Burning Heart ~ Cato 2 (Completed)

Chapter Eight

"They killed him," I say quietly, staring into the air. Cinna sits next to me, rubbing my back as Haymitch picks up the pieces of the vase from last night. 

"You knew something like that would happen, no rebellion comes without a price," Cinna says.

"Should we be talking about this here?" Haymitch butts in, looking around. 

"Bathroom, I knocked it under the faucet, shorted it out, and threw it out the window," I say without skipping a beat. 

"Smart kid," Haymitch points. I shrug.

"You knew this would happen, Ashlynn," Cinna repeats. I shrug out of his hold and stand, walking over to the window.

"I know. I just didn't expect it to be so soon, so public."

"But it was. We need to keep going, keep you in the public's hearts," Haymitch says.

"And that is not a hard feat," Cinna is quick to add.

"Okay," I say, already dismissing them.

I wave to the door and they share a glance before leaving.

I sight deeply before turning to the trash can. I hear a knock on the door and quickly reach in and fish out one of the shards of glass. Slipping it into my pocket, I open the door. An Avox enters and leaves with the trash can. As soon as she leaves. I head over to the mirror and sit on the ground.

Taking a deep breath, I fish out the glass and raise it. With a single painful swipe, I pull off the ankle bracelet that I've been wearing. It had become too tight and was starting to cut off circulation to my foot. I turn it in my hand, softly smiling. It had three braided strings. One red, one, white, one orange, one yellow. The colors of fire. The orange came from a bracelet Dad wore, the white from Mom's, yellow from Carpenter's, and the red came from my baby blanket. I lift my eyes from the woven flame, and to my reflection. My once bright green eyes were now a dark forest green,  my carrot ginger hair was now a dark rust red. The youthful bags under my eyes were now taught with stress, my undereye circles dark. 

I twist the braid in my hand.

"I'm sorry."

I say it to no one in particular. The words ricochet around the room, settling around me. 

I shake the dark memories beginning to flood my mind away, and stand and head to a car I noticed as we boarded the train. I walk in and head over to one of the padded seats at the end. I sit in silence and stare out the glass window, losing myself in my memories. 

"Why me?" I ask in a soft, unsure voice. My father opens his mouth to speak, but Mom cuts him off.

"Malcolm," Mom says in warning. He closes his mouth and Mom answers instead of him. "Because Ashlynn, you are different more than anyone could comprehend." 

"Come for another lecture?" I ask, sensing the figure behind me.

"Hardly," Cato says as he sits next to me.

"Sorry, thought you were Haymitch," I smile and he returns it.

"It's cool."

We sit in silence for a few minutes before Cato speaks up.

"You know, I don't really know you that well," He says, turning to me. I narrow my eyes in thought, before realizing he was right. 

"Well, what do you want to know?" I ask, leaning forward and resting my chin on my arm.

"What's your favorite color?" He asks. I raise my brow.

"That's what you want to know?" 

"Yes," He says, a glint in his eyes.

"My favorite color," I ponder for a second. Then it hits me, "Green."

"Green?" He asks and I nod.

"Yours?" This time he ponders.

"Red," He decides. A grin crosses my face.

"How predictable," I laugh.

"Okay, your turn," He mocks angrily nudging my leg. 

"How many siblings do you have? If any?" I ask. He sits in silence for a second before answering.

"I had one," He says, his voice the most vulnerable I've ever heard.

"The games?" I ask him. He nods. 

"The 66th," Cato says and his voice cracks. 

"Valarie Hadley?" I ask him.

"Yeah."

"But the last names," I start and I notice his shoulders tense.

"I changed my name after she died. You'll understand when we get to 2. I wanted to distance myself from my parents," He says, staring out the window. I scoot closer to him and rest my hand on his. He looks in my eyes and smiles sadly. We enter a tunnel and the car darkens. A bright flash fills the car and I look past Cato. 

Spray painted on the concrete of the tunnel is a red and yellow Mockingjay. My chest tightens and I visibly jump. Cato notices my discomfort and turns around, but it's too late. The door opens and Haymitch enters. I can see in his eyes that he saw the sign.

"Sorry to interrupt, but it's time to prepare for the district," He says. I give Cato a quick peck and follow Haymitch, forcing my hands to stop trembling.