| A Twisted Fate ❀ Cato Hadley |

Last Day of Training

 Chapter 6

Last Day of Training

Quiet people tend to have the loudest minds.

Rosalie
I stand there, silent and mixed with a various assortment of emotions. I don't bother replying to him, I merely suck it up, and pursue my best attempt at hiding my fear. Don't freak out, don't freak out, don't freak out. There's tributes watching you. Don't freak out. I continuously chant that over and over in my head. Think of Leo. What would he do? I steady my breathing while digging my fingernails roughly into the palms of my hands. He would've probably punched him. I laugh ever so slightly at that thought. Leo didn't easily back down with things like that. He once knocked a boy into his school's swimming pool, during PE. All I know is that the boy insulted him, and he just lost it. Leo never did respond to things like that very well. When we lost dad, he's constantly been on edge. It's not his fault.

The slingshot station is the only one that's empty. I don't want to deal with the attention of nosy tributes. Out of boredom, I start to stare up at the ropes station. The boy from District 12 is currently climbing it. When he falls, I see the three other Careers laughing teasingly at the poor boy. They must think of him as easy prey. Cato must think of me that way, now.
The girl from his district rushes over to his side, whispering something discreetly, before he stands back up. I continue to watch him, intrigued as to what's about to happen. He grabs one of the weights nearby, which looks like it weighs at least eighty or ninety pounds. And then, he swiftly chucks it over at the rack filled with lightweight spears, toppling them over in a loud crash. My eyes flicker over to the rest of the Careers. They're not laughing anymore.

"Are you okay?"

I would've expected a question like that to come from Marvel, but the voice didn't match his at all. They sounded way younger than him, and not as rough, either. I tilt my head to the side, seeing a young boy come into my view. He was pale, with freckles dotting over the bridge of his nose, and curly red hair. I instantly knew him as the kid from District 4. The twelve year old boy.
He had a stare that was so gentle, and completely different from everyone else around here. Most children are that way. Harmless, and innocent. I'm not sure if I was ever that way. From childhood, I'd immediately experienced two deaths of my family. I never had time to play outside, or hang out with my friends. I was always just... In pain. It was as if there was just an empty void deep in my chest.

"I am, thanks." I reply, matching his tone. There was one thing that plagued me, though. Why wasn't he afraid of me? Not that I want him to be, but it's strange. There are tributes older than him, who even avoid being within five feet of me. And now here's a twelve year old, casually making conversation with a District 1 Tribute.

"That boy... Why did he yell at you? Aren't you friends?" He asks curiously, sitting across from me. I think of the right way to answer that question.

"We had our differences. And we're allies, not friends... But, I'm not sure if we're still even that." I mutter the last part, focusing on the small pebbles in my right hand.

"Oh. I'm sorry." I'm suddenly reminded of my siblings. How kind and caring they sound, a lot like him.

"No, it's fine," After a few seconds of silence, I make a hasty decision to talk further on with the boy. "I'm Rosalie." I say, cautiously reaching my hand out to him. He stared at my hand for a moment, as if he were thinking it over. I'd be a little confused, too, if a Career tribute was being polite to me.

"I'm Troy. That's Marina, over there. She's not my friend, either." The way he said it didn't seem to effect him at all. He said it in a way that he was already used to it. I felt sorry for him... The one thing that I did know of, was feeling alone. It's ironic, how one thing I have in common, is with a kid. I force a small smile upon my lips, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Well, seeing as we both don't really know anyone else, what do you say to us being friends?" Troy looks shocked at my suggestion, before returning the same smile as mine.

"That sounds good."

Cashmere would shun me for even associating with a twelve year old Tribute. He's from a Career district, although he's just not as advanced as the others are. When I was reaped for these Games, I didn't know what my cause was for. Now I know that I hadn't made a mistake when I volunteered for that young girl. I did it to save her the agony of trying to survive, and kill other Tributes as well. She doesn't deserve to be traumatized at such a young age. It makes me content, thinking that she's safe and sound with her family. Maybe that's why I'm here. So I can at least try and help another person. I know that what I'm doing is risky, and there's only a 50/50 chance of me surviving, while attempting to help another tribute survive, but it's worth it. It's something to stand for.

For the next hour, I spend it at the slingshot station, talking to Troy about our home lives. He's an only child. I can't even bear to think of how his parents must feel.
His father works as a fisherman, which is a common job in their district. His mother works alongside him as a deckhand. They had a home right near the sea, which sounds peaceful to me. Getting to listen to the waves every night, and the smell of fresh air and sea salt. He'd said that the storms were pretty terrible, though.

Explaining my life to him was like telling a story. It starts out like a fairy tale, although there are some tragic parts. Nonetheless, I can't complain about it. I had things that other children didn't grow up having. It wouldn't feel right to sulk and whine about it.
Marvel As lunch time rolled around, the curiosity of what happened between Cato and Rosalie bothered me, more than I really expected it to. I didn't see what caused the yelling and the threats, but my guess is that it must've been something real bad.
The table is still occupied with four of us- only now instead of Rosalie sitting beside me, it's the District 4 girl. Clove seems to be getting along better with her, than she did with Rose. I'm a bit surprised at how menacing 4 is acting. I can't decide if that's her true persona, or if it's all for show. Cato talks about how pathetic the kid from 6 is, since he stolen his knife and wouldn't admit it.
In the far left corner of the cafeteria, I spot the familiar, wavy red hair of Rosalie, sitting across from a small boy. The boy from 4. At this point, I'm oblivious to what her motives are. Was she even still in the Pack? Or has she just completely lost her mind, and teaming up with little kids, now? Either way, I had to find out what went on that caused this.

"Hey, just wondering, but why isn't Rosalie here with us?" I ask him in a casual manner, taking a drink of water.

"Well, Rosalie thinks it's okay to disrespect her fellow peers with that smart-mouth of hers."

"What? It couldn't have been anything that terrible, I mean, she's her." As I said that, I didn't mean it the way it sounded. She's quiet and too nice to everyone, if you ask me, but I couldn't picture her doing anything that I (or the other Careers, for that matter,) would do.

"Looks can be decieving, 1."

"Lighten up, she's not all that bad. People make mistakes and say stupid things, that's just how it is sometimes. Give her a second chance, and I'm sure she won't screw up again." I made my best attempt at convincing Cato to let her back in. Cashmere and Gloss wouldn't be too happy to hear that she got thrown out of the group. And I actually wanted her to survive, even if it were just for a day or two. It was better than instantly becoming a target and being hunted down during the Bloodbath. I've only known her for a few days, but I want to do all I can to make sure that she doesn't end up getting killed by one of us. She reminds me a little bit of home.

Cato studies me for a moment, evaluating my suggestion with silence.

"Fine. Only this time."