The Hunger Games: Entropy (A Clato Fanfiction: NTI Series, Book 2)

Chapter 51

CLOVE’S POV

I traipse back up to my room and slam the door shut, immediately locking it behind me in order to keep Father out.

I know it sounds rude, but I just don’t want to see him right now. I’m not even sure is he’s here at the moment, but I’m not going to take any chances. Not when I need to be alone now more than ever. Not when I have a life-defining decision to make.

Come to think of it, I really shouldn’t have walked out on Cato like that.

Alright, I’ll admit it—I wasn’t exactly acting my age when I stormed out of his room like a whiny toddler. But it doesn’t justify that fact that he wasn’t exactly being as supportive about my decision as he said he would. His bias became clear far earlier than I thought it would.

I guess I left him hanging because the amount of hypocrisy in his attitude was way too high for my liking. If he decides to take on the position of the naysayer when we meet again, then he’s the one at fault. Not me.

However, I’m still just as lost as ever about the very reason why I walked out on him in the first place—our child.

I have issues with other people. No, I don’t gossip behind other people’s backs and make jokes about them like some scaredy-cat cliquester—I actually have real issues with other people. They drive me nuts on a daily basis. No one I know is an exception—that includes Enobaria, Cleo, Leonard, Father—even Cato. I’m no role model. Any child that I try to raise could become just as, if not more spiteful than I am.

I didn’t have to live this kind of a life. I could’ve just as easily taken up stone-cutting or something else if it wasn’t for growing up in less-than ideal conditions. I chose the life of a career tribute for a reason: because I had nothing to lose.

Because my grandparents decided to disown Father and leave us to fend for ourselves, the Games seemed like the only option if I wanted to prove my value to the world. If I had to raise a child under similar circumstances, I’m not sure I’d want them to suffer the same fate that I did.

Despite everything that training did for me, I can’t bring myself to kill an unborn child. Not right now. As desirable as it sounds to make life easier for everyone I know, the guilt trip sure to follow would inevitably eat me alive.

I’d probably spend the rest of my life wondering what that child would’ve become if they had lived. It feels like committing the same irresponsible crime that my grandparents committed—and they probably did it without any mercy or remorse.

Oh, who am I kidding? I’m just going in circles. I’m not ready to be a mother yet.

If I change my mind about this whole thing later, I won’t mind. The only thing that I do know at the moment is that I’m probably not going to make any smart decisions after everything that happened in the last few weeks. I’m so stressed out that I feel like pulling my hair out—right in front of Leonard, mostly because of how he’d react if he saw me do it.

Maybe I’ll change my mind after things get a chance to return to normal again. Maybe I won’t.

I think the best solution for the time being is to see Cato again and just go with the flow.

Still, I don’t blame myself for walking out on him. If I wanted his opinion that badly, I would’ve asked him for it a long time ago. He can call me a witch like it’s a bad thing—I don’t care. That’s his problem, not mine.

I really need to calm down.

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Once again, after a long night of deliberation, I find myself back at Cato’s front door—and his room. I still have unfinished business to take care of.