I walk gracefully to the entrance to the Justice Building, ready for the goodbyes. I walk in first, Cato behind me. When I open the door, it nearly closes on me as soon as I open it and Cato catches it behind me. I look back at his smug face and mumble a quick thanks.

I silently scowl at myself. What is wrong with me? Why couldn't I open a door? I shrug it off after a while though.

I open another door and hope that I can actually open this one. Luckily, I can. I walk over to the couch and sit uncomfortably straight with a strained face. I run my finger back over my bruise on my cheek and sigh.

Then, Brutus charges in, the peacekeepers not able to stop him. He swoops me up in a bear hug and I do all I can to not burst out crying. Too late.

Tears run down my face for the second time today. I felt so weak, allowing myself to cry at all. "You gotta win," Brutus says, snapping me out of my train of thought.

"But Brutus, there's Cato…" I start off, already doubting myself.

"I don't wanna hear it Kat, you can take him. Why do you think I put you two in the same training class?" The question was rhetoric and he continues, "Because I knew you would teach that smug bastard a few things." I just nod. He pulls me in for another hug and whispers in my ear, "I'll be able to help you get ready for the arena, don't worry. Kat, you've been born to do this."

"Yeah, but so was Cato," I say.

"Who cares about Cato? Kat, he'll get himself killed as soon as that gong sounds," Brutus says, still in my face.

"Yeah, but what if he doesn't Brutus? He'll kill me the first chance he gets!" I exclaim, feeling myself heating up for an argument.

"If he ever cared about you before, he won't. For god's sakes Kat, he practically raised you!" Brutus says. He had hit a nerve. Yes, it was true that Cato took me in when I was only 10. He was 11. Long story short, my dad had killed my mom and, well basically, he almost killed me too. Cato had just been walking around that night when he heard the screams.

We had been friends for a while and he decided to take me away from my father, by sheer and brute force. Now, you may ask how he overcame a 40 year old man? I'll never know. Anyway, a few years later, we fell in love and, well, that's all you need to know.

Brutus noticed my stark quietness and says, "Kat, I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what? For not taking me in when you knew what the monster did to me? An 11 year old boy saved my life and you just sat back and watched," I say, exploding into spontaneous words I had been wanting to say for my whole life. And none of it was a lie. Brutus had been my favorite family member, yes, but considering where the rest of my family stood, he was still pretty low.

He just looks at me, clearly astonished at my outburst. I automatically feel awful and rush to apologize, but Brutus interrupts me. "Don't apologize, Kat. I feel awful for what I did. I just, I don't know. I think it was the fact I was too scared to raise you as a child. I didn't want you to turn into the person I am, Kat."

"Huh, and you though an 11 year old boy could do better?" I ask, laughing slightly and brushing my tears away.

He laughs lightly and says, "Well, I guess I should've been thinking more, huh?" I nod and look at a spot on the wall, avoiding eye contact. "He didn't raise you too badly though," Brutus says softly.

I brush my hair back, feeling tears threatening to make a reappearance. Brutus clears his throat and gets up. "I guess I should be leaving. I bet we're way over our time limit," he says, smiling. I just nod and laugh lightly at the feeble attempt to make a joke.

Brutus walks out the door, rubbing his eyes. I think back to what he said about not owning to the responsibility of raising a child. I guess he was right.

I wait five more minutes, accepting the fact no one else was coming to see me. I get ready to walk to the peacekeeper outside of the door when the door opens. I take a few steps back and notice that there is a man in front of me.

I feel a sting on my cheek. I run my fingers over the tingling sensation in my cheek and am met with liquid. I'm bleeding? How? I look up again and notice how dizzy I am. In front of me is my father. I am on the floor bleeding. I connect the two quickly and know he has just hit me again. I move back on my hands and knees when I see him starting to advance on me.

I hit the wall and run my hands over the smooth surface. There's nowhere else to go. I am trapped in a small space with this monster. I stand up quickly and walk sideways, my hands gliding over the walls.

I then realize that he's yelling at me. Calling me a slut, tramp, whore, and other things that I don't even know what they mean. Then I come to my senses and realize that there are several armed Peacekeepers in this building.

I shout out, "Help! I'm being attacked!" And I hear boots scuffling along a floor above me. A weight dropped in my stomach. I have to wait for them to get here.

I look in his eyes, full of fury and hate. I hit my pinkie finger on a door hinge and I swing it open, finding no peacekeepers what-so-ever. Instead, I still hear them running overhead, making their way to the steps. I pray they get here soon.

Then I feel like someone has bulldozed me. I try to roll over on my back, but can't. I hear my father starting to beat me and the slaps he's making on my delicate skin are making echoes throughout the building. I am still screaming for help. Why has no one come yet?

I hear him spit on the place where my head was a fraction of a second ago. I still try to fight the strong hands around my wrists, but I know it's no use. Then there are boots around me, shiny black boots that are connected to a whit clad body.

I follow one in particular to the face, noting the beady black eyes behind the eye shield protector thing. Then I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders, literally. I roll around on my back and see my father being taken away by peacekeepers.

He is screaming profanities and looks insane and deranged. Then I sit up, looking down at my body. He had rolled up my shirt and beaten me to a bloody pulp. There were bruises and scratches all over my body.

I wince in pain as I come to a particularly nasty looking bruise. It is brown with an explosion of blue in the middle. I am horrified by the sights of my body and quickly roll down my shirt when I hear the door of the Justice Building open again.

Barrio is standing there and to my despise, Cato is there with him, dwarfing Barrio in size. Cato smirks as Barrio hurries to me and helps me up, asking if I'm okay. I reply harshly and brush past him, meeting up with Cato.

"Let's go," I snap at him, equally as harshly.

He brushes his lips against my neck and says, "Whatever you say, Kitty." He sent chills down my spine, and not necessarily in a bad way. What did bother me was the way he used my name. Kat was fine, but Kitty? Are you kidding me? Hell no!

I, with much effort, pull away from his trailing lips and walk away. I hear him chuckle lowly. He knows just as well as me how much I enjoyed that. Damn him.