Chapter 27: Lost

I spend what feels like several hours curled up with my back against a tree, trying to breathe over the sobs that subside only for a few minutes at a time. It will take more that a couple of days to accept what happened, so sometimes, I'm able to manage and stop myself crying. Sometimes I stop because I can no longer breathe and my body is forced to calm itself or risk passing out; other times, I forget exactly why I'm so upset. Those times are when I can best pull myself together, but they are also the hardest to recover from. If I forget why I'm crying, I stop, and then sit for a minute trying to remember why and it's then that I come closest to accepting that it's real.

I don't know how long it takes before I find the strength to do anything again. When I finally begin to move, I decide to search the packs. 22 got weapons. All he needed were weapons! I'd have given them to him if it would have kept him away from that feast. I fight tears again and push the pack away. Inside our pack are the axes she talked about wanting. I pick one up and hold it in my hand as if to throw it, aiming at the trunk of a tree. If I throw it, I know I'll miss. I'm still shaking so I set it and its twin on the ground beside me.

Next is something neither of us expected, though, after the incident in the lake, and judging by the scratches I'm now starting to notice from running through the woods and the field after 22, and considering that 23 seems pretty good with her arrows, probably well merited. Full body armor. Lightweight but probably the indestructible kind. My throat tightens again, threatening to choke me until I remember that this, which covers me only from neck to ankles, would not have saved her. As I change, my hand runs across the little tin container on my belt. The one from that very first night in the arena.

I fold her armor and set it on the ground across the roots of a tree. I lay her axes on top of it and kneel there, staring at it, remembering. Probably, I'm crying again, but silently this time because all I notice is that my eyes sting and my cheeks are wet. Everyone in 2 will hate me for this, this shame I'm bringing to them, this weakness, this humanity. But maybe it's balanced out by how very inhumane 22's death was. She might not have approved, having always been so quick, but after what he did to her... He paid dearly for it and District 2 is probably at least glad that I can't muster sympathy for 22.

Sympathy is different than guilt though. I have no sympathy, but guilt is creeping in on me as I realize that killing him isn't bringing her back down here to me. She brought 23's arrows out of the arena and they'll probably bury her before I get home if they haven't already. I'll never see her again.

I find myself speaking aloud, as if to her. I use the word 'aloud' loosely. My voice is still quiet and choked. "You wanted me to go home, right? Should I have taken this?" I'm still gripping the container of nightlock. "Did I mess up?" I could still take it but then I left her there for no reason. No. I won't take it. I will go home. It's the promise I made to her when I stood up. I will win these Games. No one wants to be alone as they die, but she made sure she was by telling me to go. She didn't want me to stay. That must mean she wanted me to go home. Or maybe I'm too cowardly to take the poison. That could be. I was too cowardly to stay beside her and hold her as she died; that's for certain and she knew it, or she wouldn't have told me to go. But I tell myself it's not the case here and vow that the Capitol will remember her. Most tributes are forgotten if they go home in coffins. Not Clove. They'll remember her because I will not allow them to forget. "I wish you were here. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I let this happen to you."

I sleep with my head on her armor. It's all I have. Tomorrow I'll find the others.

Not find.

Hunt.

I don't know how long I've slept, but when I wake, the sun is high. The downpour must have stopped while I slept, but I didn't notice. The Gamemakers are changing the weather on us, but I can't think why. I'm hungry. The Capitol took my spear away with 22's body and I won't use her axes so I cross to 22's pack, open it and tie some of the knives to my belt. There's also a metal spear, collapsable with the push of the right button, very high tech, very expensive. I wonder what he did to deserve all this and who with enough money sympathized so wholly with him. It doesn't matter. I extend the spear, take a look at Clove's armor and axes, mouth, "I'll be back soon," and head deeper into the forest to find something edible before I go hunting for the last three beings in this arena who will set off canons.

...

Disclaimer: Don't own

AN: So, unlike the previous chapter, I don't think this one requires much explanation. If you have questions, ask.

Wait, there is one thing but it's kind of hard to put into words...wait...

Aha! I finally figured out a way to word this in a way that'll make sense. Real quick, this isn't supposed to be a Pity Cato Party. I mean, you're definitely supposed to empathize, to feel for him because he's just lost someone he loves, but it's not supposed be one of those, "I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I must be totally inept. Everything I do is wrong ... etc," chapters. That comes across as self-pitying and he's not by any means. He feels bad, but it's not pity. He's confused, grieving, and trying to get a grip on himself and sort through this because, to top it all off he's still sitting in the arena with the prospect of killing three more people or being killed himself. Does that make sense? Also, I hope it's not melodramatic. I try to be like the least melodramatic person ever. Anyway...

to my beloved readers:

Ghanaperu: Oh yay! I'm glad you liked it. Also, sorry. I intended to post sooner than think but I've been mad busy. The next chapter is similar to "Hunting 22" so it shouldn't take long to proofread so hopefully it'll actually be up soon for real. haha

TwilightCharmedFaie: Ok good :) I was just makin' sure. Basically the next chapters are just full of feelings! So many feelings! 400 feelings!

PercavethLoveForever: I'm so happy you like the story :) Raw emotion was exactly what I was going for. Thanks for giving it that phrase. I couldn't think of it. haha.

hungergames98: Exactly. As I said, you aren't supposed to pity him, but empathize with him. I'm still wondering if I'm wording that in a clear way but I can't think how else to put it. Also, right. he's sort of running, like Katniss in the end of Mockingjay, on hatred and fury and then once he's exacted his revenge, there's nothing for him to do, so he sort of falls apart a little bit. Very Katniss-ish actually. That wasn't intentional. No worries. I've got the AE and also ... well let me put this

here. Another theory I could use some opinions on...There's a possibility of me posting some pre-arena Cato-Clove-and-Caleb-are-small chapters. (Sort of how they became friends, their training, their lives in general when they were younger, we're talking ages 8-possibly 17) I'm not sure about this, but I think it would be interesting to write about them as kids and if I get it out in pixels (lol not on paper), I'd probably post it on here for you guys to read. My only thing against that is that I don't want to seem like I'm dragging this out. I don't want it to get old. Sometimes, the reason stories are so good is because there's an ending, you know? Like Harry Potter. Still, let me know what you thoughts are.

hungergames98 continued: yes, so there's probably still a bunch more from me about Cato and Clove so no worries. haha :) I'm so flattered that you get so into this. Ah! It makes me happy!

Haninator: Yes, Guest, I know who you are (for people who aren't Haninator, we've been friends for just about 15 years so I'm not being creepy. I know her.). Thank you for your wise words. Can't have typos. They're embarrassig. haha. Ah well. I'm an imperfect individual. I'll go change it. Also, I hope you read the rest and we need to talk in person soon.

Thank you, my lovelies. I shall post more soon.
~Billy