Thank You, Girl on Fire {Cato's Story}

Part 3---Chapter 11---Clove

Chapter 11- Clove

A frightened cry sounded from someone near our supplies.

“Cato!” she screeched. “CATO!”

I began to sprint with everything I had toward the Cornucopia. “CLOVE!” I yelled, feelings suddenly surfacing and beginning to think again. Was she being killed? What was happening?!

When I made it to the clearing, I saw the Girl on Fire scrambling away with blood dripping down her face, her feast bag in her hand. She crashed into the woods, and was gone before I could process anything. Clove was lying, still breathing rapidly and moaning, in the grass. The boy from Eleven’s large, hulking figure was sprinting toward the fields, with his feast bag as well as ours. Being the me from just a couple seconds ago, I would’ve gone after them to win. But the old me, the me from when I was ten that only surfaced when I was with Clove, came back. The one with feeling. I bolted to her side, putting my hands on her small arms.

“Clove,” I moaned, tears threatening to spring to my eyes. “No, don’t die,” I whispered. “Stay with me. STAY WITH ME!” I yelled, the pain in my voice causing it to crack and I leaned forward into her and crying into her chest like a small boy. Allowing all the pain and feeling I’d kept bottled up inside me to flow out. She managed to open her eyes a fraction and smile at me. Barely audible, she whispered, “Cato.” Then she went silent and her chest stopped moving.

The one person that made me feel alive was dead.

Bringing pride in the District barely mattered to me anymore.

Thresh, you’re dead, was the only thing that filled my mind. I didn’t even think of the feast bag running from me. I was so enveloped in grief I barely thought of the threat of Twelve as I quickly kissed Clove’s forehead and started bolting into the fields. That was where he stayed, right?  

*****

Weaving my way through the tall grasses, moving too quickly for any animal or snake to snap at me, the anger inside me began to boil. My eyes were bloodshot as I thought of Clove. I stepped on a patch of quicksand but paid it no attention, running over it just like it was normal dirt. The quicksand almost seemed to shrink away from me in fear and let me pass.

I could almost feel fire dancing in my hair as hatred piled up in me. I’d been overtaken in emotion. The only thing on my mind was killing Thresh. Watching him fall, a spear in his chest, getting revenge on him for Clove.

I’d begun to think again. I could think without the headaches. I was reassured I still had a heart and brain left. Clove seemed too eager to destroy Katniss. Her actions too rash.

It sounds stupid, but- It was nice to be able to think again.

Anger, fear, love, boiled up in my chest, rising into my throat and almost causing me to vomit my guts out. It would be fit too, I’d seen so much death and finally come to my senses. But really, was I back to my senses? Maybe I was still the murderer and just seeking revenge. I slapped myself. What the h*ll has gotten into me lately? As rain fell from the sky, I couldn’t tell if I was sobbing my d*mn eyes out or the rain was just sliding down my bloody face.

Can’t hurt me if I cry now, Coach, can you? I thought angrily of all the times he whipped me for crying, for feeling, for being human. I smashed and crashed through the fields, stomping on the heads of rattlesnakes and cutting away at the tall grasses, ready for Eleven. Ready for that son of a b*tch named Thresh. It started to thunder, and I felt like yelling into the dreary, wet, darkness, SERIOUSLY?

The night was coming in, and soon, after just an hour of hunting Thresh, it was dark, and I was forced to stick on the night-vision glasses that the sponsors sent me last night. My sword was ready, stuck out in front of me, and I tiptoed around, because if Thresh truly was in there, I would not give him the pleasure of hearing me approach. I quickly came across a clearing, with a tent and a large tree. I saw that there was some sort of shrub that was under the tree. I stood there, thinking, Thresh made this way too effing easy. It immediately came to me that that night was the first night he stayed there, since the tent was barely up, showing signs of quick assembly. Some other nights, I’d heard someone crashing through the trees, and from how loud they were clambering around, I could tell it was Thresh. Everyone had risen from the deafening crashing, but I promised them time and time again that no one was there. It was a game that we played. Like a cat and mouse. Both hiding from the other, all because I didn’t have the heart to kill Thresh. Or maybe, in the words of Coach himself, you save the best for last. But now...when he’d killed the one thing that I learned to love... we played a whole different game.

I was at a standstill, staring or more like glaring, at the shrubs underneath the tree, moonlight casting its shadow over them. And then it all clicked. Those scrubs weren’t any shrubs. Those shrubs were Rue plants.

My heart dropped, making me feel remorse for the first time since Coach killed Sabina and Marcus, and now Clove’s death. I couldn’t move. Thresh was staying out in the open, risking his life so that he could be near the plant that his little girl was named after. But then, an ice cold anger washed back over me, and I sprinted over to the tent. I opened the flap, and sure enough, there was Thresh, sound asleep. He was so still, but I pulled him out the tent despite this. He mumbled and opened his eyes, and then closed them again. His body tensed, and his eyes had snapped open  immediately, understanding what was happening. The fear that was in his eyes was evident. Thresh didn’t give much of a fight. He tried to kick me, but I was too fast for him.

“You deserved this,” I screamed at him, with a menacing glare, plunging my sword through his heart.  

*****

After Thresh’s cannon went off, the rain easily cleaned my sword of Thresh’s blood, but with all the rain clouds, I didn’t get to see the hovercraft pick up Thresh’s bloody body. I ran full steam ahead, plowing through the trees like a human lawn mower. Anything in my way crashed to the ground. Animals around pleaded for mercy. Red rimmed the edges of my line of sight. Blood covered my hands while inside, one thing, and one thing only kept me going.

It was revenge.  

Screw the District I’d never been in until the reaping.

D*mn the gawdd*mn Capitol that played with our lives.

And lastly, eff myself.

I didn’t give a f*ck about if I lived or not.

I had to kill Lover Boy.

I had to kill Fire.

I had to smash Lover Boy to the dust and watch the light fade from his eyes as I killed him.

I had to feel the satisfaction of the crunch Fire’s throat would make as I crushed her, crushed her heart to the wet soil, crushed her until all that was left was dust.

I’d become a madman.

The thought of family, the thought of love, drove me insane. Life was insignificant at that point. Did I deserve to win? Was my past too dark and murderous for me to be normal? To be honored as a victor?

After I killed them, if I could, I would kill myself.

I bolted blindly through the trees, allowing the branches to scratch at my skin to their hearts’ content, and blood started to slide down my face. It was quickly washed away by the rain, but I could tell it was growing thicker and stickier on my forehead.

To think a couple branches might’ve been the end of me.

The clouds slowly parted, and as the light reached me, a cannon went off.