A/N Long time now see everyone, I'm back with a new fic. I've decided to start a new fic since I got stuck with FLaM,SLaTJ, but I do plan to return to it by kind of starting over with it. I will try to at least update once a story deals with domestic violence, so you have been warned. Please fav review and follow. And lastly I'm looking for a beta especially with this fic since it deals with a serious subject matter and I want to do it right so if you're interested send me a pm.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games
I wake up in a cold sweat after having another dream about my father's death. I groggily rub my eyes awake to see the time on my bedside alarm clock. The vibrant, blocky numbers tells me it's 5:30 in the morning. I then become aware of Cato's muscled arm wrapped possessively around my waist. I carefully shimmy myself out of his embrace, hoping that he won't wake up. Thankfully he only lets out a loud huff and turn on his other side. I know from experience that he doesn't like to be woken up before his alarm goes off.
I silently pick out my outfit for today, a short sleeved, white ruffled blouse and some black suit pants, and lay it out on my side of the bed. I then go into the restroom and start up the shower. As I let the shower heat up, I look at myself in the mirror. I'm only wearing a thin white tank top and old boy shorts, so they don't do anything to hide the bruises and "love" bites that mar the skin around my intimate areas and torso.
It's sad to say, but I've grown use these injuries, the only thing I haven't gotten use to is the look in my eyes. I remember my eyes use to be a vibrant grey color, some would even say they were silver, which held so much life and fire in them. Now they are a dull grey color that only holds fear and sadness.
My parents' union was a whirlwind romance; it all began when my mother was attending the local university to become a nurse. My father was working at the university as part of a construction crew working on a new building for the campus.
My mother came from a wealthy family; her parents believed their daughter should be with someone of their social standing not some lowly laborer. But as the story goes my mother met my father one day as she was walking from a class. My father's crew was on a break then, so to pass the time my father would sing songs requested by his coworkers.
My mother says that my father's voice was so enchanting that anyone nearby would stop to listen, which incidentally happened to her. She says that once he finished his song his eyes seemed to inexplicably land on her, and as they say it was love at first sight for them. My parents secretly started a relationship with each other throughout my mother's college years. It was kept hidden since if her parents ever caught wind of their relationship they would have cut her off. But once she graduated my father eagerly proposed to her for which she happily accepted despite being disowned by her parents.
Even though they faced many hardships in the beginning of their marriage, my parents love and devotion for one another helped them overcome any obstacles that came their way. Then on their first year of anniversary, my mother surprised my father with the news of her their first pregnancy. I was born on May 8th 1989; I was the spitting image of my father with some of my mother's features.
Most people would think that a father would be slightly disappointed about having a daughter first, but my mother said my father was overjoyed when I was born since he always wanted daughters as beautiful as his wife. Then four year later our family was complete with the birth of my sister Primrose, or Prim. Prim took after my mother in personality and looks, but when it came down to it Prim and I were daddy's girls.
Our father would always make time for us no matter how tired or stressed he may be. Be it cheering for us at school events or sharing his love of nature with us through the occasional camping trips. All in all my father was the glue that kept our family, so it devastated us when he died.
I was seventeen then, just recently finishing my junior year, when a police officer came to our house one early Saturday morning. All I remember is me being woken up by a scream of pure anguish and having the feeling that something horrible happened to my dad. I then rushed out of my room to see my mother sobbing heavily on the floor of the front door while an officer unsuccessfully tries to comfort her. It seems that as my father was going to work he driven over a patch of black ice causing him to lose control of the car and hit an oncoming semi. At the funeral I remember having to comfort my mother and Prim as they sobbed against me. Resigning myself to be the strong one for my family, I did allow myself to release a few tears for my great and loving father though.
People say that death brings everyone together, but in our case it caused our family to slowly drift away from one another. Mother fell into a deep depression. She would sit in the old rocking chair that faced the window in our living room, as if she were waiting for my father to come home. I took it upon myself to become the provider for my family as my mother wallowed in her sadness. Luckily though she snapped out her depression when school started for Prim and I, but she became a shadow of her former self.
My once close relationship with Prim deteriorated as she engrossed herself with clubs and friends to fill the emptiness that my father death left. Unlike Prim I had withdrawn into myself. Dedicating my time to work and school for the purpose of going to college out of state in order to escape the place that reminded me too much of my father.
I did manage to gain enough money and scholarships to allow myself attend the University of Washington. When I found out the school had a few summer classes open, I readily enrolled into one in order to leave as soon as possible. Despite leaving home for an indefinite amount of time, my goodbyes with my mother and Prim weren't the emotional affair I thought it would be. But on the plane I did shed a few tears for the place that held so much wonderful memories.
My first year of college I was dedicated to my time to studying and work instead of partying or gaining the "true college experience." But in the middle of my sophomore year, my roommate started to get "concerned" about my hermit behavior so she decided to introduce me to her friends. All I can say that they were a tolerable group, so I would go out with them when I had absolutely nothing to do. It was one particular outing where I met my future boyfriend/tormentor.
Ugh I can't believe I let them convince me go to this stupid frat party, I thought as I took another sip of my warm beer. I turned in an important paper earlier this week, so I thought I would let out some steam by going out with Cashmere and her friends tonight. But the only thing that seemed to be happening tonight was this big frat party for which I unenthusiastically agreed to come along to. Once we got here though Cashmere and her friends immediately dispersed either to flirt with some guy or to get a drink leaving me to myself. Now I was standing in a particularly empty corner mindlessly watching a beer bong game. I was playing with the rim of my cup when shouts of victory caught my attention. It seemed that a jock looking blonde guy and his lanky, brown headed friend just one a game. Then by chance the blonde and I caught each other gazes. He gave me a cheeky wink while I just rolled my eyes in response.
I then finished my beer and decided to get one more refill before I go. As I'm pumping the keg I hear someone behind me say, "Nice ass." I immediately turn around to insult the person, but stop dead on my tracks when I'm face to face with blonde guy from before. I have to admit he is attractive with his nice toned body and cobalt blue eyes, but I'm put off by the cocky attitude radiating off the guy.
"Screw off," I muttered loud enough for him to hear. "I rather screw you," he cheekily replied. I immediately decided I can't be around this guy any second longer so I turn around to leave, but he suddenly grabs wrist causing me turn around and readying myself to slap him. He immediately puts his arms up in defense and says, "Sorry. Sorry. I'm sorry for being a dick."
I'm surprised to hear some honesty in his voice, making me stop to listen what he has to say.
"My name is Cato. Cato Jakobs," he introduces himself while sticking out a large hand. I tentatively shake his hand and reply, "Katniss. Katniss Everdeen."
"Katniss. That is a unique and pretty name." Then surprisingly Cato and I fell into an easy conversation. We had similar taste in music and movies, and he liked the outdoors too. We also shared what we were majoring in and what we planned to be in the future. At the end of the night he asked me out on a date, but I declined citing that I don't date. His reply was that he always gets what he wants, and for someone odd reason I was happy about what he said. I would eventually agree to a date with Cato after he got how my schedule was like through Cashmere, and because of Cashmere and her friends' constant insistences.
On our date Cato was polite, funny, and respectful, and we easily fell into conversation like before. At the end of the night, he gave me a good night kiss on the cheek and asked for a second date. I agreed to a second and a numerous more after that, eventually we fell into a steady relationship. I grew to care for Cato and he became the first for everything for me.
But once we graduated and moved in with each other in Seattle, Cato began to show his true colors. He started to become increasingly possessive and verbally abuse which I fought back at first, but then they lead into huge, explosive arguments.
Then there was day he first hit me, I remember it being the biggest argument we had yet. And then I'm on the floor with pain radiating from my cheek and Cato apologizing profusely saying he didn't mean to do it and it won't ever happen again. I should have left him then and there, but I was too attached to Cato by then and I didn't have anywhere to go.
Cato has now broken me into where I'm truly a shadow of my former self. But I allow myself to experience the happiness and freedom I could feel when I'm away from Cato at work.
It caught me by surprise that Cato even allowed me to work, but he begrudgingly had to admit that two incomes were better than one. But he still took control where I applied and where would I take the position at. And he has control of all our finances and our single vehicles.
Working at Panem High School was little intimidating in the beginning. But as the students began to warm up to me, and I started to become more confident and enthusiastic about what I was teaching. I formed a few good student/teacher friendships and faculty relationships. Even though Cato rules my life with an iron fist, I still manage to find some happiness in my miserable life.
I snap out of my daze as I begin to notice the rising amount of steam on the mirror. I then strip myself of my clothing and enter the shower. The water is pleasantly warm, but I don't spend time to enjoy it since I have get ready and make Cato breakfast.
Once out of the shower I dry then braid my hair and put on some make up. I then go into the bedroom to put on some undergarments and my outfit. I look at the clock to see it's 6:05 meaning I have 25 minutes before Cato wakes up, showers, and comes for breakfast.
I hear the alarm go off as I'm finishing breakfast, so I make a pot of coffee while Cato showers. When Cato comes into the kitchen freshly showered and clothed, I have a plate of food and a cup of coffee set out for him. He gives me a kiss on the cheek and mutters a good job before he digs in. I silently wait for Cato to finish since he drops me off at work when he goes to work.
When Cato is done, he and I gather our stuff then head to the car. We drive with the radio filling in the silence between us. Soon we arrive in front of the school. I tell Cato when to pick me up even though he hates this, but it's part of me having a job. He then drives off to work. As he drives away, a sense of ease and lightness settle over me.
To Be Continued