Writer Games | Masquerade of Martyrs & Family Ties

Task Eight: The Rebirth /F - Ashley Fission [2]

Ashley was cold.

All around him, the  garden continued to shrivel up and come to an end. The once luscious  green leaves had long turned brown, falling to the blackened floor and  leaving the branches to become brittle and break at the slightest touch.  Birdsong had once filled the arena with a cheerful tune, but now the  only noise was the whistling of a cold breeze that blew through the  dying trees and cast whispers into the night sky.

The young boy shivered  in the wind, his hands beginning to tremble and drop the knife they had  once held in their grasp. The cold of the ground beneath Ashley's knees  was beginning to seep through his clothes, accompanied by the crimson  lake that now covered the entire floor of the arena. He was certain that  too much innocent blood had been spilled since the very first gong but,  finally, it was over. No more children would die within the haunting  confines of this once beautiful paradise.

Slowly, Ashley pushed  the knife away from him. The blade glinted silver in the moonlight,  breaking through the barrier of blood that had congealed on it's sharp  blade. Smears covered it's handle, obscuring the fingerprints of those  who had all wielded the weapon alongside the hope of it being their  lifeline. That evening, all hope seemed to be gone.
With his deep  sigh simply floating away on the breeze, Ashley laid both of his hands  on the floor. His own heartbeat pounded in his ears, pumping pure  adrenaline all throughout his body that made him tremble. Even when he  forced his eyes shut, embracing the darkness that it brought, the image  of the scene in front of him was still burnt into his mind.
Death.

Ashley had never killed  anyone before. Back in District Thirteen, where the Games were nothing  more than a taunt rather than a reality, he could not have imagined how  difficult it could be. After all, it was just a simple flick of a knife  across another tribute's throat; it was barely any effort at all. Once  the metallic tinge of blood filled the air and burnt at the back of your  throat, the damage was already done and nothing could be repaired. You  simply waited, watching the life slowly drain from the person lying on  the ground in front of you. Their eyes would slowly drift shut, glazing  over in a dream-like state. Occasionally, a smile would appear on their  face as the pain began to fade away and their escape, death, finally  came to them.

Ashley would never have  an escape. No matter how much he longed for his own pain to disappear,  he knew that the raw ache in his heart would never fade away and he  would be forced to live with it until he could bear it no more. The  final kill of the Games - his first kill, and hopefully his last - had  finally taught him that the pain of death does not only come with  witnessing it, but also with inflicting it as well.

Dove Evans had done  nothing wrong. She was a child, broken and bruised just like the rest of  the tributes who had remained. She did not deserve the fate that  awaited her, but Ashley had inflicted it upon her without even a second  thought. He had tried to forget everything, but he was still aware of  the promise he had made his brother and Dove had stood in the way.

Now, Ashley regretted everything.

He knelt on the dirt  beneath him, bent over with his head nearly touching the floor. Tears  threatened to fall from his eyes, just like they had done for every  single minute since the very beginning of this torture. For once, he did  not allow them. He forced himself to be strong, fighting the sobs that  kept threatening to escape his mouth. He had no excuse this time; this  pain was all his fault.

Aries' death had been  nothing but a cruel act by the Game-Makers, easily explained away. The  pain of losing his twin brother - his best friend - was almost numbed by  the ability to glance at the sky and know that someone else was  responsible. If Ashley wanted to be angry about it, he knew exactly who  he should be shouting at. If he wanted to cry, he was aware who had made  him feel that way.

What about Dove's  family? She must have had a mother, father, maybe even siblings. As they  watched the same fate greet such a tiny, frail girl, Ashley knew  exactly who they would be blaming.

Him.

The same grief washed  over him for Dove as it had done for Aries. Another life had been lost,  another child fallen and forgotten in the grand history of the Games  that seemed like they would never stop. This time, if Ashley was angry  he could only scream and hurt himself. If he wanted to cry, he was not  granted that liberty because it was himself that had committed the act.

Death was like a circle,  consistent and never ending. Even if it's luxury was never given to  you, it would continue to consume you until it's cold grasp dragged you  into a dark abyss that was inescapable. Almost like a constantly  dripping tap, it would be stuck in the back of your mind forever,  waiting for a suitable moment to wash over you and break you down  completely.

Was this what Aries had  wanted? He had told Ashley to win, almost as if victory was an  expectation of his twin. He had convinced him to continue to fight when  all Ashley wanted to do was curl up in a ball and forget everything that  had ever happened.

Slowly, Ashley reached  out and picked the knife up from the dusty ground. He wiped the glinting  blade clean on his own shirt, watching his own warped reflection as he  moved the metal up and down. Once it was glistening once more, he dug it  as far as he could into the dirt beneath him; the ground did not bleed,  unlike flesh.

Ashley was smart enough  to know he could not blame anyone else for what he felt, but he was  desperate enough to try it. His mind ran over everyone it could, from  the Game-Makers who forced the tributes to fight to his own family who  had allowed the twins to enter the Games in the first place. No one  seemed to be the guilty one, until Ashley finally began to think of his  own brother.

Aries was dead - that was a fact.

However, death was  beginning to look more like an escape. Aries would never have to endure  pain again, or feel the wet trails of tears spilling down his cheeks. He  would never be hurt or broken, or forced to try and forget everything.
Even more, he had entered that painless world by his own accord.

He had left Ashley to  deal with everything. The two of them had always been inseparable, doing  everything they could together and facing the future with each other  close by. Even when something as big and as terrifying as the Games had  finally graced their presence, they were supposed to be side by side.  Within that tiny stone room where they had been locked together, they  could have both taken the poison. They could have both refused to die  until someone killed them both. They could have still been together.

Except, they were not. Aries had gone alone.

Ashley finally allowed  the tears spill down his cheeks and a shout to escape his lips. Dove's  cannon had not yet echoed across the darkening sky, but he knew that it  was far too late to correct his own mistake. For the first time in his  life, he would be enduring this sort of pain alone.

The pain of being a Victor could never be washed away.

He brought the knife out  of the dust once more, taking it by the handle and throwing it as far  away from him as possible. He wanted no reminded of what he had done,  even though he knew the nightmares would haunt him for the rest of his  life. He longed for an escape like every other tribute had been granted,  but Ashley would never be granted one. It was not his fault, but he  would be by himself until the end of his own time. There would be no one  else to understand him.

Under the evening sky of the garden, Ashley finally realised how much he truly hated his own twin brother.