache, into my mind.

It doesn't last.

I could've killed the boy before the Games were started, I could've saved Diedre. I could've let the boy live. I could've, I should've, I would've. I could do this, I should do this.