The Lost Chance

Chapter Six

[Clove's POV]

I guess it's safe to say that my 14th birthday is the best day of my life. Ever since my dad died when I was nine, I asked my mom not to celebrate my birthday party anymore.

Gosh, that Cato.

I open the box he gave me. Five knives inside, each with their own intricate designs. I flip the blade in my hands and I see my name. I flip it again, and I see his. It's been a year since we've officially met. A year since my stomach gets the butterflies.

"Clove?" Mom enters my bedroom, and I quickly keep the knives. "It's OK, dear. I saw him give it to you,"

"This isn't a dream is it?" I smile as mom sits next to me.

"Well, we're still in poverty," she smiles and takes my hand, "I guess all of this is real,"

"Yeah, I guess too," I sigh contentedly, then I saw mom's look on her face. A look of sadness. "Mom, is something wrong?"

"Clove... you do know Cato can be a bit... mad, sometimes," her brown eyes lock with mine, and I instantly get what she's saying.

She doesn't trust him. All she sees is the monster in him. Even if he did that for me, threw a party for me, still she can't believe there's a good side to him.

"Mom, you don't know him like I do!" I stand up quickly, "He's not a monster, mom. You see what he did for me. For my birthday, he made it so special!"

"I know, dear," she says calmly, "But he's trained to kill,"

"And I'm not? Mom, he's trained to kill for our district!" I counter back, "If it isn't for the Games, he wouldn't be like that!"

"Let's just say you're trained to kill as well," she stands up and takes me by the shoulders, "But do you enjoy it? Do you like hurting people the way he does?"

I stare into those dark eyes of hers that looks so much like my own. I shrug her hands away.

"Maybe I do," I storm out of my own room after picking up the box Cato gives me.

I head out into woods, passing the townspeople making weapons for the Games, or building a new house for a newlywed couple. 

And here I am, not giving a damn all because my mom thinks Cato is a monster. But why should I care, right? It's not like Cato and I are a couple or anything. I doubt Cato even looks at me at that way. I know he doesn't.

After stumbling in the woods, I reach the clearing. Cato's place.

I get out my new knives and stand before the targets.

Clove... you do know Cato can be a bit... mad, sometimes. A knife goes flying straight for the bull's eye.

 I know, dear. But he's trained to kill. A second knife to the second target.

Let's just say you're trained to kill as well, Mom's voice echoes in my head as I send the third knife flying.

But do you enjoy it? I aim for the fourth target as I I throw my fourth knife.

Do you like hurting people the way he does? I let the fifth knife fly.

What exactly do I feel for Cato? I know that I like him, but usually when I like someone I don't get mad when someone insults them. And my mom wasn't even insulting him.

I didn't notice the time. It's pitch black and I can't see the stars. I stand up and look around. I'm not afraid of the dark, really. I just hate not seeing.

I try to make my way through the dark, when I suddenly fall.

"Stupid vines," I mutter as I take out one knife and try to cut the thick ropelike stuff wrapping my leg. A rustle comes from my right and my head snaps towards the sound. "Great,"

I stand up, and carefully make my way this time. I hear a low growl, and before I could even move something large and furry pounces upon me.

From the dim light the moon gives me, I could see it's one of the local butcher's dogs. Its mouth is foaming and its eyes are wild. I slash at the dog, but it jumps back.

Could I outrun it? Probably not, with all these thick roots around. "Nice dog," I say soothingly as I slowly back away, "Good dog,"

But that didn't work. It pounced again, but this time I ran. I fall and stumble upon branches and rocks with a manic dog close behind. I could aim for its head, but I'd probably be bitten before I could even do that.

I fall again, and this time, the dog catches up. "NO!" I scream and close my eyes as the dog lifts its paws and wound my leg.

"CLOVE!" A familiar voice shouts. I hear the rustling of leaves, a sickening slice and a thud as something falls to the ground.

"Cato..." I look at him, then I notice his sword is covered in slick blood. Then I notice the dog's dead body.

"Clove, let's get you home," he takes me shoulder and supports me with his free arm. I do my best not to look at his bloody sword.

"You killed it," I whisper as we wound our way back to my home.

"I promised you I'd keep you safe, remember?" he says, and I'm reminded of the promise I gave him as well.

"I was weak," I smiled to myself, "I couldn't even hurt that dog,"

"Clove, don't say that," he stops and looks at me. I could see the stars now. The moonlight made him look like he's some sort of god. "You're not weak."

"I'm not strong, Cato," I feel tears starting to come, "I'm not like you!"

"Why would you want to be like me?" he asks, and I remember what mom said earlier that day. She said he's a monster. "When you're fine just being yourself,"

He said it so quietly, his face so serene, graceful, so - I don't even have the right words to describe him.

"Because you're strong," I take his hand, "When it comes down to it, I would never be able to protect anyone. I'd never be able to protect you,"