The Mentor. (Cato Hadley)

Chapter Twenty-Two.

All original because this is one of the chapters that got deleted lol

I accepted my place in the Second Rebellion, and all I have to do now is hope that Plutarch Heavensbee can make good on his promise to get Cato out alive. There are five tributes left now, Cato, Fynch, Thresh, Katniss, and Peeta. Cato is supremely outnumbered, and all I can do is hope for the best. I hope that if Cato does die, he goes quickly, and while I know the sacrifice I may have to face, I know I can't keep watching children die for sport.

"Are you ever going to tell me your plan?" I say to Plutarch, glaring at him as he stands across from me in my bedroom. "You had Haymitch give me this, how do I fit into all of this? Why is it so important that I'm involved?"

"I don't feel as though I'm the one to tell you all the answers, Marblyn, as I may not have the correct ones." He sighs deeply before looking over at me. "I think your mother may have the answers that you're looking for."

"I have no idea when - or even if - I'll ever see my family again, I kind of screwed that up when I decided to join your rebellion, one that might not even happen. I hope you know how much I'm putting on the line for an uncertainty." My words seem to spark Plutarch Heavensbee's attention, causing him to look down at me with what almost feels like curiosity.

"I assure you, Marblyn, we'll try our best to get your family out of District Two as unscathed as possible," he seems to believe his words, although I take them with a grain of salt.

"You seem to do a lot of that, assuring me that you'll try your best," I'm fierce with my words, unable to hold back. If I'm going to put my full trust in this, if I'm going to sacrifice everyone I ever loved for this, I need to know if it's really worth it to him.

"I'm sorry that's all I can do, I can't make any serious promises until we know we have an official start to the rebellion, and to ensure that, Katniss has to win." The words cut like a knife as he reminds me that Cato may not come out of that arena, something I am very much worried about. I dread the time when the Hunger Games end this year, solely because of the uncertainty of it all.

"I just need you to make one promise. I understand Katniss has to win, but I need you to do whatever it takes. Manipulate whatever you have to, send any client you can to me, I don't care.. I really need Cato to come out of this alive." I don't recognize the desperation in my voice, something I've never heard from myself before.

"All I can promise is my best, Marblyn Blue," I'm taken aback by the use of my rarely ever used middle name, one that I hardly recognize anymore.

"How did you know my middle name? I don't make it a habit of using it all that often," I have never spoke of my middle name to a soul. Not Finnick, not Johanna, not even Cato. Never once have I ever spoke of the name.

"I know more than you could ever imagine, Marblyn," that's what he leaves it as as he walks out the door. Names of tributes aren't really broadcasted all that often, and when they are, it's rarely more than a first name. The only time last names are involved is when they meet the families of the top eight tributes. I know my father wouldn't speak about me, he barely even acknowledges me, but what does my mother know that I don't?

I could, however, measure what I do know. I have never met my maternal grandfather, I don't even know his name. My mother has mentioned that she's never met him either, as he died shortly after getting my maternal grandmother pregnant. She doesn't have much information on the matter, and if she knows more than she let on she refused to tell me.

She did know her father had been a Peacekeeper, sentenced to one of the districts. Which district, she was unsure, but after his death, his father paid a lot of money to have her and her mother moved into the Capitol. When my mother was five, her mother married my step-grandfather. Thirteen years later, she met my father, and was sent to live with him in District Two. Since then, we've lived in District Two, and have been there for almost thirty years. My mother never mentioned her family again after explaining this to me, viewing it as too hard to think about since she gave up her right to talk to them when she chose to move to the districts.

I walk into the bathroom, sending my fist through the glass of the mirror. So many questions, and absolutely zero answers to any of them. If I was able to talk to my mother right now, I would, but I doubt I would get anything out of her. I doubt she would even answer me.

Blood streams down my hand onto the pristine white tile, covering the floor around me in a sea of red. "What the fuck," I gasp, gripping the porcelain sink as I slide down onto the floor. "I just want this to end, why the hell can't this just fucking end."

Not only am I worried about Cato's fate - a fate that I most certainly sealed - I'm worried about my family, what Snow is going to do to get back at me when he realizes what I have done. I'm worried about whether or not I made the right decision, if Plutarch's plan is actually going to work. I want more answers, about my lineage, which District I'm truly from.. because now that I have finally thought about the fact that I might not have the lineage of District Two, I realize that I don't think that Two is where my loyalties lie anymore anyway.