Katniss’ P.O.V.
We were laughing like lunatics on a full moon when Cato came in. He doesn’t even give us a second glance and storms up to his room.
“Who shoved the happiness stick up his ass?” Johanna asks and Gale and Clove snicker.
“It’s not funny guys! This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have played with him!” I exclaim.
“Chill Kat. He just needs to cool down.”
“No! He needs to be helped to calm down. And I am going to do just that.” I start up the stairs when I hear the others talking.
“”Wait Katniss, don-“
“Let her figure this out on her own. After all, we have been friends for years. She’s only known him for a few days.”
It’s true, have only known Cato for a few days. I started school on Friday, got asked out by Gloss that day, went to their house, Cato became my boyfriend and we slept in the same bed. Saturday was when we went to the beach. Today is Sunday. I’ve only known him for three days! Then how is it that I feel like it has been an eternity? Are we moving too fast?
I open the door but hesitate when I hear things smashing. I push my fear away and walk in.
The small droplets of fear turn into a downpour of terror. Glass shards cover the floor, curtains and shredded and strewn on the floor, the bed on the floor with covers caught on the windows and Cato, standing in the middle of this mess, a look that would make multiple children cry and even the roughest guy feel fear towards him. It’s a bad thing I decided to shut the door, now there is no escape.
I quietly make my way to the corner of the room behind him and slide down the pale green wall. Strange noises, like a sob and gasp, make their way up my throat and release themselves into the tense air. Cato hears the noises and turns to me, hammer in hand, and throws it towards me.
It’s like everything is in slow motion. The hammer spinning through the early afternoon sun, Cato’s angry yet shocked look, the tears falling from my eyes. And then everything speeds up as the hammer makes contact with its destination. Me.
The hammer falls to the ground with a barely audible bang as I collapse the opposite way. My eyes are open but I can’t feel my body.
“Katniss.” I hear Cato say but the way his face distorts while speaking tells me he’s yelling, not whispering.
I try to speak or at least let a sound of life out to reassure him but it doesn’t happen. I feel drops cover my right eyebrow and when I look at the ground, there is a dangerous puddle of blood next to my head. Is it my blood? I’m getting dizzy but my eyes are still open, even if they are drooping slightly.
My friends enter the room and stop when they look at me. I feel a light pressure on my right hand which has been thrown when I collapsed in the pool of blood. Cato is pressing my hand so hard that the veins stand out but I don’t feel it. I don’t feel it, I don’t hear it, and I don’t expect it. But when it happens, I know what it is without a second thought. I feel the blackness creep up on me. Or, as others call it, death. I manage to open my dry lips and speak one last sentence.
“I love you.”
The last thing I see is all of my friends, although crying or telling me to stay awake, I happy that I got to see them all one last time before I die. I am happy as my eye lids close.
I forgive and love you Cato. I love you and all our friends. I will see you when I awake from sleeping in death.
