Bloody and Broken (Clato)

Epilogue

Note: this has nothing to do with How to Regret! I just decided to write this little bit since I'm taking SO long on BBBR! I also think you guys could use a little treat...so here we go!

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Two years. Two, agonizingly long years since Clove had...passed, shall we say? Cato felt the same dragging feeling in his stomach day after day. Guilt. It never got better. In his mind, his brutal mind, the entire thing had been his fault. Her blood was on his hands. If only he had been more careful, or smarter, even faster. Could it have been avoided?

The blonde boy forced himself out of bed, and sluggishly walked to the washroom. Splashing cold water on his tired face, his mind became just a little bit more alert. Not much, though. He was accompanied by a splitting headache, courtesy of the night's drinking he did.

Simply, there was no other way to handle Clove's death. But if, he could just...forget it, even for a little bit, he would. Where and how had he gone so wrong? If only he hadn't gotten attached to her. If only he'd been more disciplined. If only...

Now in the kitchen, Cato opened the fridge which was always stocked with a supply of alcohol. He needed to forget. Always needed to forget.

The heartbroken boy may be a drunk, but he was nowhere near stupid, in a sense. He knew what everyone was thinking. He knew they were comparing him to that disgusting excuse for a victor from District Twelve. "History repeats itself, " they'd said.

Though, did he care? Not one bit.

Deep inside, he knew it was wrong. Then again, he was just a shell of what he once was, right? Clove gave him life. And without her, what was he? Nothing.

The dragging feeling in his stomach made another round. Horrible as it already was, sometimes the guilt got even worse. When they were worse, all he could do was drink away the pain. Forget. Even for a little while.

Flinching as he heard a sudden knock on the front door, he set his now almost empty bottle on the kitchen counter.

He let out a huff of air as he braced himself for the sunlight that was about to hit him. Training his bloodshot eyes on the figure in front of him, he squinted.

"What do you want?" he drawled, shielding his eyes from the sun.

A petite blonde stood in front of him, not a hair out of place. Blue eyes that matched the clear sky, and perfect, pale pink lips. Clove would hate her.

The girl cleared her throat. "Cato, I presume? My name's Bethany - it's a pleasure to meet you."

Smiling, she extended her hand for a shake, then awkwardly lowered it when Cato made no move to respond.

"Anyway...I'm here because...well, " she began, "when I first started my training, you were two years ahead of me. I looked up to you. You were my inspiration. You were strong in every single way. We may not express it, but everyone here in Two...we're a little worried."

Cato scowled. Did she actually think he cared what she thought? He folded his arms over his chest. "What's your point?"

"You can't keep letting yourself go. Sure Clove's-"

"Don't say it, " he spat, looking her straight in the eyes.

Regaining her composure, Bethany closed her eyes for a second and pinched the bridge of her nose. "We all lose people we love. It happens. You can either choose to let that experience strengthen you, or you can let it ruin you."

In response, Cato simply rolled his eyes. He had enough problems on his hands and - shouldn't he be drinking right now? He had things he needed to forget. Certain things this girl thought she could pull off like band aids.

As a last attempt to knock some sense into her old idol, she narrowed her eyes. "Look at yourself. Really take a long look at yourself in the mirror. Do you think Clove - yes, I said her name, would want this for you? Do you think she'd want you drinking yourself to death? No. She'd want you moving on with your life. She would want you to live, not just go through the motions. I'm going now - but just, think about what I said."

With that, the small blonde turned and walked down the sidewalk, not sparing him a look back.

Cato immediately shut the door and ran his hands over his face. He began to do the only thing he knew how to do anymore. Drink.

But something stopped him for once.

Gingerly, he put down the bottle. He couldn't do it anymore. As much as he hated to admit it, that annoying blonde was right. This...this wasn't living. And it wasn't what Clove would want for him. He knew that.

How could anyone expect him to cope with his loss? How could anyone understand?

Feeling as if his whole world was beginning to crumble, he sank to his knees where he was, and let out a shaking sob.

All the emotions he was too stubborn to let out, all the thoughts he poured into his drinking, it all came out. All in tears.

Cato was a mess. He knew that, too. He could get better, though. He would. Not for anyone who looked up to him, not for the Capitol, who probably enjoyed his pain, not for the people in Two. Not even for himself. But for Clove.

Only for Clove.

~

Note: I really hope you enjoyed this! Remember, it has nothing to do with How to Regret (that is discontinued, so if you're just now hearing about it, I suggest NOT reading it.) anyway, if you have your OWN epilogue for Bloody and Broken, I would LOVE to read it! Make sure to tag me in them so I can check it out. Also, I know this is short. It's just a simple epilogue. So, yeah.