Julian Veritas

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Julian
Name: Julian Veritas

Age: 15 

Gender: Male 

District: 13 (3, 6, 5) 

<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">Weapons: <span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-weight:bold">Julian would first go with a machete, since he has experience with knives and similar weapons, but after that would choose a bow and arrow. <span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">Appearance: <span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-weight:bold">Julian has slightly frizzy, light brown hair, and ice-blue eyes. He has a bridge of freckles running across his nose, and has slightly tanned skin. He usually has a nervous smile on his face, or a neutral or worried expression.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">Height: <span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-weight:bold">5’11 <span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height: 115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">Personality: Julian is a quiet, fragile, and caring boy. He is very antisocial, but likes to be with a few people. He’s the kind of boy you’d want as a friend, since he can be very helpful and loyal, too. He is very trustworthy, and no one really knows what he would sacrifice for them until the moment comes when they actually need it. After Jolee’s death, he became a lot like she used to be, in the fact that he can be very upbeat and nice, often laughing and trying to make people happy. On the inside, he might be a bit depressed, but he wants to be happy, and he is. All he wants is to be happy, and to make others happy, just like Jolee.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">Skills: <span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-weight:bold">Julian is very good with electronics/building, and is strong, along with being a fast runner. <span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">Weaknesses: <span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-weight:bold">Julian is bad with nature skills since he hasn’t had much exposure to it, and has bad weapon skills since he hasn’t exposure to that either, along with being a bad swimmer. <span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">Alliance: <span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-weight:bold">Julian would ally with a small group of other nice tributes, or ones that he thinks seem like they would make good allies. This might include young tributes (12-13), since he wants to protect them like he couldn’t have done for Jolee. <span style="font-size:12.0pt; line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">Fears: Julian can be scared of large amounts of blood, because it reminds him of Jolee’s death, and his helplessness to help her. He is also slightly scared of darkness, ever since Jolee died.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">Token: The small, slightly torn teddy bear that used to belong to Jolee. He’ll keep it kind of as a secret in the arena, since he doesn’t want to look like a wimp, but he won’t go into the arena without the little bear, since it’s all he has left of Jolee.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">Reasons for Winning: <span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">Julian wants to win for Jolee. He knows that she loved him, no matter how lost she might have been, and she only wanted him to be happy in life. He wants to win so that even if Jolee is gone, and can’t see him anymore, she can at least get what she would have wanted. A happy, peaceful life… even if Julian is left to live it without her.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">Private Training Strategy:  Go for a medium to high score. Get your machete and bow and arrows, and turn on the hologram. Use your machete for up-close combat, and then shoot them from afar with your arrows; show you good of an aim you have. Show that you are strong, and good at running by running by and slashing holograms with your machete. Then set to work with electronics and build something... I don't know, a trap, a small bomb, something that shows that your time in District 13 has not been in vain. XD

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">Family Members: 

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Mother (Deceased)

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Father (Deceased)

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Jane Veritas (Sister/guardian, aged 23)

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Jolee Veritas (Sister, aged 11, deceased)

Backstory
<p style="text-align:center;">"I hope that someday you'll forgive and set me free."

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:center;">~*~

Warning: This is probably the saddest backstory I've ever written, and I almost cried while writing parts of it. It might be a bit emotionally heavy, but I guess it depends on the reader (and how good of a writer I am 0w0)

<p style="text-align:center;">~*~

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">For a long time, I lived with my family, and we were all happy. But that didn’t  last long.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">The first child to be born was Jane, a girl with beautiful blue eyes and golden hair like what I imagine the fields in District 9 look like, and her eyes are like mine; like a shallow ocean. Second was me. I was a mistake… at least, I think I was. Jane was always the favorite child, since our parents always wanted a girl like my mother: strong, independent, and victor material. Jane was always favored, but sometimes she would sneak me candy and other things. Jane wasn’t at all like our mother, she actually cared about other people.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Lastly came sweet little Jolee. Sweet, fragile, caring Jolee. Our mother thought that Jolee was the child that would carry down the family line of victory. The whole victory thing didn’t really work out for our whole family, as our father had killed himself when his little brother was lost to the games.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Jolee had hair like mine, only curly. Our mother used to put it up in a ponytail like she did to Jane, but I would always keep another hair tie in my room and give Jolee pigtails. Jane was our caring older sister, Jolee was the fragile little girl, but what was I? The mistake? The third wheel?

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">What Jane and I didn’t know, was that our mother had finally given up on Jane. She didn’t want to teach Jane about being a victor, anymore, she was going after Jolee. I was 13 at the time, Jolee was 10, and Jane was old enough to live on her own. Jolee was crying one night, and I snuck to her room to see what was going on.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“Jolee, what’s wrong? Is something going on?”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">She was hugging her little teddy bear tightly to her chest. Mother had tried to destroy it once, saying it made Jolee look like a wimp, so the bear had a little tear on the side, where a bit of fluff was falling out. I sat next to Jolee and stuffed the stuffing back in her teddy bear, and gave her a kiss on the head.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“It’s mommy.” She answered, shivering from… fear? “Mommy is evil…”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">I never really knew what Mom was doing to destroy Jolee’s little innocent mind, but something wasn’t right with Jolee. She wasn’t the same. She wasn’t acting fragile anymore, and when she got mad at school once, she was sent home for a week for stabbing another kid in the hand with a pencil.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">I told Jane about what Jolee had said. Jane just shook her head and walked out of the room. I wondered if Mom had done the same thing to Jane, until the next day. I always woke up early to take a peek at the sunset through our sunroof (living in District 13, sunrises are a real gift to see), but no one knew that. That was when I saw Jane walk into the kitchen – where I was opening the sunroof – and she was dragging something behind her. Her face went pale, and she looked ghostly in the darkness.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“Julian.” She said, and she sounded like a demon who could snap my neck before I had a chance to scream. All she was missing was the Cheshire smile. Instead, she had a stone-cold expression. And I even could see… tears?

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“Jane?” I asked, backing up against the wall, scared. I found the light-switch and turned on the lights. Jane covered her eyes and gasped, and I screamed. Jane had blood on her pajamas.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Jane ran over to the cupboards, looking for something. I rushed over to her, clutching her arm. She looked furious that I had found her, but all I could do was worry. “Jane?! Did Mom do this to you?! WHAT ABOUT JOLEE!”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">I heard little footsteps from the hallway, from Jolee’s room, then a banging on her door. She was crying, and I didn’t know why.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“JOLEE!” I screamed, “are you alright?”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“She fine!” Jane said angrily through gritted teeth. I turned to her, and she towered over me, holding a frying pan in her hands. Is this how every victor started their career? Killing innocents before the games? I looked to the hallway, back to Jolee’s door.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“You locked her in.” My heart started to beat faster than I ever knew it could.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“So she wouldn’t have to know! But now she knows!” Jane screamed, and the last thing I heard was Jolee’s crying, and then a large banging noise, before everything went black.

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">~*~

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">The next time I woke up, I saw the familiar while ceiling of my house, and instantly felt something cold underneath my head, before a pang of pain rose up. I flinched and gasped, seeing Jane’s face over mine, with the same stone-cold expression as before. I started crying. “Please, please don’t finish me off…”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“Finish you?” Jane asked. The sweetness had returned to the tone of her voice. “I’m sorry I had to hit you with a frying pan, but otherwise… well…”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“Julian!” Jolee came running up to me, holding her teddy bear in one hand and hugging me with the other. “You’re awake!”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Jane told me what happened. The only way to stop Mom from ruining Jolee’s life was to kill her. Jane had done it. Her face was still ghostly pale, and her movements were staggering as she healed me. Apparently I had also twisted my ankle, but that didn’t hurt as much.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">After Jane had killed her, she was going to dispose of it through the sunroof so evidence couldn’t be found. But I was there. She had locked Jolee in her room so Jolee hadn’t have had to know, but I had ruined everything.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“Who’s taking care of us now?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“Me.” Jane replied.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Now, with Jane being our caregiver, and Jolee and me being happy siblings, everything could be right… we would be a happy family.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">But that was wrong.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Something still wasn’t right with Jolee. She started acting a little crazy, and would often break down and cry very loudly, and she would scream, have conversations with herself… the only thing that would fix her was if I or Jane comforted her, but I seemed to work better.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“Julian…” Jolee would say, wiping her bloodshot eyes, “tell me a story.”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">She always wanted the same story, one about a little bear. Bears were her favorite animal, and I had tried different bear stories, but it was the same one that always worked. After that she would either calm down or fall asleep. Even though she had been broken on the inside, deep in her heart, I knew the same little innocent Jolee was there. Somewhere.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Jolee started to spiral downwards one day. She locked herself in her room, and gave me the key. She told me to unlock in the next morning, but I unlocked the door as soon as she gave me the key. She didn’t come out for a long time, though. When she did, I was waiting by the door for her. I had slept there all night, and when she stepped out of the doorway, I heard her soft feet tapping across the floor, all the way to the kitchen.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Jolee was 12 at the time, I was 15. I had no idea that that day would be so important. I was still half-asleep when I heard Jolee holding back screams of pain and tears. I sat up and walked into the kitchen, looking down at the floor. My eyes were still groggy, but I could see it. The floor was stained red, and Jolee was huddling against the wall, crying. I wiped my eyes. ''This is all a dream, this is just a dream! ''I told myself.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">But as soon as the blood on the floor touched my bare foot, I could feel its warmth, and I started to feel sick. I collapsed onto the floor, and looked to Jolee, who was clutching her arm, crying. In her hand she had a knife. I called out her name, but everything sounded fuzzy to me. She dropped the knife with a clatter, and I stood up, running to Jane’s room, pounding on the door.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">We never knew what had gotten into Jolee. After that, we bandaged up her cut arm, and I tried to forget the sight of my little sister’s own blood. Jolee was fragile, sweet, caring, childish, not a tough girl. She was convinced she had to be, but she really wasn’t. I started to cry, too.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Jolee came to me one night, and told me she had had a nightmare. “Can I sleep in your bed?”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“Of course.” I smiled at her, and put away my book, yawning.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Jolee climbed into the bed, her small, warm self right next to me. She was shaking.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“Are you okay?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“I just want to live a happy life.” Jolee said wistfully, staring at the wall. She sighed, and turned to face the ceiling, her eyes closed. She had her little bear with her.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“You can live a happy life.” I told her.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Jolee shook her head, and turned to look at me. “Help me.” She whispered, sounding just like Jane had that one night: with a pale face, she spoke like a demon. Except Jolee could never be that bad. She could never kill, and she would never want to. But after what she had done to herself, I wondered what she meant right now.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“I’ve been trying to help you.” I told her.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Jolee shook her head, a wide, pained smile creeping up onto her face. “I want you to live a happy life!” The smile made her look even more demonic, especially with a small tear forming in her eye. “You need to have a happy life… and Jane needs to.”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“Do you want me to tell you a story?” I asked her.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Jolee got up, and stared at the ground. She took her teddy bear and looked at his little button eyes, the small, sewn on smile. For a moment, her face matched her teddy bear’s; seemingly joyful, but lifeless at the same time. Faking emotion that could never be felt, because that bear could never feel emotion. But Jolee could.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“No.” She turned to me, and the darkness cast an eerie shadow on her. She giggled and repeated her one word, “NO. I won’t ever need a story again.”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Jolee stormed out of my room, but closed the door quietly.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">I sat there in shock, and, suddenly scared of the darkness, turned the lights on. I started to shake. Jolee had never turned down a story before… why would she? “Help me”… “you need to live a happy life… and Jane needs to”… “I won’t ever need a story again”.

<p class="MsoNormal">''<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">“I won’t ever need a story again”. ''

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">I stared off into the distance, and repeated those words over and over. Jolee could always act like a riddle, where you had to figure out what she was saying by thinking about it after she said it. But this was no mistake. “I won’t ever need a story again.” Never again would I be able to tell her a story.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">I ran out of my room, taking my pocket knife with me. I had unlocked doors with it before, and Jolee would definitely be behind a closed door. I checked her room, but it was unlocked. I turned on the lights and looked around. Her teddy bear was gone, and she was, too. I checked the kitchen, and saw the knife drawer open. Everything inside of me went cold, and I ran to the last place she could be… the bathroom.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Sure enough, the door was locked. I could hear muffled weeping from inside.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“JOLEE!” I screamed, “OPEN THE DOOR RIGHT NOW!”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“No…” she replied weakly from the other side. “You don’t need to come in. And… I can’t…”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">I thought of Jolee’s bleeding arm from a week ago, and started to shake. I took out my knife, and even cut my own finger before getting it into the lock. I twisted the knob a few times, and then the door swung open. What greeted me was not only a crying Jolee, but a nightmare.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">The floor was bloodstained all over, and her teddy bear lie on the counter, part of him wet with fresh blood. “I won’t ever need a story again”.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">The sight of her blood made me feel sick, but I kneeled down beside her, crying. I didn’t even want to know where the blood was coming from, but I cradled her in my arms, both of us crying together.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“Julian…” she said, seeming to snap back to reality, “why did I do this? Help me…”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">I shook my head. “I… I d-don’t know… and everything’s going to be fine, everything is fine Jolee, please… please stay with me.”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Jolee put her hand on my arm, and closed her eyes, taking her breathes in large gasps.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">“I’m sorry, but I can’t stop the bleeding.” <span style="font-size:12.0pt; line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">That was all I told her, as we cried together, with Jolee dying in my arms. A mirror was on the floor, with blood splattered across the shiny surface. I picked it up, and looked at my own expression. The mirror had been cracked down the middle, so my face was split in two, which was exactly how I felt.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“Look, Jolee.” I told her, forcing a smile. “You see that? You’re reflection?” Somehow, her face and pigtails had no blood on them. “That’s you. You’re beautiful, sweet, and I love you more than anything.” One more look in the mirror to see what’s real and fake, Jolee…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Her breathing was more shallow now, and her eyes were starting to get glazed over. She had a small smile on her face. Quietly, she spoke what would be her last sentence. Ever. “Julian, tell me a story. A story about a little bear…”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">So I told her the story she had heard a thousand times, and set down the mirror. I watched Jolee the whole time, who’s facial expression had softened, until she looked so calm, I knew it was over. Never would I see the same glimmer in her eyes, never would I hear her ask for a story ever again. Even after I knew she was gone, I finished the story. Because I wanted the story to be finished; I wanted Jolee to rest in peace knowing that I loved her.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">“Crying and it’s all because of you…” <span style="font-size:12.0pt; line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">I whispered after I had finished the story. I sniffed, and looked at her. She had closed her eyes, and a small smile was still on her face. Her cheeks were a rosy pink, and it looked just like she had gone to sleep. I had no idea what to do, so I stayed with her until Jane came. After that, everything was horrible.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">The next day, Jane tried to get rid of the teddy bear, but I begged her not to, cried even. She insisted on washing the blood off of it at least, and we both sat there in silence while it got taken away with the rest of our laundry. I didn’t even know what to do after that. Jolee was too fragile and caring to part with this world, we all needed her there. A little ray of sunshine in our lives, a burst of happiness. But now that was gone. I slept with the teddy bear every night, and was scared of my own shadow after she had left.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">I told Jane one day what Jolee had told me the night she died. That she wanted us to live happy lives… but apparently that meant without her.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“What were her last words?” Jane asked, staring off into the distance.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“She said… umm…” It wasn’t that I didn’t remember, but it broke my heart in two to think about it, to hear her voice once more in my head. “ ‘Julian, tell me a story… a story about a little bear.’ “

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Jane smiled, and a tear fell from her eye. “Same old Jolee. Asking for a story.”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">“I wish I could have helped her.” I said, crying.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Jane hugged me tight. “There was nothing you could have done. And you did the right thing. You stayed with her to the end. You know she wouldn’t have wanted to be alone.”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">She had locked the door, but when I thought about it, Jolee never wanted to be alone. She had just not wanted saving.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">When Jane hugged me as I cried, I realized I was just as fragile as Jolee was.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">There’s a princess captured in a wooden frame… 

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">I would stare at the picture of Jolee that hung up on the wall in our house for hours. It was a birthday present to her for her 11th birthday. We took her to the only photographer in the district, and he took that picture, with her curly pigtails.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"TimesNewRoman","serif"">I’ll trade eternity for one last look at you… 

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">All I wanted was to see her again, but she would never come back. Underneath the makeup, the scars seal my heart… an unspeakable reminder that I’m hurt and sad.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">Sometimes, I would look in the cracked mirror and see my severed reflection staring back at me. I kept the mirror in my room, but after a while, never looked at it again. If I could, I would write a letter to the angels so that you’re safe until the moment we meet again…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">After a while, I stopped thinking that Jolee would one day step out of her room, that the third chair at the table would have Jolee sitting in it, swinging her feet back and forth. That I would have someone to walk to and from school with. All of that was gone, because Jolee thought she was a danger to us. That we couldn’t be happy with her there.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">But really, I couldn’t he happy without her.

<p class="MsoNormal">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">~*~

<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman","serif"">(3,025 words)

Inspiration
Title: Song for Jolee

Artist: Kamelot

Lyrics: