I remember when I was young and in love. I remember watching every small move she made, from tying her hair up to running laps. I remember thinking I'd never get her since she was waaayyy out of my league. The sole reason I thought that was because her father had so much money. That was cool I guess, but not everything. Oh, no, no, no it wasn't.

I remember how I was so scared to talk to her. Jitters passed my body at the thought of speaking anything beyond 'hi' to her. I remember how she finally decided to talk to me. The only thing she said? She said, "I like the spike in your hair." I thought I would just de right there from those mere seven words.

I remember how after that day, we became rather friendly. We trained side by side, ate side by side, and walked home side by side. I remember how I thought we were "just friends" too long, even though I was deathly afraid to do anything about it!

I remember how a year later when she turned 12, she asked if I'd like to go with her to see a movie at the Boardwalk Theatre. Of course, I said yes, and we went that very night. I remember in the middle of the movie, I gathered enough courage to hold her hand. I could tell, even in the dark of the theatre, that her cheeks were as red as strawberries in summer.

I remember a week after she stopped me at the lake on Rainey Lane. She pulled a mask of leaves back and revealed a crystal clear lake and a tree with a wooden rope swing. We swung and swung on that poor rope swing until the swing could've dropped out of the tree altogether. I remember she told me to sit in the grass. The purple little pinwheel flowers and the sunny dandelions surrounded us, and just ahead of the green trees was the red sunset. She leaned in real close and whispered the words, "I've got a secret." I scrunched my eyebrows, and she whispered, "I like you." Before I could open my mouth she ran, ran, and ran out of our little cove.

I remember the silence between us. The silence hurt just as much as when the trainers would poke needles in our skin, one after another until we couldn't take it any longer. I remember that the painful silence lasted for 3 days. We were just scared of what the other would say, that's all.

I remember when later that week she slipped me a note. Are you mad at me Cato it said. The writing was in cursive, and it was so beautiful that if it didn't have her name on it, I wouldn't have known it was her handwriting. Attached to the note was a thin, 2 inch blade. I knew she disassembled her small knife, the one that could open and close. Her knives were like her babies. It was difficult to persuade her to give them up. I smiled at the thought she'd shown and wrote on the back, Of course I'm not.

I remember when all hard feelings were worked out, and we started officially dating. We went so many places, saw so many things, but still after everything, the lake was still our favorite place, when we had time between all the training for the Games.

I remember our first ever kiss. It was at the training center, after hours, with absolutely nobody around. It was kind of awkward, since we never really had been too physical besides the occasional holding hands and such. Despite the awkwardness and lack of experience, it was still one of my favorite memories with her.

I remember just a year later when she was fifteen; we had our very first fight. It was in her house; I accidentally broke her mother's vase. She was rather upset, and she yelled a little bit. I tried to say I was sorry, but then she just had me mad. I yelled at her, "You don't understand the important things in life!" and slammed her front door.

I remember the hostility between us. We tried to pretend the other wasn't real, but that was next to impossible for me because of her friends. Her friends would glare, and then trip me on "accident." I tripped so many times that my hands were red and calloused because of them hitting the floor so much. I remember how desperately I wanted to turn around and be Prince Charming and wave a wand to make it better, but I knew I couldn't. I was stupid, yes, but not so stupid I thought I could fix it all.

I remember the night before the annual reaping she threw rocks at my second-story window. It scared the absolute crap out of me! She yelled, "Let me up ! Cato! Let me up!" over and over and over again as if the first time I didn't hear. I went to the hall closet, snatched a ladder, and let her come in. She climbed up and instantly apologized. "It was uncalled for, on my part." I said. I meant it, too. She then just walked around the room awkwardly and I offered, "Stay with me?" She graciously accepted.

I remember how my brother woke me up that morning. "I knew it! I knew you had a secret girlfriend Cato! I'm telling mom!" he said, and I chased him around the whole house begging him not to. Of course, he didn't listen, and told mom anyway. I remember being so embarrassed as she went into a tangent about how 'careers don't love' until it was time to head to the reaping.

I remember Dottie reaped her name. I thought I'd fall apart when I heard her name and saw her give me the saddest eyes ever. When they drew the boy's name, I instantly volunteered. Yes, it meant death for one of us if we made it to the final 2, but I couldn't let her go with some random villager who surely wouldn't give a damn about her safety.

I remember how pretty she looked in her golden costume for the Chariot rides. The scales just cascaded down her neckline, shining as bright as the sun. When I told her so, she snorted. I picked up the cue. She didn't want to act in love with the constant cameras around.

I remember at the interviews in a different pretty dress. The 'fire dress', I called it, which she laughed at because it reminded her of the girl from 12, who really was on fire at the Chariot rides. She was standing in line behind a girl who looked like a total slut in her butt-high, transparent dress. She smirked and pointed to her. I held back several laughs.

I remember after the interviews, she was furious. The boy from 12 made it next to impossible to be in love. She went in such a rage, kicking down anyone and anything that stood in her way. I couldn't even calm her down.

I remember sitting in the leather chairs just an hour before the Games. Fear raced through my mind. Soon enough pain filled my mind instead of fear as those Capitol jerks put microchips in our arms. Now that hurt like absolute hell.

I remember the countdown. She looked at me, I looked at her. She mouthed words I couldn't understand, but what I did understand was when she looked straight at a pretty little vest filled with knives of all sizes. She smiled a toothy grin and gave a thumbs-up. I laughed.

I remember camping under district 12's tree after the Games began. She stayed with me in our small tents for the night. 12 dropped a nest of Tracker-Jackers on our tent in the middle of the night, which woke us up faster than any alarm clock would. We ran all the way to the lake. I remember the boy from 1 telling us little miss blonde-slut was dead. I thought good riddance.

I remember looking on the screen one night and saw 1-boy's picture up there along with 12's ally. "He must've killed her." She stated as if it were fact. I thought it was a good guess, but hey, we'd never be sure.

I remember her going to the feast. Alone. She told me, "I can take care of myself!" I agreed. After all, she was 15 and I didn't need to babysit, right? I let he go, and I watched her run like the wind with her ponytail swinging back and forth. I smiled for the last time in my life.

I remember hearing her screams and cries for me to come. I ran so fast I swore my heart would give out right there. I hoped I wasn't too late, I really did, but then I looked. I saw her mangled body on the dust with two tributes around her. My nightmare was true. I was too late.

I remember kneeling by her frail, ghostly white body begging her not to leave me alone. She struggled and cried and tried to hold on, but in the end, I remember her not answering but a few words. When she stopped breathing, I thought I would stop breathing too.

I remember her final words to me: "Win for me, Cato." I remember doing all I could to hold on in those last few minutes of my life, thinking of her and all we shared. Her dark hair and eyes. Her sadistic personality around others. Her ponytail that swung back and forth when she left. Our kiss. Training. The lake with the red sunsets and purple pinwheel flowers and dandelions. We shared so much, but it all fell apart with that decision that she was old enough to go alone.

Oh my gosh! This one was soo much fun to write. I wrote this at the lake by my house, which is where the inspiration for the lake in the story came from. Thank you for reading!