CATO POV
"I'm starting to think," Glimmer whispers. "I think it should be soon. Maybe in a couple of days."
I know she's talking to Marvel, but she isn't making much of an effort to be quiet, so I won't make much of an effort to stay out of their private conversation. They're talking about leaving. I know it's futile to attempt to convince myself that I don't care if they go, so I won't try to. Perhaps I'll leave too. I imagine myself, roaming alone through the arena, watching my back for Marvel, Glimmer and Clove. The thought doesn't sit right, but in a matter of days it will be my reality.
"Soon," Marvel whispers back, promptly shushing her as we wander the woods in search for someone, anyone. These are our days now, tramping through trees, weapons poised, waiting for prey. It's pathetic. I can't imagine anyone in their right mind getting entertainment out of this, but I guess most of the Capitol aren't in their right minds. They're different to us.
Clove hasn't said a single word to me since the last fight we had. And I find myself even missing the insults. It's stupid, I know, but even her scowling and threatening me is better than this silence. I wish I could go back, a few days or a week, and find out what I did to mess things up.
I miss her. I'm not afraid to think it, because I'm in the middle of the Games, I'm scared, tired and cold, and my head is messed up. So I don't mind admitting my weakness. It's almost like it helps, having something else other than the arena to focus on, something else I'm fucking up. Back in Two, I'd never let myself get this close. I had so much else, my brothers, my friends, training, school, girls throwing themselves at me; there was no time for thoughts. But here, trudging around not speaking for hours leaves me alone with myself, and there's nothing to distract me anymore.
And now I'm here, I've realised the arena is nothing like I'd imagined. All I want to do is go back to the engineered rehearsals of the Training Centres in Two and the Capitol. I want to go back to where people look to me out of fear and respect, where I'm in control, where it's impossible to get hurt. I assumed in the arena, it would just be like real life, and none of that would go away. But it all has. Turns out real life wasn't even that real. It was my delusion, I was paddling on the surface until it came to the time where I had to dive in the deep end.
"Hey!" A shout comes from the back of the group, and we turn around to face Clove.
"I saw the ginger one from Five!" she calls.
Without even discussing it, we follow Clove as she runs off after the redhead. I'm now thankful we didn't chase after Rue. The girl from 5 is a much bigger threat, and who knows, we might have not seen her if we were off after the little wispy child. Clove's racing ahead, her small frame whistling through the bushes, the others in the back following the brief flashes of red hair.
I watch as Clove hurls a knife that narrowly misses her head. It's flung into the underbrush, but she knows exactly where it is. It only takes a second for her to dip down and pick it up, and immediately, she throws it again, and it hits the back of her neck. The girl crumples to the floor, gasping for breath. Clove slides down next to her and yanks the knife out.
The girl from Five, one of the smartest tributes in the arena, one of our biggest threats, begging for her life on the floor. She should have come out alive.
Where the hell did that come from, I think. I can't think like that. I need to win.
Or do I? A nagging voice in my head won't stop wondering what the cost of winning would be. I look at her on the girl floor dying, taking in the desperate, pained look on her face, the blood coming out of her mouth, the whimpering noise she's making. I think of Rue, her tiny, childlike expression. And Marvel and Glimmer's love for each other, passionate in the heart of ruin.
And for me to win, they have to die. I have to kill them.
"When you're in the arena, it's like killing animals. It's like swatting flies. Your survival instinct kicks in. They are predators, and you are the prey, and they will kill you if you don't get there first. It's up to you, and you only, to take your moment and seize the glory you deserve as a brave volunteer."
That's what they used to say to us in Two.
And I'm starting to realise that it's a lie. This girl isn't an animal or a fly, she's a child, a person, with thoughts and family and ambition. She's dying in front of me so that I can have my glory. The idea of lifelong riches seems like a drop in the ocean compared to what I need to do to get it.
I wonder if the trainers in Two knew they were lying all along. I guess, once we volunteer, there's no turning back. As soon as they persuade us into the arena, they get their paycheque from the Capitol.
"Any last words?" Clove whispers. But she isn't taunting the girl, she's saying it with kindness in her voice.
Suddenly, I shake those thoughts I was having. Those are bad thoughts, and those thoughts won't get me sponsors. They'll get me killed. So instead I summon the version of myself I had before the Games, the cold, ruthless murderer that I presented to the world.
"Say something, for your family. They'll hear it. Say something now," Clove says.
"Clove, get it over with," I say sharply, the words slicing the air like one of her knives.
The girl takes one last breath. "If you win, just tell them I love them. And I'm sorry," she gurgles, and collapses. Clove looks down at her with sadness in her eyes. The cannon fires.
CLOVE POV
I don't know what's wrong with me. That last kill seemed to drain all the life out of my body, leaving me wrecked, desperately promising the girl I would get a message to her family.
I want Cato back. I don't care about whatever happened in the Capitol, I don't care that we kissed. I don't want that. All I want is for him to speak to me, as a friend, to help me and try to understand me, just like he did back then. And I'd do the same. I know I didn't make it easy for him, but he made an effort, and now I'd be willing to do the same. I've been leaning on Glimmer for support for the last couple of days, especially since she's now living her dream, back with Marvel.
Thing is, when I look at Cato, I see home. I see the echoes of Two. I know he has the same memories as I do of our District, training, school, everything, even though they aren't shared. I know he's probably feeling the same way I am. Confused as to why we volunteered for this shit, helpless pawns for the Capitol, desperate for the winnings that Two glorified for years in the Training Centre. I don't even care that part of me still wants to kiss him. That's child's play, and it doesn't matter anymore. All I want is to hold onto home.
But things are different. Things won't ever be the same.
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Careers Have Feelings Too | CLATO | GLARVEL |
Fanfiction"The thing is, I didn't expect to be like this," he says. The sunlight bounces off his golden hair, and it seems as if it's glowing. "Didn't expect what?" He smiles coyly, and all at once he seems more sure of himself than ever before. "I went wro...
