Cause I don't wanna lose you now
I'm lookin' right at the other half of me
The vacancy that sat in my heart
Is a space that now you hold
*cue music by Justin Timberlake*
Brad Sweeney's (District 3) P.O.V:
I am having déjà vu at the moment.
I remember this room. The pale pink walls, fluffy bearskin carpet dyed to match, obnoxious rosy sofa- the setting for my final goodbye appears as though I am already in the Capitol, not District 3 still.
My mother and father are probably experiencing the feeling that this has happened before, also, because it has. Except last time we stood in this room, four years ago, the tribute going into the Hunger Games was Bryce, not me. I was never the same after he died. The first few days I remember thinking I could start my own revolution, take down the Capitol and free the Districts from the Hunger Games. It was the only way I could cope. I became the leader of a small group of rebellious kids, formed a club called TDPATHG (Take Down Panem And The Hunger Games), made a secret code language, battle plans and all. Sure, there were only nine of us, but at the time that felt like a lot. Everyone else thought such play was 'childish', and all anyone ever wanted to be was 'grown up'.
All our initials put together spelled, BITCHSLAP. Myself, Brad, came first, as I was the leader. Then Irene, Tommy, Cali, Horace, Septimus, Lindsey, Angel, and Paris. More than half of those kids are dead now, Reaped in the upcoming years. Almost as though the Capitol was targeting us, to scare us into stopping even after our small organization had split up a few months later, when I got finally past my older brother's death.
First was Tommy, the upcoming year. Died in the Bloodbath. The year we were fourteen it was Septimus, who came in ninth. Last year was Cali, who got all the way to the final three but was then killed. Angel Mist was chosen for the fifteen Games this year, but she died pretty early. And the sixteen Games this year was me...me and Lindsey.
Lindsey Zenn, the girl who sacrificed herself so I could live, who threw herself in front of me as the wolf leaped forward, who didn't get the chance to speak her final words to me before she died. She was more than just an ally to me, more than just someone I shared my resources and fought alongside. I hadn't really known her before, even though she was part of TDPATHG- always speaking up but never really taking the lead away from me, we had a mutual respect for each other. I never got to know her though. I regret it now.
I miss Lindsey. I hate that she died so I could survive. No offense to Jillie, my district partner, but I wish Lindsey was here in the finals with me. I think it would be easier for me to cope with all of this- dying in my very near future, even though I'm only sixteen and would still have a whole, complete life ahead of me if this never happened. It's tough, the Hunger Games. I wish I had never been Reaped in the first place, never participated in the Hunger Games at all, and now I have to do it again. With more experienced killers.
I'm not worried about the competition for the title of Quell Champion. I just know that if I'm unfortunate enough to be caught and murdered by one of those practiced spawns of Satan who live for blood on their hands, my death is going to be much more gruesome for the people watching. Mainly, my parents. I don't want them to have to witness my blood everywhere or my joints twisted in unnatural ways or me being tortured at all. I'd rather just be killed quickly, by poison or a knife to the heart.
My mom and dad seem to be in that state where they want to believe I can win but deep in their hearts know this is the last time they will see me in the flesh. Their eyes already betray their grieving over losing their second son. I can't imagine what they must be going through- I understood the pain of Bryce's passing, as I felt it too, but this time I just feel...numb, almost, because it's me who's going to perish.
"It's going to be alright," my father says, more to himself than to me. He walks over to stand next to me and pats me on the shoulder. I can see he's trying not to give up. But in this moment, maybe it's just the lighting, but he looks older than he ever has before, his face ashen.
My mother sniffles. She's obviously very worried for me and knows the inevitable is coming. "We love you, Brad, no matter what," she says tearfully.
"And I the same to you both," I respond, my voice coming out as a hoarse whisper.
My father fixes me with a concerned look. "You're fine, son?"
"Yeah," I nod, dropping my gaze to study the rug underneath my feet. A bear was killed to make this fuzzy thing made only to step on, shot and then skinned. Knowing the Capitol, they probably didn't even make use of the rest of the bear. I don't understand how they can do that so easily, take the life of a living creature and then waste it. Then again, they have kids sent into an arena to murder each other for entertainment, so a bear is probably far from extreme on the scales of what they kill.
I'm not ready for this. I'm not prepared to die. I probably don't have a choice but to embrace it. I can't stop it. Well, I could, but I'm not that talented with weapons or survival. There's a ton of people better than me and one of them's going to get me.
I suppose I just have to think Lindsey and Bryce will be waiting for me.