The Afterlife

You might’ve always thought that the people who died are actually dead. Well, you thought wrong. I don’t remember who I am. I don’t remember anything. Not a single thing. I don’t remember who I am. All I know is that I am wearing some kind of suit. And I have blood on my stomach. But I try not to talk or think about that. It’s just blood anyways right? I assume it’s how I died. Though a lot of people here lost their flesh, and all you see is their inside intestines and organs, they even have no hair at all. I still have all my flesh and all of my hair. When I go to the bathroom and look in the mirror, I seem young. I assume I’m around 12 or 13. 

I don’t know.

I have no friends, and I don’t know what happened to my family. Or even, if I have a family. I have a dagger in my boot. I take it out and look at it sometimes. I trace the smooth flat part of it. I trace it as if it’ll lead me somewhere where I’ll find the answers to my ponderings. 

I wash my face and I look in the mirror. I see a girl with frizzy curly black hair. My skin is the shade of tree bark and smooth like the surface of my dagger. I have dark deep brown eyes and I look into them. I see nothing but an endless highway. I gurgle water in my mouth and I stare upon at the ceiling. It’s stained, and some of the tiles have fallen off. The lights flicker once in a while. 

I wonder how long I’ll be able to withstand the smell and sight of this airport. 

I spit the water out and I take out my dagger. I cut another mark to the armies of lines I’ve carved upon the walls of this airport. 

Today is my three hundred and eighty-seventh day here.

I walk out of the doorless bathroom. I then sit down on a somewhat bench and I ponder. 

~~~

My stomach grumbles, screaming for food. So, I begin my hunting. 

I walk out of the airport and into the forest that lies behind it. I walk on the crunchy leaves and I grab fruits that grow amongst the bushes. I climb a tree and I grab a mango growing from one of its ever-growing branches and I chew on my food for the day. I then think of the question that’s been swimming up to the surface of my mind every day. 

What if I escape from this place?

I look at the half-eaten piece of mango in my hand. I look at the texture and the color. I sit up straighter and then look at the airport. I breathe and breathe out. 

I might as well try shouldn’t I? If I actually die then so be it. I’m in a world where I don’t even who and what I am anymore.

I look down at the corpses around the airport. A lot of people pity me because I’ve died at a very young age in the real world according to them. But, I ignore them. I pretend to be thankful for their pity. 

I grab my backpack from my bed. Also, known as a ripped leather chair. I stuff my jacket, clean my dagger with a giant leaf I found one day, and then stuff it into my boot. I take the piece of bread I have in my backpack that I never ate and I take a bite. The bread is somehow still fresh.

Tastes good. 

I stuff it away in my backpack before the other people come and grab it out of my hands. I zipper up my backpack and sling it over my shoulders. I also check if I have my water bottle. In fact, I do. Now, I begin my journey. 

~~~

It feels as if I’ve been walking for days. The sun screams at me to close my eyes or else droplets of water leaking from my forehead will rain on my face. I ignore the sun to the best of my ability. 

The sun begins to set and I start to see fewer and fewer people. At least, that’s what I think we are at this state. 

~~~

I now am walking through a forest full of tall tall trees. My feet drag against the dark rich soil. I only see families and families of long ever-growing trees. I climb onto a tree and start leaping from tree to tree. For some reason, I am good at this. 

Is this something I was doing in my past life?

I eventually get tired from leaping. So, I stop. I rest my hands against the rough bark. I breathe in slowly. Then, I breathe out. My breath fills the air and I lean my head against the coldness of the tree. I close my eyes and keep breathing in and out slowly. Until, I fall asleep. 

~~~

I wake up to hearing someone screaming. I am not able to move. I feel trapped. I feel lost. I feel as if...I am drowning in my head. I toss and turn and I wail my arms. I start to scream and I sweat. I kick my leg frantically and I want to open my eyes, but at the same time, I don’t want to face the depth of reality. All of a sudden, I am able to move again. But then sharply, I feel something soar into me. 

Breathe.

I thrust my eyes open and sit up. I look around and see nothing, but a vast valley of trees. I am not tied up or anything. It takes me a while to realize my hands are shaking.

I climb down from the tree and take a bite of the bread. Suddenly, I hear a branch snap. 

I quickly turn around and see someone behind me. They have a stone-like object in their hands. Their face is covered in dirt and it looks as if they’ve never washed themselves before. Their eyes look like a hurricane. I take a step back, cautious. 

The guy grumbles. 

I try to look confident. 

His eyes rest on my face and his face tenses. 

I take two steps back. 

Then, he runs toward me with the stone object raising high. 

I quickly start running and screaming. But, only my scream echoes in the forest. The guy grumbles louder. It sounds as if he is saying “Food.” 

I wasn’t really planning to be someone’s dinner.

I start sprinting, but the guy is catching up. My feet carry me across the leaves and the soil. My boots thump against the ground. He runs over and tackles me and I scream again. The stone object is about to hit me when I rollover. I feel leaves getting stuck in my hair. I quickly pull out the dagger in my boot the sunlight reflecting my dagger. 

The guy freezes. 

I keep my guard up. 

“De...n...er..” I hear the guy rumble. 

The guy walks slowly toward me with one of his legs limping. 

I back up against a tree.

Ah, shoot. 

Suddenly, he chucks the rock toward me. 

I quickly turn my head to the side. The bark is cold against my sweating skin. The rock barely misses me. A finger’s length. He grabs a heavy stick amongst the ground and charges toward me. I scramble up the tree. My palms grasping the rough bark. My palms are grasping so hard it feels like they are bleeding. I look upward and don’t look back. Glimpses of daylight seeping through the tree leaves. My legs push me upward. 

Once I’ve made it to a high branch, I start leaping from tree to tree. It’s as if the wind is carrying me. The guy is unable to climb up the tree. He struggles, his arms wailing, he then tries to grab the bark with his uneasy hands but it only results in cutting him. He starts taking whatever objects closest to him and starts throwing them at me. I dodge and begin to pant, slowly starting to get tired from leaping all the time. 

The guy finally, in defeat, grudgingly walks away. 

I sit on the tree and stare at the guy until he is a finger size big, an ant size big, and then nothing. I wait a couple more seconds just make sure he is gone and not coming back. Then, I let go of the breath I’ve been holding for a while. This journey was harder than I thought. 

~~~

I assume days have passed and I eventually begin to wonder what I'm doing at this point. I wonder why I decided to do this. What was truly the purpose of walking all this time? But I still continue on.

~~~

As even more time passes by I begin to want to give up. But, I’ve finally walked into a different landscape. I've walked into a downtown. 

I am no longer in the forest, in the fields, or in the airport. I am now in a town. However, the town seems dead. The only non-dead creatures feel like ghosts tickling my neck. Everything here seems eerie. No one is even here. At least, I think that. I get a feeling of loss, a feeling of emptiness when I walk in this town. There is a soft mist here though. Some lamplight’s flicker, clocks have stopped moving and the arms have fallen down.  Some are officially dead. The path stones have fallen apart and cracked. The buildings and homes are torn, destructed. Or, are even in defacement. But, I continue walking. 

I see a bakery with a light inside. Out of curiosity, I push open the crooked oak door. 

I see an old woman sitting on a wooden stool looking out into the somewhat distance. She is staring at the mist wrapping around the mountains. 

I slowly make exit out, but she stops me.

“Don’t be afraid.” the old woman says.

I stagger for a moment, but I catch myself.

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. 

“This town used to be full of happy people you know. At least until that thing started,” she states.

“Oh,” I say softly. 

But in my mind, I start forming millions and millions of questions. 

What is that thing? What is she doing here? Is she one of us? But, what even is us? What am I going to do? Is she going to kill me?

She interrupts my thinking. 

“Someone once said may the odds ever be in your favor.” She pauses, but then continues on, “That means nothing.”

“What do you mean?” I ask needing answers.

“You’ll see,” she mumbles.

“What are you saying?”

“There is a gate if you walk a couple more yards. Do something to open it. Ain’t no matter what you do.”

What are you trying to tell me? 

“Go child. Don’t look back.” 

“What do you mea-” but then the sound of firing interrupts me.

I quickly run out and see a couple of men holding up their guns. They are guarding the gates. Their guns are white and black, with many many different compartments. 

They stare at me.

I shrink a little.

“What are you doing here?” demands one of the men.

They are wearing an eye-piercing shade of white armor and a helmet.

“Return to where you belong!” one of them demands to me. 

“I don’t understand,” I reply careful of my words.

“Why are you here.” another one of them demands.

I become silent.  

If I reply to them I’ll probably be the dead kind of dead. 

I decide upon saying, “Because um...I um..need to see someone on the other side.” 

They turn their heads to each other. They mutter something. 

“You are lying! You are just one of those people who want to escape!”

Escape what? 

The thought spirals down and down and I almost blurt it out.

“I don’t want to escape,” I say firmly.

“You weird people are just trying to understand what you are!” says one of the guards.

“You are weird poisonous creatures who will eat each other for survival. Your disgusting skin dissolves off. You are useless. That is how you even died in the first place.” 

Useless? Me? Are you serious?

I want to be able to escape at this very moment. In this very moment, I want to be able to leap into space and be able to exceed my maximum limits. I want to be able to soar high into the sky and never come down I want to be able to be oblivious to whatever is happening right now. But I can’t. That is reality. I can never be free. The words that have been spoken surround me. They pierce me.  

“You know what? I never asked to be in this state. I just want to be free. All I’ve been doing here is just walking around staring at the sunset and carving marks upon a somewhat bathroom wall just to feel like I can still control something. I want to know if I actually even have a family. I want to feel like...like an actual human according to your definition.” I say sharply eyeing each and every one of them, “I want to know if I even have a family if I have any friends. I want to know my name, my age. I want to be able to be happy.” I pause and suck in a breath. 

“Is that ever so wrong?” 

The guards look at me. 

I look at them.

It feels like years have gone by of us just staring at each other. Their masks facing in my direction. For a second, I wonder if they even want to be here right now. I wonder if they were forced to have this kind of job. I shake the thought out of my head. They look like they are trying to read me, but I intend to form a wall around me, not letting them pass into my thoughts, my space.

“We can tell you what happened, but we cannot let you pass these very gates.” one of the guards finally manage to say.

Are you serious? 

“Fine.” I hiss.

One of the guards takes off their helmet. 

He has a scar on the side of his face and he looks as if he has been starved for years. His eyes look tired and hurt.

“I am a peacekeeper.”

I remain silent.

“There is a game called the Hunger Games,” he continues his voice starting to get tense,  “Where two people from all twelve districts get selected to participate in the games. They are called tributes.”

He swallows and he takes a breath. He looks as if he swallowed a rock.

“They fight and kill each other until one person survives it all. That one person wins and they get popularity and fame just stuff like that,” he holds his breath.

“Everyone assumes that those who died in the Hunger Games are actually dead. But..they’re actually not.” 

Everything around me locks into place. The blood on me, the stuff I have left with me, the dagger I have and so many more things fall into place. 

Do I actually have a family? Friends?

“What happens is...they get carried into a plane and they get brainwashed. They then are put into a state which is the matter of state you are in right now. You are made to do work for the games, but because you are so young you don’t have to work yet.” 

He looks at the gates and his face relaxes. 

“I used to have a son. But the games ruined his life,” 

He swiftly puts his helmet back on not looking at me. 

“Act like we never met and talked,” he commands.

He then walks back to his post.

“Who was he?” I blurt out all of a sudden.

He looks at me and sucks in a breath. 

“Why do you want to know?”

I shrug, my eyes resting on the ground.

“His name was Cato...he was a good son.” 

I look at the black dilapidated gates, at how some parts of the gate are falling apart. Some parts are scratched, some parts are rusted. 

I study each one of the guards as if they have some kind of untold story. 

Sorry.

I quickly draw out the dagger from my brown leather boot and grip tightly on the leather handle. I throw it into the guard's chest and pierce him, blood leaks from his armor. I run-up to the guard and swiftly pull the dagger out. I am about to aim at the other guards when the two other guards quickly draw their guns. I shove the dagger in my boot.

I kick open the gates and the gates screech open easily to my surprise. 

I shove past the guards and spin around. 

I slam shut the gates in the guard's face and then sprint. 

I don’t look back. 

I hear yelling and screaming in despair. 

“SOMEONE GET HER!”

Bullets whiz past me. 

The guard’s screaming start to fade away. 

I make out, “SHE’S GETTING AWAY!” 

But, I’m already too far from them.

~~~

I continue running until I am out of breath. My footsteps echoing against the rough stones. 

Click-clack click-clack.

I bring up the courage to finally look behind me, fortunately, I see no one is following me anymore. I smile to myself. I made it into a small village. Almost every house looks the same here, vast, elegant, but also...sorrowful. There is no color, just white, gold and grey. Most of the house lights are off. 

But, I continue to walk.

I stop and notice a fence. The fence seems newly built. I decide to climb over it. 

I grip the wooden white fence and swing my leg over it. I jump down upon the breezy grass. What I don’t realize is that I've just climbed into someone’s house. 

Whatever. 

I see a swing set and walk over to it. The seat color has faded. I sit on it anyways. The swing set makes me ponder. I trace my finger along the cold, rusted metal part of the swing. I wonder how the past person felt sitting on this very swing seat. 

Through the tiny cracks in the white fence, I see grassy hills and the sun setting. The colors make the view look vibrant. The colors make it look radiant. The sun bleeds color on the hills. 

I made it. 

I am now free. 

I am finally free from the burden. 

I can start to actually live lively. 

I laugh silently to myself. 

“Rue?”

I jump and quickly turn around and see a woman with her hair in a braid hanging over her shoulder. She is holding a baby in her arms. The baby has rosy cheeks and is sleeping quietly. 

Tears form in her eyes. She smiles weakly. 

“This can’t be possible,” she says quietly.

I get off the swing and stand up on the blowing grass.  

“Do you,” her voice cracks midway. “Remember me?”

I shake my head, cautious. 

“It’s me...Katniss Everdeen.”