TWISTED // Clato | ✓

Chapter 28: The World Turned Upside-Down

A/N: Happy birthday to Isabelle Fuhrman!!! <3 I can't believe she's 18!!!!!!!

Warning: This chapter ends on a cliff hanger

CATO'S POV:

War. I can feel it in the air.

Although, the air's been pretty close inside my chamber for a long time. I can't breathe in here anymore. Strange unidentified smells drift all through the hallways of the asylum and I can't stand it. Especially now that a war is coming; Clove and I know that much. If not now, then soon.

I stand and walk the length of my chamber for the billionth time. The television shows nothing new; just more reports of dangerous terrorist occurrences. Most of the time, it's just frantic reporters trying to make bad news sound not so bad. 

These poor people. They have no idea what they're headed into. I feel my stomach sinking every time I think about what's coming to them.

I stop at the doorway to my chamber. I pull open the normal door and am faced with a portcullis of bars; the outer gate to keep me from escaping into the hallway. I grip the bars with my hands and stare out into the gloom. The muscles in my hands tighten around the iron. I need to break free.

But the gate holds; no matter how much I tear at it with my hands and kick it with my feet. It's a lesson I should have learned long ago; I can't escape.

I, Cato, the fierce, fearsome tribute everyone did not dare cross--I am now trapped like a mouse. 

I press my face against the cool metal and close my eyes. I can't even voice all my regrets for all the stupid mistakes I've made here and everywhere else in every part of my life.

The only thing I've done that I'm sure was not a mistake was falling for Clove.

But who knows; with all I've done wrong, that could just as easily be my first mistake.

I drop my forehead into my hands and just sit there for a long time waiting... What am I waiting for? A certain death? I slide my chin forward onto my hands. My future is uncertain. And wars will begin soon; I know they will. I've seen the signs.

And I'll just be trapped here. Incapable of help. I feel so useless.

And lonely. Every night, I reach out into the darkness, but I find nothing there. The quiet emptiness is so real I can almost feel it. Encasing me in its arms. 

If I stay alone like this, I will actually go insane. Last night, I dreamed that I was outside the ice cream parlor with Clove, holding her hand. That was the one glorious moment of freedom we had when we both knew each other before we were snatched by the asylum. She was so close in my dream--and she seemed so real. Every expression on her face, every move she made--it was Clove through and through. I forgot I was dreaming. I forgot where I was, except that I was there. Her face is all I remember now. Then the dream was shattered to reality and I woke up screaming.

Yes, screaming. A nurse came to check on me, but since they already believe I'm insane, well, what's screaming in the middle of the night to them?

The rest of my dreams that night were inhabited by images of Clove dying in the arena or being shot by terrorists while I lay, tied down, unable to move any of my limbs. I'm haunted. By morning, I felt terrible.

Now I feel exhausted, but I don't want to go to sleep and see Clove in pain again. So I sit in a very unrelaxed position on the edge of my bed and stretch my eyelids open. Eventually, I can't escape it. I fall asleep.

It's the sound of my television that wakes me up. The first thought that comes to me is,"Why is my television on? I didn't turn it on!" I blink my eyes open and stare straight ahead. The screen reads: EMERGENCY SIGNAL REPORT in huge red letters over a staticky screen.