Burning Heart ~ Cato 2 (Completed)

Chapter Six

I try not to grimace as Octavia quietly tightens my shirt. I can tell by the purse of her lips she is trying to snap at me. Her light forest green skin looks sickly under the florescent lighting. Cinna walks in and lightly taps her on the shoulder. She looks peeved and cuts her eyes to him. He whispers a few words in her ear. With an eye roll, she turns and exits the room. As soon as the door closes, Cinna comes in and loosens the top

"Thanks," I wheeze. he lets out a grin.

"It's always amazed me. For someone who grew up in such poverty, you definitely are large boned," He says with a smile. I sense the tease in his voice. 

"It's genetic," I say mock-defensively. He gives me a grin.

"Of all of the shirts I offered, this is the one you chose?" Cinna asks as he looks at me in the mirror. I shrug.

The shirt differed from all the others, in which it was pure black in color. It was a turtleneck with sleeves that reached my elbows. Cinna finishes loosening it and ends up just taking the belt off my waist. 

"Are you sure shorts are okay?" I ask looking down at my legs. 

"For District 11, yes," He says. 

"It's time," Haymitch says, peeking into the room. I nod and turn to Cinna.

"Honor her," He says, and I nod. As I walk away, he calls out. I turn around, he pins something to my shirt. When I look down, I am shocked that it's not just my pin, but it's a woven version. Tears prick at my eyes as I mumble my gratitude. 

No one welcomes us at the station, only armed guards. Cato comes out after me, and I watch as he visibly shifts from the sweet guy I know, to the cocky pretty bad boy the capitol made him. I roll my eyes and turn back to the armored car they are all but shoving us into. As the door closes, Effie huffs.

"Hmf, you would think we were all criminals," She says in her pinched tone. Cato snorts. Cinna, Haymitch and I all glance wearily at each other. If only she really knew.

We enter the District 11 justice building, and the piercing and the lingering smell of rot, mildew, and poverty fill the air. They give us no chance to look around, and in an instance, we are on a stage, looking out at the angry and solemn faces of District 11. Immediately, I look at the fallen tribute's families. Thresh's side only has two people, an older, feeble woman, and his sister. She looks similar to him and carries his fight in her eyes. I force myself to look at Rue's family, and my entire body freezes over. 

Her parents stand protectively over her 5 younger siblings. All of them have dazed, and sorrowful gazes. They all look like her, a flock of mockingjays.

The mayor's speech causes me to rip my gaze away, and Cato lightly touches my arm. I give him a nod, and his worrisome eyes turn back into proud ones. Two little girls come and give us bouquets of flowers. I can't help but notice that mine is the same flowers I layed Rue to rest with. 

Cato gives his speech, but all eyes are not on him but are on me. Then, Cato's words finally run through my brain, and it seems as though the whole district slowly looks at him for the first time.

"I didn't know Rue or Thresh, but I owe them my sincerest gratitude. They kept Ashlynn alive when I couldn't, and I am forever grateful. I will never be able to repay this debt," He finishes and looks straight forward. My stomach sinks as I realize it is my turn. Before I can speak, Cato adds more.

"As a token of my thanks, the families of the district 11 tributes will receive one month of our winnings every year for the amount of time we live," He says and looks at me. Murmurs fill the crowd as they see him in a new light. While I am proud of him, I can't help but know that this deed is actually illegal. The Mayor gives us each a large plaque. The ceremony begins to end without me speaking, as Cato's gift took my time. I lock eyes with Rues nine-year-old sister, and in her brown eyes, I know what I have to do. I have to thank Rue. 

"Wait!" I cry and the Peacekeepers begin ushering us off the stage. I shift from the girl from the seam to the Mockingjay. 

"I said, wait!" I command, and the Peacekeepers freeze in shock at my voice. I turn back to the crowd beginning to disperse.

"Please, wait," I ask into the mic. The crowd casts their scornful attention to me. I turn down to the two broken women standing by Thresh's picture.

"I spoke to Thresh only once, long enough for him to spare my life, long enough to understand his drive. I never knew him, but in that short conversation, he garnered my respect. And that is hard to do." I know as soon as the next words, I was about to make my first official sign of rebellion. "I respected him for his refusal to play the Capitols games." Gasps fill the crowd.

"If he had to play, he was going to play by his rules. He may not have won the game, but he won the war. The careers wanted him, but he wanted to win the right way, not the glamorous way. And, I respect him for that."

Thresh's grandmother finally looks up, and a smile plays at her lips. I look to his sister who gives me a grateful nod. The crowd his so silent, all I can hear is the wind. I finally cast all my focus on Rue's family.

"But I knew Rue. I know that I will never forget her. At a young age, I became an only child, and I feel as though, in the arena, she filled that hole. In the innocence of nature, I see her. I see her in the soft yellow flowers I have in my hand, in the ones that grow by my house. I see her more than anything in the Mockingjays." I try my best to convey with her family what I am saying. I step to the edge of the stage and ignore the Peacekeepers warning me. I set my plaque down and unpin my woven Mockingjay. I lean down and hand it to Rue's little sister, and mumble the words that have haunted me since the arena.

"For Rue," I then stand and address the whole crowd. "Thank you all for your children, and more than anything, thank you for your bread. It came at a needed time." I bring myself to my full height and stand tall as I had been taught. Silence once again fills the air, and it happens.

The ominous four-note whistle Rue taught me fills the air. My trained eyes zero in on the whistler. A frail yet determined old man in a whistle stares at me. Then it happens, and it's no secret it's not an accident. In solid unity, every person from District 11 lifts and presses their three fore-fingers to their mouth, and raises them up. It's Rue and mines sign. The one I said goodbye with. I lift my head high and replay the sign. 

I can hear warning bells screaming in my head. 

As if my speech wasn't bad enough, I finally started a movement. 

A voice whispers in my head, warning me of their danger, but all I can see is Rue's determined eyes locking with mine. 

The mayor quickly takes over and Peacekeepers quickly lead Cato and me away. A sinking feeling drains me, and I stop.

"Ashlynn?" Cato asks. 

"I forgot my bouquet and plaque, I will be right back," I say. The Peacekeepers rush to stop me, but I rush into the bright sunlight. The sight I see will now be drilled into my head. 

The first official death of the rebellion. 

"No!" I cry and die forward, ready to save the man. The Peacekeepers position the man that whistled on stage, and force him to his knees, facing the crowd. The world slows as a Peacekeeper drags me back, and a trigger is pulled. I watch as the bullet sails through the back of his head. He slowly crumples to the ground, and his head turns to me. 

I scream, and rush forward.

"Ashynn Quarry," A males voice commands. I turn to him, anger dripping in my veins.

 But, instead of seeing his eyes, I see the barrel of a gun, pointing into my face.