The Untold Story of Cato and Clove

Chapter 11

In honor of Mockingjay Part 2

Clove

Have you ever had that feeling when you meet someone like you know they are going to be an important piece of your life? You don't know why or how, but it's just an instinct. You realize that they came into your life for a reason. Whether it's your best friend or the love of your life or maybe, in my case, both.

When I was nine years old I realized this boy was going to be someone. I don't know if I was just a strange nine year old or what, but I knew I would never forget Cato the moment my knife flew past his head. I was young, but I knew it was dangerous to become attached to someone.

I really should have listened to my nine year old conscience because I have no idea what to do if I lose that stupid boy. He means too much to me now and here we are fighting to the death. Fighting for what? Our lives? How am I supposed to live my life without my best friend? Would it be worth living?

Why couldn't I be like every other nine year old girl who thought boys had cooties?

Cato

Why does she keep staring at me like that? Maybe she wants me to say something.

"Hey," I offered.

"Man, you piss me off sometimes," she said as she walked towards the woods.

"What the hell did I do?"

Okay I know these are not the best circumstances, but I really thought we got passed the "I hate you because I love you" stage.

"Chicks, man," Marvel said as he shook his head.

I gave him a look that could kill.

I walked toward the woods and found Clove sitting on a fallen log. I sat down next to her and said,"You wanna tell me what the hell that was about?"

"I'm sorry I just I-I," she stuttered. She never has trouble finding the words to say.

I wrap my arms around her and whisper,"I know."

We sit there until we hear the explosions.