Preface:
"I count him braver, who overcomes his desires, than him who conquers his enemies; for the hardest victory is over one's self."
-Aristotle
That was it. I remembered it from an old book that had been in my house. What an old thing it had been; yellow pages, ripped bindings, yet I saw it as the most beautiful book in my home. I'd read the entire thing over and over again. Aristotle, what a funny name.
Thud went sword in my hand. Good-bye leg. I laughed as memories washed over me. I was alone now. I had conquered all of my desires. I had conquered all emotions. There I was, bleeding probably to death, the muscles in my left arm severely damaged, and yet I laughed. A madman, but I was so much closer. Closer to home.
Thud went the sword in my hand. Good-bye other leg. The boy was screaming in pain, but I had promised a good show, hadn't I? I couldn't even hear his screams over the rushing in my ears. Where was he from?
He's from District 12, Cato.
Who was that?! I looked around frantically.
I'm you, Cato. I'm your guide, your mentor so to speak. I am what you percieve as yourself and of your memories. I am you.
That boy from 12, how did he manage to get this far? He seemed a bit big to be from District 12. Curly blonde hair and blue eyes now engulfed in pain. From the Merchant's area, huh.
Thud, went the sword in my hand. Good-bye hand.
Oh Cato, look at yourself. You've got blood on your clean clothes! What would your mother say about that?
She would say that I remind her of father, but she can't. Mother's been dead for three years. Father and Juna were all I had left. Juna, sweet six year old Juna. What would she say?
"Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!" The boy screamed, as his lifeblood spilled from his open body. I blinked and raised my arm.
Thud went the sword in my hand. Rest in peace. Or pieces, whatever.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present, the Victor of the 71st Hunger Games, Cato Arckenson!" I raised my fist in victory, watching my own blood spill down it. I could feel the pain, but I roared in triumph. My left arm was looking a pale green from the dust, grime, and human blood that entered the spear wound. I felt dizzy with relief and sorrow, or it was the bloodloss. I couldn't tell which. It was from bloodloss.
I collapsed onto the sticky grass, panting. A grin was plastered to my face as I looked up.
Rest, Cato. You've done it. You can do anything you want now. Settle down in the Capitol, settle down back in District 2. Would you like to visit District 7? I heard they have a lot of trees there. That sounds nice, doesn't it?
District 7 sounded nice. I looked up and felt a nice breeze flow over me. There were trees, a few mockingjays, a blue sky... and a hovercraft. A claw dipped down and retrieved the corpse next to me. It came down a few more times to grab the other body parts. A ladder came down, and I groaned, trying to stand up. The pain was unbearable, but I gritted my teeth and grabbed the rungs. A jolt of electricity passed through my arms and refused to budge. I was deposited onto the steel floor of the hovercraft and something stabbed my arm. I collapsed and felt something cold spread through me. Then, I involuntarily closed my eyes.
