fallen ~ 𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙤

Searching

Cato and I walk down every street in District 2 in search for my sister.

"So, where exactly did you last see her?" I ask.

"Um, just around this corner here." He points over to his house on the corner.

"Did she ever say anything about another guy?"

"No, well, maybe. She said she was meeting her brother at his place one night. She didn't come back till about two or three pm the next day." He says.

"Cato, I don't have a brother." As soon as I say that, he stops walking and lowers his head.

"I-I thought she...she didnt-" he stutters. He seems really upset.

"We will find her." I assure him. I put my hand on his shoulder and look into his beautiful blue eyes.

"Do you promise?" He asks.

"I promise." I cross my fingers behind my back. I can't promise him this. I'm surprised I'm not breaking down as well, she's my sister.

She'll probably come back just like she has that other time. Why am I even worrying so much? I'm sure she's fine.

"Do you want to go back to my house? She'll probably turn up and all this worrying will be useless, come on." I tell him and we begin walking again.

"Yeah, I bet you're right." He says, he even manages to smile. Then he locks his arm around mine and I feel like the weight of the world is balancing out on our shoulders.

When we get back to my house, I suddenly remember something.

"Training! I have to get to the training academy. Feel free to raid our cabinets." I say and tie my hair up.

"Can I come with you?" He asks.

"If you want, I don't leave until six so just tell me when you're leaving okay?"

"Leave? I'm staying the whole time. I won't leave you. I may even train myself." He smirks and pulls up the collars on his gray coat. It makes him look daring to do the impossible. That's how I feel when I train.

When we reach the training academy, I head straight for the knives. When I reach the shelf, something isn't right. I have sixteen knives, there are only ten here.

"Cato?" I say and turn around. He has a sword in his hand and is hacking off body parts to a dummy, muscles flexed . . . abs under his shirt . . . I get lost deep into thought when he looks at me. He must see the stupid expression I have on my face because he begins grinning uncontrollably. I snap back to reality.

"Hm?" He raises his eyebrows.

"I uh, I had sixteen knives yesterday but now there are only ten." I say. He shrugs.

"Eh, maybe someone stole them or else you left them somewhere, maybe in the targets?" He suggested.

"Yeah, okay. I'll check." I take a deep breath and try to calm down. I know they aren't my knives but I'm the only one who really uses them. It's like I have a relationship with them, and if you take them away, I'm just not the same.

The training academy is dark, the skies outside are filled with storm clouds but no rain. There are no lights in the training building because we have sky lights. Only the small, gentle colored lights that are placed above the targets give me light. No one is here either, which really surprises me.

I walk down the path where my knives usually go flying and hurdling towards my targets. As I approach my target I sigh, no knives. I turn back around but I don't see Cato.

"Cato?" My voice echoes through the empty room. No response. I slowly walk down my knife throwing area.

"Cato?" I say again. Then suddenly he jumps out from behind a sword shelf.

"Cato!" I yell and punch his arm.

"Man, you're too easy." He smiles.

"I wasn't scared." I lie, I was terrified.

"Yeah, right!" He jokes.

"Ugh! I hate you, you know that?"

"Oh, Clover, you don't hate me, you are just a. . . mentally unstable person." Right now his sense of humor is sick, I mean, who scares someone like that?

"It's Clove, and I'm perfectly fine." I assure him.

"Whatever, now come on, let's get back to work." He picks up a machete and goes back to whacking dummies and I walk back to my knives. I stroke my fingers across the shiny metal blades. It's an important decision on which one I throw first. If I throw the wrong one, it'll throw me off, and if I pick the right one, all will go well. Finally after a few seconds of playing with them, I take one and hold it in my hand. I stare at it for a second before my eyes catch sight of two eyes staring at me from behind a shelf. I turn around to see if it's Cato. It's not him, Cato's still training. I turn back and face it again.

It's gone.