Breaking Down Bridges ▸ Hunger Games

Chapter Twenty-Three: Cato Demeir

Chapter Twenty-Three:

Cato's POV

Wake me up inside

Call my name and save me from the dark

Bid my blood to run

Before I come undone

Save me from the nothing I've become

—Evanescence, "Bring Me To Life"

As soon as I locked eyes with Shawn, the coward darted off in the opposite direction and disappeared into the jungle.

"What's his problem?" I asked and sat down on my sleeping bag.

"Hmm... I don't know, Cato... possibly he's afraid of being eaten?" Cyra snapped.

Before I got the chance to reply, Alia said, "I'm gonna try hunting again. I'll be back... at some point," and then vanished as well.

"I'm gonna go with her," Damian decided and headed off in Alia's footsteps.

Cyra dragged her sleeping bag as far away from me as possible and began sketching patterns out in the damp sand with a knife.

"Whatcha gonna do with that, Fish Girl? Ya gonna throw it at me?" I asked.

She remained completely silent, staring down at the sand, avoiding my glance.

"Nah, I don't think you'd do that. You're too... 'innocent...'"

Still no response.

I grinned widely. "Oh, I get it now. It's the whole 'I'm not gonna talk to Cato 'cause he's gonna eat me' thing, right? Well, Fish Girl, none of this would've happened if it wasn't for you. If your pathetic husband hadn't forced the two of you in the alliance, I wouldn't be forced to do this. And I'm sure you don't understand, since starvation is like your best friend, but I'm from District Two. The Capitol loooooves  us. I don't know a thing about it. So take that into consideration, Fish Girl, before you start judging me. It's your damn fault! I'd be rolling around in sponsors' gifts if it wasn't for you! But, noooo! Instead, I have to go a week without a single thing to eat! And, you know what, I couldn't do that anymore! I couldn't take it! So I did the only thing possible to stay alive!"

"But it's wrong," she replied finally, still not bothering to look up at me.

I glared at her. "Surrre..."

"Cannibalism is wrong no matter how you look at it. And deep down, you know that. It's not my responsibility to fix your problems."

"Maybe not," I said with a smirk, "But it is your 'responsibility' to stay still..."

I took a sword from my belt and twirled it around in my hands. "I wonder if Fish Girl tastes like fish... Guess I'll have to find out..."

"Alia...?" she trailed off, her eyes widening as I inched closer towards her.

"She's not going to save you... and neither will your beloved husband..."

She threw the knife directly through my left shoulder. An even wider grin stretched across my face as I said, "Next time, you might wanna work on your aim." I wiped the blood off the knife with my fingers and tossed the knife back to her.

"I wasn't intending to kill you. In fact, if I were you, I'd keep the fact that I might save your sorry life one of these days in mind. Just remember that before you think about turning me into a meal."

"What're ya gonna save me from, huh?" I snapped, cocking my head to the side.

"I can't tell you. Wait and see."

"Ohhhhh, I see how it is. That's rude, you know, Fish Girl. Apparently, they didn't teach you manners in District Four..."

Cyra knitted her eyebrows together. "And eating people is polite to you, Cato? What is wrong with your head?"

"Lots of things..." I trailed off, laughing hysterically at the mortified look on her face.

"Clearly. Now get lost. I need to work on something," she snapped and continued mapping something out in the sand.

I grinned and smeared her little diagram. "What? You coming up with a plan to find lovely Mr. Wilson?"

Without a single word, she threw another knife directly in my right leg. I groaned and yanked it right out, running my fingers along the bloody blade. "You like knives, huh? Me too. Tell me, Fish Girl, what are knives used for?"

"Killing," she answered immediately, her fists clenched tightly, violet eyes blazing like flames.

I moved even closer towards her with a wide smirk on my face and said, "Think more... conventional  use...."

She raised her eyebrows. "Eating? Is that it, Cato?"

"Oh, well, aren't you clever."

"What can I say... Now if you would excuse me..." Cyra then jumped up from the ground and began walking away from the campsite.

But, within seconds, I had caught up with her. "Why're you running away, Fish Girl?"

"Because I have no interest being around a complete psychopath. Cato, if you keep this up, no one's gonna want to be around you. Is that what you want? To be completely alone?!?"

I laughed slightly. "See, Cyra, that proves just how little you know about me. I've always been alone."

"What about Alia? Do you want to risk losing her, too?"

"Why the hell would you say that?!"

"Are you seriously asking me that question? Her head might not be on entirely straight right now, but she's entirely sane compared to you. Frost blew up her home, Cato! Did you even notice that? Or were you too busy imagining me as a damn steak?!"

I jerked her chin up with my hand and placed the blade of the knife against her neck. "Oh, I get it, Cyra. You think that you're gonna save yourself, right? Think that you can just manipulate me into sparing you, huh? Well, it doesn't work that way. I'm not an idiot and I'm certainly not gonna spare you when you're the only chance I have at survival."

"I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, "But, clearly, you're way past the point of needing help... You're too broken for repair."

"You think you're so brave, dontcha? But in the end, Fish Girl, you're nothing but another dead tribute."

"And you're nothing but a piece in their Games," she spat before she nailed my right eye with her foot and taking off.

She collided with Alia in a matter of seconds, sending the both of them in the wet sand. Cyra yanked Alia up by the hood of her jacket and began rambling things off at her. They remained like that for a while, until Alia made her way over towards me and snapped, "Leave Cyra alone. Got it?"