Go on! Shoot, and we both go down and you win.
They don't deserve it. They should have been us. Star-crossed lovers? Bullshit. I can tell the girl is faking; I can always tell when someone is faking because I always am. See, I'm not really who you think I am. Am I cocky? Yes. Am I arrogant? Yes. Am I soulless? I thought I was, once. I thought I was, until I met her. They always told me, Cato, you're merciless. Cato, you're a killing machine. And I loved it, man, did I love those compliments. Maybe it was my large physique, maybe it was my relentless spirit, but I played the part of a cold-blooded killer all too well. And if I was going to die, I was going to die playing that part. I was going to make my family and my district proud.
Go on. I'm dead anyway.
I saw her around sometimes. I loved the ruthless animal persona that everyone knew me as back at home, the spiteful fist that the people dubbed me as in District 2. But even more so, I loved the way she smiled at me in the town square, the way that she waved to me when I chiseled stone into new shapes in acres and acres of grass. That's why I was so devastated when her name was called at the reaping; she was something different. Without thinking, I volunteered to protect her, but because I was so dark hearted I made everyone believe that I volunteered to win.
I always was, right?
Clove… forgive me. I didn't save you. You called out for me, and I never came. Loving you was the first thing in my life that I hadn't faked, and now you're gone.
I couldn't tell that until now.
I felt the arrow pierce my hand. I let go of Lover Boy and fell. I looked up at the District 12 pair and realized, in my last moments, that he was just like me. In love, and yet so alone. I closed my eyes and only opened them to see you wearing angel wings, reaching out your hand to me, beckoning me to the happily ever after that I couldn't believe was real.