The dark haired threat

Part 19

Hey enthusiastic readers!!
Thank you so so much for all the votes and reads! im so thrilled, it has made me  very happy.i Really do need to start writing more and i hope my writing will improve. so here it is- PART 19 dudes!
Pugs and kisses, enjoy  
Xoxoxox
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I'm scared. Not that the hope of Clover reciprocating my feelings for her is virtually nonexistent but because in this society, in the games- love is the single largest weakness one can have. Love Is a tournament I cannot afford to lose. I feel like my 'double agent' Cover is now a triple and its completely overwhelming.

I can't think about her, it's far too much of a risk but I can't stop myself. The only thing I do that truly takes my mind off her is training with my sword. Christ my sword is beautiful. ugh I don't understand why im so whiny and pathetic these days. sometimes I wish I never even met clover. I hate that they made the training center co-ed these pas few years it has completely destroyed my lack of focus. Clover is a trap from which i can never escape. She is an evil menace- one so cunning she has no idea of my entrapment. there i lay in bed at night and my last resting though is no longer of myself being crowned victor, i desire no more the wealth and glory that will come from murdering others, instead i think of her. I picture her delicate face above mine beneath the moonlight cascading into my room and imagine reaching out to her. Reaching out to her and her reaching out to me and neither one of us never ever wanting to let go. She is my hope But i cannot afford to be naive, not in a society as corrupt and as broken and barbaric as this. The lack of hope and statistical probability for a half decent future on my own let alone with the girl im falling in love with depresses me immensely. On that note i hold my breath, roll over and close my eyes praying to whatever is out there left with both power and humanity that one day, soon, this regime may all be over. I refuse to play pretense with myself by fueling myself with the faith i will wake up and in a mansion somewhere and this will all have been a dream, Ignorance is bliss, ignorance is a luxury and luxuries i cannot afford. 

At the brutal hour of six i awake. Six is ungodly i know but commitment is not optional for me. I despise it here, i need some form of escapism so i've taken to the habit of running for just under an hour every morning. Not only does it generously provide me with valuable therapeutic clearing my head of toxic thoughts time but it also provides a metaphorical means of escapism. Out of District to and into Cato's completely incomprehensible utopia i go. Its geographical location is as improbable as President Snow broadcasting himself voluntarily engaging in the art of gymnastics in a tangerine leotard. It simple cannot be fathomed. Kinda like Clover reciprocating my feelings i guess. Another depressing thought conjured by me at the crack of dawn. Oh today is going to be just splendid i think to myself sarcastically as all of Panem or should i say hell.  

I run then. I run through the scenic meadows, are their appearances also fake? Artificial nature wouldn't surprise me at all but Snow does like his roses so i guess here there is hope. Irony my hope comes from the one person id like to kill the most. I speed up as i conjure the image in my head of his heart in my hands. Psychopathic thoughts are justified here. Bullshit. Psychopaths are never justified anywhere, especially here. I run some more and think Clove again; she wont escape my mind, i pick up the pace and think of my elder brother Rick- what does he think about when he runs? he doesnt do it as much as me. He resists the capitol privately in his own petty ways that like mine will never make a difference but nonetheless we carry on.  Issac pops into my head as i jog past a willow tree, weeping in physical appearance as i feel internally. I think of the day Issac must start the training program , i imagine the day his name is read out to be in the games, i imagine the day i kill the president- the same day as the latter. The thought of my brother, MY LITTLE BROTHER in the cannibalistic hunger games forces my anger into overload. Im running as fast as i can now, my arms pumping so fast my biceps are beginning to ache. my legs with even more speed than my heartbeat. my calves feel like they could fall off at any second but i don't stop and i definitely don't slow down. In this moment i am free. I sprint through the meadows beneath the dark sky, im racing against myself, against time and against the fast approaching rise of the sun as the moon goes to bed. Its arrival is inevitable and there is absolutely nothing i can do to prevent it from happening or slow it down so i can keep this moment to myself for a moment longer but i continue to run anyway. Its silly i know but in this moment i belong to myself again. I seize this and advance my pace. 

im going faster than ever before, thinking of nothing but to keep on going forwards, i turn a corner sharply and impulsively at another willow and CRASH!! im off my zooming legs and onto my bum on the meadow floor with a new found pain in my head.   Before i have a moment to collect myself and comprehend what has just happened i hear his voice " Bloody hell Cato, you really need to start paying attention" and i curse silently in my head. Bailey.