I stand here, my arms clenched around Peeta's throat. Katniss' has her bowstring pulled back, ready to take flight at a moment's notice. We all stand here, waiting.
"Go on, shoot." I utter, just wishing this would end already. "Then we both go down and you win."
She doesn't say a word, she just watches Peeta as he suffocates in my grasp. How can she just watch? I could end him this very second and she would only have time to stare as he would fall to the ground dead. If you truly loved someone, you wouldn't sit by and watch them die. I didn't have a choice.
It's over now, my dream of victory; winning these Games now would just be pointless. How could I win, if I can't even stand living? I've never been alive, I've never lived, Cato. Her voice echoes inside of my head. Clove. She never had the chance to live. I may have avenged her by killing District 11, but that won't bring her back. Nothing can.
"Go on! I'm dead anyways, I always have been." I taunt. My mind wanders back to Clove, and I feel my throat tighten. "I didn't know that until now."
This is too much, I thought I could win. "Huh? Is that what they want?" I shout at no one in particular, just anyone who is willing to listen anymore.
But I still can win. I may not win with Clove, but I can win for her. I intensify my grip on Peeta's neck, causing him to thrash for air. "I can still do this. I can do this."
Thoughts flood my mind, and I can't focus on anything. I hear someone speaking quickly and proudly. It takes me a moment to realize that person is me.
"Just one more kill. It's all I know how to do. To bring pride to my District-" I feel a lingering touch on the back of my hand, but I have barely a second to comprehend what Peeta is doing before the arrow buries itself in my hand. I cry out in pain and shock. Then suddenly, I'm falling.
As I plummet to the ground, knowing and accepting the end, I think of Clove.
As my body strikes the rough earth, I think of her ebony hair.
As the first mutt attacks, I think of her fierce smile.
As they bite, tear, and claw at my flesh, I think of the way she could throw knives.
As I begin fighting them off, barely managing to see clearly, I think of she never gave up.
As they overpower me, I think of the way she kissed me. Passionately and rough.
As they close in on me, tearing me to shreds, I think of the beautiful ring in her voice.
As I beg for the suffering to end, I think of her eyes. Her mesmerizing eyes.
As the arrow plummets into my neck, I think of her. The girl who stole my heart.
Then my cannon blows.