Chapter 20

I awoke in the middle of the night and lay staring at the ceiling for hours. Lucy remained fast asleep next to me while my thoughts drifted to my mother and all the things I'd always wanted with her. Bes had ruined everything.

Was there something wrong with me? Why couldn't I have parents who loved me? My mother was long gone and now so was my father. I might hate everything about him but it still didn't stop the ache in my heart when I thought of him leaving without sparing us a thought. I couldn't help wonder if he ever planned to come back. Probably not.

I shivered in the darkness of the room which couldn't help but appear greyer than it would in the light of day. Ever since Cato left, the dullness and silence seemed to stand out a lot more. Why did everyone want to leave me behind?

I rummaged in my bedside draw, scavenging and clutching desperately to the small piece of cloth that wrapped so many of my childhood emotions in each stitch holding it together. It was all my mother left me, that small square of grey with the jagged edge, torn from her favourite cardigan. Throwing my head back against the wall and shutting my eyes, I fingered the cloth in my palm as it soothed my aching heart with a numb ecstasy. I thought about where she might be now and I hoped she still held onto that cardigan even if it was broken. But why would she hang onto something so broken and pointless? She didn't hold onto me.

I'd do anything to have her back. I'd be nicer and more helpful. Maybe that's the reason she left, because I was as unhelpful as father always said I was. I could have played the part better and been the good daughter I was supposed to be. Maybe I shouldn't have ever told the teacher about that bruise and maybe I shouldn't have cried at school. Maybe I could have been more obedient and made her life easier. After all, it was often my actions that she took a hit for, just like Bes. Perhaps he'd leave me too for all the pain I'd put him through. He was right; he does need to protect himself too. Perhaps it would just be easier if I wasn't around because all I did was tear everything apart like this small piece of grey fabric. Somehow my fingers had dropped the cloth and were running across the jagged cuts from so long ago which still stained my skin and thoughts, just as my blood had stained Cato's flooring. I felt the itch claw my skin, like biting teeth of the cold wind brushing through my curtains. I would do it again but I'd promised Cato I wouldn't, and he may break his promises but I was better than that.

As a distraction I got up and moved away from the still sleeping Lucy. I slowly padded to the window and felt the wind whip my matted hair from my weary face. Rest was a necessity for most, but the sleepless nights clung to my weathered skin and seemed irreversible at this point. Perhaps I'd happily die of exhaustion before I ever saw Cato again. This time when I glanced to his window expecting to see a light, I didn't. The whole house was surrounded in darkness and I felt a sudden surge of anger at the sight. How lovely for him that he'd still get his beauty sleep when here I was beginning to worry about his sorry state.

I angrily stomped back to bed and climbed in willing myself to fall asleep if only to spite him. I didn't need him. I didn't need him. I really didn't.

Lucy and I woke up to the blaring of my alarm, both secretly relieved that I'd slept even if only for a few hours. We rushed about throwing clothes at one another until we could somehow pass for being dressed. It seemed unfair that even in my clothes Lucy still looked better than me. We grabbed our bags and shoved a few books in each, hoping that at least one lesson was right. All the while we had Bes screaming manically up the stairs about how we'd all be late if we didn't hurry. It was an unspoken agreement between Bes and me that we would make civil conversation with one and other when necessary but nothing more. I could not find it in me to forgive him.

Together the three of us stumbled into one of the hockey players' car, though his name sounds so similar to three other of Bes' friends that I didn't even both to remember it. The journey was rather quiet and the silence filled the air obnoxiously as we all scrambled for words to say. Thankfully it ended seemingly quickly to which Lucy and I shared a look of relief.

When we arrived at our lockers together, none of our friend group questioned it which made me think she'd said something to them prior to our arrival but I couldn't be bothered to care. We chatted idly about nothing in particular. Sophie was absent from the group but no one seemed particularly perturbed by this fact, despite the fact she was almost always there. Eve and Lucy were chatting merrily about their latest crushes on the hockey team while Will rolled his eyes constantly at whatever new name came out of their mouths. Katy stood behind them absorbed in a book as she crammed last minute for a test that we all knew she'd ace anyway, and Lucy stood chatting about pretty much nothing with me as I stared absently at Jake from across the hall. When he catches my eye as he talks to his friend Eric he offers a cute, dimply smile that should really make my heart skip but I was just too tired for feelings like that. He seemed to notice my detachment and his smile subsided into something much less cheery. We hadn't seen much of each other really and I'd been avoiding his calls so I knew he was aware that I wasn't really myself, but he respected me enough not to play the naggy boyfriend routine that so many others tried. He dismisses Eric as he casts me a sideways worried glance and heads my way.

When he reaches my side, he immediately pulls me into a tight embrace with a strong hand resting between my shoulder blades and the other on the small of my back. The hug was fleeting but a comfort and I found myself offering him a half-genuine smile, the biggest I could find the energy to muster. He seemed relieved to see it though and I watched his brown eyes light up. Lucy introduced him to the conversation as his arm hooked round my shoulder and I snuggled into his side, but I paid no attention to the chatter around me because I was just too exhausted with everything. Before I knew it, I was practically asleep against him but upon realising my eyes were shut I quickly blinked them open to find only Jake had noticed and was staring lovingly at me. Thankfully the bell rang before I had time to digest that.

Will and Eve walked with me towards our first class of the day, a day I was dreading, and I found my eyes wandering to the hockey boys crowded at the far end of the corridor as I hoped to see a very familiar face but the most familiar one I found was my brothers', not the one I really wanted to see. Cato was still not here.

Classes dragged on and I found myself asleep in more than one of them. Luckily I had a friend in every class who loyally took notes on my behalf. They'd been doing that a lot recently. Eventually lunch swung around and I blindly stumbled to our usual table before laying my head down for another time that day. The lack of sleep was finally catching up with me. I seemed to be early as only Will, Eve and Katy were gathered there so far. They chatted idly around me, their chatter fading into a dull hum in the buzzing chaos around us.

Before long I felt a light touch to my shoulder and found I'd fallen asleep on my left arm. I pulled myself up, blinking away the confusion and attempting to determine how long I'd been asleep. I was met with the apprehensive faces of Lucy and Sophie and a sick feeling suddenly lurched in my stomach. Something was wrong.

Wordlessly they each took one of my hands and led me to the hallway outside of the cafeteria so we could have some quiet to talk. They both looked to each other as if asking for the other to speak.

"Just get on with it. What's wrong?" I demanded, unable to take this waiting game.

They shared another look before Sophie sighed and took the lead. "You know how my mom and Mrs Hadley are good friends?"

I nodded stiffly, feeling the burning in my stomach increase to an excruciating level. I could feel the words before they were even spoken and my throat was constricting and my breath was lost somewhere in the words as they tumbled out of Sophie of how Mrs Hadley had turned up to her house in tears, crying over Cato and what had happened to him. She talked of some "accident" and how he "just wasn't the same now" and on and on and on. Tears welled in my eyes before I'd even registered everything. I stumbled as I paced, twirling in a circle like a drunken ballerina. I whimpered and growled manically like an animal as I gasped for breath and tugged my hair. I'd been so stupid, so foolish, so selfish. I'd known really, deep down, I'd know Cato wouldn't do this. He'd promised me and he wouldn't break a promise. He'd always been there since we were eight and he wouldn't just leave me like that and I'd known but I hadn't wanted to believe it because I wanted to protect myself. Everything was always about protecting myself and letting everyone else suffer. Why hadn't I just let my guard down and let myself be vulnerable? If I'd listened to him or gone to check on him rather than disregarding him from my life when I'd been hurt, maybe everything would be fine. I had such a fear of rejection that I rejected everyone before they could do it to me first. The things I'd said about him and I hadn't even known created a sense of overwhelming guilt, oppressing me and adding an inexplicable weight on my heart and throat, constricting them even more.

She was still talking. Lucy was trying to reach out to me but I swatted her away violently as I dropped to my knees. This couldn't be happening. Cato was the one constant that I had. He was the only thing that was always there and now something was wrong with him. I needed him.

I stopped suddenly and immediately gathered myself and got back to my feet. They both stared at me but it seemed so obvious now. I wiped my tears and grabbed my bag from where I'd slung it on the floor. I had to see him. As soon as I ran towards the entrance to the school, I felt Lucy's hand wrap around my forearm and tug me back.

"Clove, what the hell are you doing? You need to calm down, okay? Just breathe a second. I'm sure he's –"

I didn't let her finish before pushing her away roughly so she stumbled backwards into Sophie. "NO! You're not sure! You can't be sure! I need to be sure! I need –" I took a gasping breath, "I need to be sure; I need to see him." She went to grab me again and I screamed wildly. "Please! Please! Get off me! Get off me! I have to…I have to…I –"

"And how the hell do you plan on doing that?! You can't just run out of the school and –"

"I'll walk, I'll run, I don't care I –"

She grabbed the hand that was tugging my hair again. "You need to calm down."

"No I don't! Shut up and leave me alone!" I went to move again but she grabbed me again and stared me down.

After a long pause of judging my expression, she sighed and turned back to Sophie, "Soph, take notes for us in history, yeah? I've got to sort this."

With that, she grabbed my hand and led me outside into the school parking lot. She pulled out her phone and rang a taxi to come pick us up since neither of us could actually drive yet. The driver gave us a strange look as he pulled up but I didn't even care about my probably manic appearance. I'd calmed considerably on the journey as my tears dried and my hands stopped shaking. My breath had finally found its way home and I felt sane at last as the numbness set in and left me a cold, emotionless shell.

As it pulled up outside my house, I immediately stumbled out. I didn't bother to pay attention to Lucy and what she did as my sights zoned in on the ominous house across the round that suddenly seemed too cold and empty. The flowers that used to adorn the path were suddenly dead and wilting, having lost their colour and turned grey. The grass that was normally neatly trimmed seemed a tad overgrown and the tree that normally stood proud had a sudden droop as it loomed down on me. The glass of the windows seemed faded and the paint was cracking. It began to change its fairy-tale style that had always plagued it, as it changed from the pretty castle to the haunted lair of the cackling villain.

I could feel the weight of each footstep as I approached the door and I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as I finally pressed the bell. It rang on for what seemed like much too long and its echo seemed much too loud amongst the silent street. Then it opened and I was met with Peeta's overly blue eyes. They'd lost their cheer and seemed a much more dulled colour than I'd remembered. He smiled sadly and silently let me in without offering a word. He must have seen in my face that I'd known, though I didn't really.

We walked the hallway and as we passed the living room I spotted various things. First was Cato's father, an empty whiskey glass perched in his hand as he stared endlessly at a blank spot on the far wall in silence. Second was Cato's mother, perched gingerly on the armchair as she curled in on herself while a silent tear slipped down her face. The room was in disarray with everything strewn across every surface, a contrast to the house that was normally impeccably neat. I quickly glanced away, saddened by the ghosts of people I saw haunting like shadows of the room. As we descended the stairs, I felt overwhelmed and deeply afraid of what I would find but I knew that this is what he'd do for me so I could do no less for him. We owed each other that much. Peeta stopped outside Cato's door and turned to me with a grave expression which I could not seem to meet with my own saddened eyes.

His voice was too quiet as he spoke. "He hasn't been out of his room since it happened…for a while he wouldn't even talk…but at least now he occasionally yells at us to go away."

I glanced to my feet as I felt the weight of it all once more.

His hand gently touched my shoulder in a way he seemed familiar with. "It's not that bad though. I mean…maybe now that you're here…well," He coughed awkwardly, looking away, "you've always been special to him…"

I nodded but I didn't really believe it.

He knocked and we waited. No reply. He knocked again and we heard a long groan before a gruff, broken voice yelled, "Go the fuck away, right now." Peeta glanced to me apologetically but he didn't need to. I didn't care what he said; I was going to see him anyway.

I reached for the door handle and Peeta immediately understood so he nodded and walked away with a whispered "good luck" that I knew I'd need.

The door creaked open and the room was in darkness. My eyes immediately found the bed where there was a figure cocooned in the blanket, hidden from sight, as if he'd wrapped himself up in a protective shell layer. He was nothing more than a shaking lump as he sobbed pathetically and I longed to see his face for whatever reason. I shut the door and he must have heard it because he immediately froze and tensed up before grunting at me to leave. But I wouldn't.

I gently walked over to his bedside before dropping my bag to the floor and slipping my shoes off. I lifted the covers and approached him like a wild animal I didn't want to startle. He was still tensed up and facing away from me. I slipped into the bed behind him as he'd done to me so many times when he thinks I'm asleep, like I could sleep without him there. Tucking myself in, I turned to him and shuffled closer until we were pressed together. My fingers gingerly touched his side in a timid way and his breath left him. I slipped my hand around him in a burst of courage and found myself snuggled against his back, stroking my fingers around his side. His head bowed and he sighed. When he croaked out the word "clove…?" I could feel every ounce of emotion built up since I last saw him. I shushed him and soothed him, mimicking the ways he'd soothed me because really we're quite similar. His hand grasped mine over his chest and our fingers intertwined and I heard him cry for the first time. It was ragged and ugly but utterly heart-breaking so I pressed my face into his shoulder to muffle my own cries. I hoped he could feel my guilt and apology, the word "sorry" in every touch. Eventually he rolled over and when he saw me the sobs broke from any sense of control and he just sobbed into my hair like a child. I soothed him and whispered nothingness to him but he didn't care about any of that. He just held me tight and squeezed me, the comfort in knowing I was there. We always found comfort in each other's presence. We hugged and cried and finally slept and I never did ask what was wrong because I wasn't sure either of us could find the words. When he had tried to tell me he'd only screamed about how broken he was, how useless now that his only skill was torn from him. I'd whispered back that it wasn't true but he just cried and cried, and then I cried too because I wasn't sure I believed me either. His life was over, ruined and what was he to do now? He'd always said you shouldn't plan out your entire life in case it didn't go to plan, so he hadn't planned his life out but everyone around him had planned it for him. It was something I'd been glad wasn't a burden on me: expectations. Everyone had always expected so much from Cato, even me, and it was entirely unfair. I could see this now but I'd been blinded before.

From there he cried some more, mumbling his sadness into my hair or any place on my skin his lips found their way to. He cried that he was a disappointment: to his friends, to his parents and to his grandfather who'd first inspired him to play ice-hockey when they went to his first match. His grandfather had died the same year when our sleeping arrangements started so I'd never really known him, but I knew how much he meant to Cato and really that was all that mattered.

Then he turned to me with big watery blue eyes that I'd never seen before and, with a quivering lip, asked what I thought of him now. He asked if I saw him different; he asked if he was any less. I couldn't tell him with words, they were meaningless, so I told him in kisses and gentle touches instead. Even this only settled him briefly. Then he started saying that I was wrong to treat him like that. He screamed at me. He tried to push me away. I clung to him as he'd often had to do to me. I held his face in my hands and told him he was perfect because "why else would all the girls always want you?" but this was the wrong thing to say. He ran his hands through his hair and he stood from the bed. He was wearing crumpled clothing that had probably been worn for far too long. I briefly wondered when he'd last showered. He shouted at me to stop mentioning things like that. "Things like what?" I'd said and he tugged his hair until I made him stop. "I'm not perfect! Stop telling me I am!" He'd yelled back and I moved away. Another tear slipped loose as he proceeded to tell me exactly why he wasn't perfect. He may have found his ears "too big" and that they "stuck out too much" but I thought they added character. He may have thought his chin "looked bad in pictures" but I thought the small dip in the middle was sweet. He may have disliked his smile because his lips were "too thin" but I thought they were defining features. In the end, I shushed his insecure ramblings because I'd had enough of the self-deprecating. He was himself and as far as I was concerned that was great. Why should he have any insecurities at all?

We lay in silence, curled together with our hands grasped tight to each other's and he finally stopped crying and sniffling. I rubbed my fingers in circles and he picked at my hair with his fingers until eventually they fell limp as he drew nearer unconsciousness. As he finally slipped into sleep, my fingers crawled to his tattoo and I pressed my face into his chest as I whispered, just as he had a long time ago, "beautiful, beautiful, beautiful" because he was but he didn't believe it anymore.

A/N Happy 2016

New Years Resolution : Update more frequently

Kathy x