Cato: Who He Really Is
By: HaleyAlexandria - I Do Not Own The Hunger Games, I Only Own My Character Willow Ashberry
Chapter Six - Cato
Stupid... It's all we are as people, stupid. Fighting, dying and crying over it all like we weren't expecting it to happen. But we all laugh, but we're all dying. Some faster than others, but we're all going to the same place... We may get 100 years, or we may get 18... We're all human, but yet we fight and kill, and we force ourselves to breathe through it even though we don't want to live through it.
Love... that's all we have that keeps us going. Knowing that once you walk away from hell, you turn the corner into someone's arms... And that feeling of supreme happiness, it's stupid. We don't ever want to say goodbye, but we have to, it's inevitable. But what keeps you going once love is gone? Is it the memory of knowing that someone loved us? Or is it the possibility that more love awaits us? Maybe it's just the fact that love doesn't make our hearts beat, but makes them beat faster. What if we don't want to love again? Is that so wrong to ask for? Yes, apparently it is, because people will say 'move along, that was then, not now.' But they are the people who don't know what real love is.
When we lose someone we care about, our hearts slow down at an incredible pace, to the point where we think it'll stop beating... It won't, not right away... Just wait...
The cannon fires, telling you that another one is gone. Who was this person? Maybe I don't know, but out there somewhere, someone does. That person was someone's baby, was someone's sweetheart, was someone's reason to go on... When you're one of these people, the one that loses a part of themselves when that cannon is heard, the pain is worse than from any wound. First there's the crying, and during the crying there's denial. The fact that it seems so unreal that this person, who was so strong and kindhearted, is gone because they were put into a world they didn't belong in, that none of us belong in. No matter how entertaining some people say it is, it would be more entertaining to see how different the world was without the games, the drug that call us back every year that leaves 23 of our babies and sweethearts and reason's for going on, dead. This year it was 22. This year two people go home, and neither of them are who I need them to be.
That damned cannon fires and ends my life, but not my existence. It makes me wonder, why? Just why... Why won't he be here anymore? Why won't he kiss me again, or hold my hand? Why isn't he coming home? He supposed to come home, that's what's natural, and that's why it's so odd. I'm used to him coming home to me, and not being on the other end of the cannon, the one where someone loses their life and their existence.
His service is in one week, that's when his family and I will lay him to rest. Where he'll sleep eternally, and never look at me again with his ocean blue eyes.
This is really over... I remind myself. He's gone... This isn't my home, now that he's gone. He grew up here for 14 years without me, this was his home, and then he saved me and I've been here. His mom and dad say I'm like family, but, I know that they don't think that, especially now.
I laid in bed all night last night, and now it's past noon, and I'm still here. I can't think straight, and I'm afraid that if my mind isn't working right my legs won't either... I would have run away by now. Someplace where I know I'm safe... the only difference is he wouldn't be there to keep watch...
Two Years Ago... Today
We were still foolish and childlike. Both only 16 years old. If you would have told me then that he would be dead two years later I would have said 'Cato can handle everything! He strong and fearless and can handle anything!'
"Come on Willow!" he called, pulling me by my hand.
"Cato, where are we going?" I asked.
"Someplace safe. Away from this place." he told me.
"We're safe here." I demanded.
"Our lives maybe, but not our existence." he turned to look me in the eyes.
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"I don't know..." he laughed and then took a seat in open spot just passed a few trees, no one could see us there... we were safe. "This is it." he told me.
"How'd you find this?" I asked, knowing that he's usually at home or training.
"I just took a walk and stumbled on this spot. It reminded me of you." he smiled and pulled me down to sit in his lap.
"Why me?" I wondered.
"It just did... I'll keep watch!" he crawls over to look under the trees and at District 2.
"For what?" I laugh.
"The tributes!" he turned back and looked at me and we both laughed. We understood what the games were, and neither of us wanted to fight in them. But we did this thing where we figured out what we were going to do if we ever got called and no one volunteered. It was just a childish game that only lasted maybe a year, and then we realized that it scared us just to pretend.
Now
"Willow? Supper's ready." Cato's dad tells me. Mrs. Hadley has been on lock down ever since last night. She's worse than me, she screams and cries all day and then falls asleep only to be interrupted by nightmares. Cato was her only son.
That's why I don't want kids... didn't. Cato was the only one... there's no one else.
"I'm fine Mr. Hadley." I respond.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes..." I hold Cato's pillow closer to me and begin to cry again.
Soon, it'll be a year, and then two. Time will move faster than desired, and that's when I can barely remember Cato's face, his eyes, his lips, his nose, his mouth. I won't wish it to happen, but that's how time works. Through rain, and snow, and fire, nothing seems to stop time, but seems to stop us from remembering. Who we were and sometimes, who we are. The rain may wash the hurt away, the snow may keep the happiness, the fire may erase our wounds, and then it seems as if everything that made us stronger never existed.
Dreams may bring back our days, but they aren't accurate, dreams can't bring back the touch, or the smell, or the love. We tend to lose everything as people, whether it's your favorite toy as a child, or your love when you grow older. We can't seem to keep a hold on what matters, only what doesn't.
I don't want to forget... but someday I will. The funeral will pass, and then the winter. I might be sad, but even I can't keep hold of the only thing that reminds me that what I felt towards Cato was real. I may know it... but I won't feel it...
Darkness, I don't feel anything and then I do... The pain, it's unbearable. My chest, my head, my whole body. And then I'm awake...
My eyes shoot open, and I expect the pain to be all a dream, but it's real. I'm bruised and broken to a level that I never thought I could hurt.
Where am I? I don't remember. I look to the right and see an IV coming from my arm and to a bad with white liquid. I open my mouth to speak but it hurts too bad. I yank the needle out of my arm and force myself to sit up even though it hurts. I'm on a medal table in the center of a freezing room.
I look to the table next to me and read my name at the top.
'Cato Hadley Deceased'
I look at the folder in confusion...
I'm not dead...
(A/N: I had this plan before I posted the first chapter. Cato comes back. I'll explain more in the next chapter. Sorry for saying that it would be his funeral and more memories. I just wanted to make sure people stuck around to read. So what do you think? Good Chapter? Stay around for the next one...)