PS this has nothing to do with Career. My story about Clove. I do not own this image.

Dear Enobaria,

If I don't make it out of the arena, I want you to know something. I know you're probably disappointed, but I never meant for it to be that way.

Coming into the arena, I thought I wanted to come out. I thought I wanted to win. But really, what would I do if I had won? If I win that means Cato dies. I don't want that. He was my best friend. Guilt would be ripping me to shreds, not seeing Cato.

I didn't want to watch at least one of my tributes die every year being a mentor. Being a victor isn't what I want. I want Cato to live. I want you to move on. There will always be another girl to train, another girl to win at that. To bring glory to your name. But that girl just wasn't me.

Although my life was short, it was good. I made friends, I had a lot of luxury's some districts didn't have.

You have always been like a mom to me, thank you. I know you'll be sad at first, but really, that's not what I want. Do it for me.

Love,

Clove