I am suffocating, slowly dying from inability to breathe, while everyone around me only notices the tears on my cheeks. They know something’s wrong, but they tell me ‘not to worry’. So I smile and hide the pain deep, deep, becuase even when it wasn’t hidden, none of them even tried to find it.
—  A short poem for everyone who’s dying from sadness everyday; Echo
9

Annie’s the one who went mad when her district partner got beheaded.

You belong with me, not swallowed by the sea.

Part one of memories from a broken chest : Suffocation

You have nothing to prove.”

"That boy you volunteered for, he must mean a lot to you." "He’s my best friend, even when I had nothing, I had Shane."

"Patrick! What are you—no! Let me go, Patrick don’t do this." I hissed while he ignored me, grabbing the back of his collared shirt, yanking Patrick back into me. “You have nothing to prove, this is my battle.” Patrick didn’t have anything to prove, not to me or these sick bastards that lusted in blood, I already knew his worth, I knew exactly who Patrick Bellamy Rhodes was. He was my best friend, my family, a fisherman, a cocky bastard, and I loved him. Of course he brushed me away, making his way toward the podium,my feet fluidly carrying me behind the dark haired brute. I barely make it to the steps before a pair of Peacekeepers swing a baton behind my knees, bringing me to all fours. “Patrick, please..” 

You will never be forgotten, with me by your side. 

Glassy lenses zero in on my face, picking up my arduous breathing and I’m close to sending my fist into the floating camera, but I don’t make an ass of myself any longer. The town square is in utter reticence too godsmacked to mutter a word. ‘Oh my! We have a volunteer, marvelous. What is your name sweetheart?’ ‘Patrick Rhodes, ma’am.’Look at him, Patrick stood tall, defiant as if he was trying to prove to me, prove to our district that he was worthy. No, Panem nor anyone else for that matter wasn’t worthy of this kid. He would be tainted when all of this was over with. Witnessing what it put my father through, even years after his victory, I couldn’t watch my best friend crumble into pieces. Our eyes meet, blue on blue and I hold my breath, face scrunched up in desperation but it’s as if he sees right past me and that’s what kills me inside. When Patrick was focused on something, there was no stopping him. Heart pounding in my ears, I barely missed the girl’s name that would accompany Patrick in the arena, a girl named Annie Cresta. I knew of her around town, her mother helped cleaned fish with mine on occasions. What a shame how she’ll be the first to go, just as long as Patrick comes home. I have that faith and if I know that idiot as much as I do, he’s overconfident. 

And I don’t need this life, I just need someone to die for.

I was the first to send off Patrick, although the peacekeepers weren’t pleased with my little show earlier. The clouds surrounding the district moved closer, looking so dissatisfied. “You have three minutes, kid.” Three minutes was nothing, not enough time. Shoved into a dusty room, upholstery that hadn’t been touched in years, centuries even, by the corner of the room, leaning against the window, Patrick shifted his head toward me, pupils dilated and eyes wide. Without a word and a heavy footsteps, I flung myself in his arms. My face buried against his wrinkled shirt and gripping the material around his biceps. I was afraid to speak, terrified to let myself breakdown. There was no hiding in this, no turning off my emotions. I was scared, and I wasn’t the only one. Patrick gripped my shirt at my back and his shoulders slumped. I could feel his chest tighten against me, noting just how petrified he was. “What is wrong with you?” Is all I could muster out, broken up words and fits of anger cracked my voice. “You know was the one going to the arena. Why? You can’t do this. You have nothing to prove out there. To them, to anyone, not even me. I know your worth.” I didn’t give him an option to speak, I was too hung up on his face, and how the fear, animosity and anxiety flickered across his beryl eyes. “Shane, just shut up. You know if it was my name you would do the same god damn thing. I’m not watching on a damn screen for you to get hurt or something worse. I can’t do it. You have your parents and Mar to come home to. Who do I have besides dad and you? No one. I have nothing to lose, you have everything. Don’t patronize me. I have to do this. For you, your family, for us. I knew something was up, you think I can’t read you. We’ve been friends for sixteen years, Beckett.” In that moment, I watched my best friend’s face shatter. “I’m scared. I’m not coming home. I’m just glad it’s me and not you. What a mess I am.” My heart swelled in my chest, lump in my throat. I crack. My hands find Patrick’s chest, shoving him off me and nearly send him into the antique bookcase. “You are coming home, I’ll do anything and everything in my power to make sure. I’ll get you sponsors. You’re strong, you’re smart. C’mon, don’t talk like that! You’re coming home.” As the silence washed over us, Patrick and I just stared at one another, chests heaving, and waiting for the other to speak. I was losing precious time, frightened and feeling so small. It was like watching a family member brace the seas in the roughest storms for fish and pray they come back, not all the time, but a good portion of the time, their boats and ships wash up to shore. I didn’t want to be the one skimming the horizon as Patrick’s body floated away. All of a sudden, a crooked smile curled along Patrick’s lips. “We’re going to have a huge party when I get back. Like last summer, when you got wasted—” “Yeah, we don’t talk about that.” I stop him, my own mouth twitching with a smile as I hold up my hand. Another pause and I watch his features soften, the peacekeeper opening the door. As he wraps a hand around my arm, Patrick steps in scooping me up in a tight squeeze. “Shane, I swear to god, don’t do anything stupid.” 

                                          I was wrong. 

So apprently sharks are forced to be upside down and held still they die because that induces tonic immobility in them, which basically means they can’t move and they slowly suffacate, as sharks need to move to breathe . Killer whales apprently take advantage of that and hold sharks upside down to induce that state in the shark. There was one observed case where a female orca held a shark upside sown for fiftenn minutes in her mouth while the shark died slowly. Then she and a pod member ate it’s liver and let it sink.

So in short, Mogeko REALLY hit the nail on the head with Idate’s character. because orcas are mean mother fuckers that kill for fun.

Don’t be surprised if I’m dead in the morning cause I can’t breathe through my nose and I’ll probably suffacate in my sleep.

I cant even take a nap without suffacating in my sleep remembering the pain of the water in my lungs.. Gasping for one last breath of air..sucking in hell as it chokes me down, the sky gets darker further away.. I began to fade as it gets colder and the current pulls me down and rips me into the rocks.. Then there was nothing. Just nothingness. I was dead in that time and unconscious. Nothing but darkness as everything replays.. Re living the bleeding.. The shooting.. Reliving all the pain, like it was happening that monent, all at once. Having him die in my arms. Seeing logan shooting herself feeling all of the pain they felt as tje bullet tore through her heart, listening and feeling the hearts last time beating as it gives it final blow..
Maybe it would be easier if i just died rn.. No goodbyes. Nothing. Just take the blade. Within minutes it would be all over..

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