Every morning I wake to find her gone. Though every morning I stretch my arms far to the side, searching for a body that's not there. The coldness of the bed tells me that its been a while since she has left her spot.
But this morning, when I wake to the sun peering through the window, I turn over to find her small body huddled close to mine. Despite the think layer of blankets covering her, she is shivering. Her face is scrunched up and her breathing is getting heavier and heavier by the second.
I use my finger to slightly brush some of the hair from her face. This slight movement is enough to wake her with a start. Panic fills her eyes, but after a moment, clarity is registered and I see that she recognizes me.
"Cato." she whispers with a sigh. "I know." I whisper back engulfing her in my arms.
I am brutal bloody Cato. And she is Clove, the girl with the knives, and we survived the 74th hunger games.
Just over a month ago, I would have been disgusted with a victor using the word 'survive' to describe their winning of the games. But now I can't help but use that word. It took me, to be thrown into that arena, nearly forced to kill Clove, and succeeding in killing many other children to realize what I really was. What my life really meant to others.
They never really cared, they just needed another piece for their games and that's what I became. I let them create a mutt out of me. Those games.. They ruined us. Me and Clove. They sent us home with nightmares, tears, frights.
Only we know how each other feels. What we've seen. What we have been through. We keep each other alive. With out Clove, I would be nothing. And with out me, Clove would be in some kind of physic ward, having broken down.
We are strong, alive, brave, in front of the citizens of Panem. But behind closed doors, we are broken, weak. We are dead.
A/N: I know it's really short.. I wrote it one day in school.. :P I hope you like it, please review and tell me what you think! xx
