There is it, I made it, my first fic about Cato and Clove. This is a promise that I have long forgotten for my friend. So shame of me =="
Hope you will like it. Please read and review!
"Cato!"
"Clove!" - Run. Run. Gotta run.
"Cato!"
"Clove!" - Run! Run faster! Run!
But it was already too late.
There she laid on the ground, lifeless. And blood...
"Clove."
Grief, anger and disbelief... All of those invisible weight put me down on my knee.
The 12 girl had escaped, wounded, but still, she was alive. And the 11 boy. He had run away with their bag. Her bag.
"Clove, c'mon." - Gently as ever, I lifted her up. She looked so fragile, so vulnerable. Where was the Clove I knew? The ever confident Clove, always so strong and and fierce? - "Clove c'mon. Can you hear me? Clove?"- Her eyes gazed over me, distant and lifeless.
"C'mon girl. C'mon! Damn it! Don't you dare give up on me! Don't you dare die on me Clove! God damn it! Answer me!"
Her head fell to the side, the last breath had left. The only sound came from me alone.
"No no no no no! Clove c'mon c'mon c'mon. Please not... Not now! Damn it! We're so close! We are gonna win! God damn it Clove! Don't you give up now! Don' you leave me now!"
But she did not reply. She would never do again. She couldn't feel my shake, coudn't hear me calling her name time after time. She was dead.
Clove was dead.
So early, so young... If only we were in the Capitol... She was still warm, I could still feel it, the familiar feeling that had warmed me up night by night. If only we were in the Capitol... She would not have died, they could have saved her. Of course they could! They were fucking Capitol! They killed people for fun, why couldn't they bring someone back to life?
But we were not. Surrounding us was a fucking forest. There was nothing I could do for Clove.
Her heart had truly stopped. I could no longer feel it anymore.
They knew. Soon enough she would be taken away. It would have been a relief to escaped here, but not the way like this. I did not want us to leave like this. We had a plan. Clove and I, we would both survive, we would both make it to home, we would make District 2 proud of us like never before. It was all planned...
If only there were some flowers, lavanders perhaps. Clove loved them, she once told me that. Some lavanders as my goodbye to the fellow tribute, who deserved more than a cold-blooded murder in an isolated forest, who deserved to live, to laugh, and to be happy...
She deserved much more things than Capitol could afford for her.
A kiss on Clove's swollen forehead, a kiss goodnight. If only she could still have some lingering feeling... If only she could hear... I would say I'm sorry. For many things. I could have kiss her goodnight more. It was nothing, but at least, it reminded her of home and family, where her dad would do that every night to tell her she was safe.
Please let me stay with her a moment longer, please let me hold her in my arm for the last time.
She must have hurt so much. My poor little Clove. I wrapped my jacket around her small body, folded another to make a pillow for her. That's all I could do for you, Clove. Her eyes closed, they would never shine up under the stars again.
Tears strimmed down my face, tears that I didn't know they were there. I didn't cry. Cato doesn't cry. But it would just not stop, those hot tears kept strimming out. The first time I ever kneeled, the first time I ever cried for a girl I met in the Hunger Game.
They took her away like a ragdoll. The forest felt so empty and lonely without Clove, without the feeling that I had at least someone I knew to watch my back.
Clove was dead. She was gone. My last attachment to home has gone. She was the only thing to keep me sane in this arena. Clove reminded me, and herself, of the good things we had. That we had District 2, we had our family waiting for us, that we would have this victory to bring back home. Father, mother, brother, sister, they were all waiting for us, praying for us.
Clove was everything I had here in the arena. Clove was home.
And then, even home was lost.
Who would remind me to think of family tonight?
Who would remind me of Cato tonight?
Who would remind me that I was still human, that I was not a machine born to kill?
Who?
The birds sang again. There was nothing left for me. It was time to hunt.
My vision turned red. Blood red.