When I opened my eyes, there were four people around my bed. Well, three-and-a-half.
"Hey, he's awake." Brutus' rock hard voice growled, and a smack was heard.
"I'm not blind!" Hey there, Enobaria.
"Would you two shut up? You're giving me a migraine!" What, Father's here too? Now it's a party.
"Why does Cato have so many wires and tubes on him?" Juna. Little Juna was at my bedside. I reached over and held her small warm hand in my ice cold one.
"Hey..." I muttered, and she moved from whatever she was stepping on to curl up next to me.
"I missed you. Daddy said we were going to come here in a few days, and here we are!" She smiled and pecked my cheek. "I'm glad you're back. I would have gotten lonely!" She smiled and hugged my left arm. I could feel the burst of flame in the area where I'd been stabbed, but I held my emotions in complete and utter control. I never betrayed my emotions. Not anymore.
"Cato, son, we're all very proud of you." Father smiled and Juna nodded.
"Aunt Enobaria said so herself! She won't say it again, though, because Aunt Enobaria doesn't repeat herself!" Enobaria's muscular arms wrapped around Juna and pulled her up.
"No I don't." She smiled, her sharpened white teeth glinting. Juna poked Enobaria's cheek and smiled. Enobaria pecked Juna's cheek and set her down. "Let's check out the room you'll be staying in! I hear you get a pink bouquet of roses every night just for being related to a Victor!" How was I related to Juna again?
She's your sister.
Ah, and Enobaria?
Your mother's sister.
No wonder Father always had Enobaria over for dinner. Was Brutus related to me?
No, he's your father's friend.
I blinked a few times, and a man with purple hair and a white coat came up to me. He tapped on a few of the plastic sacks with clear liquid dripping from them. I watched as he shined a light in my eyes. First left, then right. My pulse was written down, and he began to take needles out of me.
When all of the needles were gone, my mask was removed, and the man looked at father.
"He need's to walk at least 100 yards a day. There are six pedometers in this bag. Please make sure he fills them." I looked down at what I was wearing. A loose pair of grey pants and a loose blue shirt. Father clipped a blue pin onto my shirt and helped me up.
I staggered at the sudden movement then gained my momentum. I put on a pair of Capitol running shoes and jogged out of the room. 100 yards was a piece of cake.
I walked around the hospital doing nothing. Enobaria had probably taken Juna back to Father's apartment and they were probably eating something covered in chocolate. People avoided me as I walked by. Of course they would. I was the tall, menacing Career that won the Hunger Games. I could crush their skulls in seconds. Yet, I was only eighteen. Eighteen and I had killed 13 people.
At least you won. You could have been one of the 23 dead, you know.
True, but what was I going to do afterwards? District 2 had many victors. Brutus, Enobaria, Graff, Kiern, oh there were many more. Then there was my sister's namesake and mother. Junallia. Mother was killed when she and Father visited District 12. There was a mining accident and she was too close to the entrance. Of course Father was distraught. He had wanted to destroy District 12, but knew it was against his better judgment.
Cato, would you like to visit District 12? It must be nice. With the mountains and the woods. You could train and swim, and do something fun.
That sounded nice, but weren't the two I had killed from 12? Who cares?
"Excuse me, could I have your autograph?" A little girl with blue hair and butterfly covered eyelashes looked up at me innocently. A Capitol child.
"Sure." I said, and she held a poster out for me. I unrolled the thick material and saw me in the arena. This poster must have cost a fortune to get before I was out of the hospital.
Maybe her parents were your sponsors. Look at those diamonds.
There were a large amount of diamonds on her dress. She was in very expensive attire, so her parents probably were rolling in money.I stared at the malicious grin on my face. I had a spear in hand and I was posed to kill the boy from 1. He cowered under me, his hands raised in defeat.
I uncapped the white pen and scrawled my name in the black area.
"Thank you!" She exclaimed in her high Capitol accent. I nodded and continued to walk. I tried to find doors that would take me to nowhere.
Keep walking.
I am, I'm trying to do that. My pedometer quickly filled up and began ticking into the 300 yard mark. It was when I reached 360, I found myself in front of my door. The doctor took in my condition and threw the rest of the pedometers away.
"You can go to your escort now. I doubt I've seen anyone with as much self restraint as you, tribute or no." He muttered, and I nodded. I hadn't snapped any necks yet. I felt no need, and nobody had annoyed me enough.
"Oh, I just knew you'd make it out alive!" The light voice of Hyelle Fren appeared. Hyelle's gold hair was rolled into a bun on the top of her head and had a small white hat with outrageously pink feathers acting as a veil. Her dress was gold and had white circle outlines on it.
"Now, because the prep team already worked on you when you were asleep, I think we should get you ready for your interviews." She hummed, and took my hand. She led me to a glass elevator and we rode down.
Her hair is blinding.
She chattered on and on about what my stylist, Willose, had designed for me.
"Ooh, I just can't wait to see the look on Effie Trinket's face! Her district hasn't had a Victor since the second Quarter Quell!" she trilled, and I dug through my mind to see if Hyelle had ever mentioned Effie Trinket.
She's the escort for District 12. You should know that.
We walked into a brightly lit room, and Hyelle left me. Willose appeared and congratulated me. She examined a scar and clicked her tongue, but said nothing. She handed me a white shirt and I put it on. She then began straightening the jacket and pants. I silently slipped those on as well.
Willose adjusted a few wrinkles and nodded.
"Go to your Mentors." She said, but it sounded like, "Go to yole Mentoles."
It's because of her tongue extension. That or she has bad accent problems.
I walked into a room with a few people in formal suits. Normal people. They were my mentors and family.
"Cato!" They all smiled, and I grinned. Did I know everyone in this room? I knew Father, Juna, Brutus, and Enobaria. Then there were Kelsa and Crassus. Those were the only I seemed to remember.
I was engulfed in hugs and praises. I shook hands and greeted other.
That's Lyme Quria. She's the one in the white shirt. Graff Varss, the one in the green suit. Allis Siln is the one in the blue dress. Then, Harsk Fletcher, he decapitated anyone in his way. That's why he has the necklace. It's the tip of his sword from the arena.
Really? Impressive. So, I was among the greats.
Your mother's not here. Remember watching her games? She waited and waited. Then after all of the big players were gone, and her partner killed, she poisoned the alliance and killed four people in one night. Remember how she made her finale as long as yours?
Oh, so that's where I got the notion to chop everything off. From my mother. I greeted Harsk and he slapped my back. I thought he looked around thirty-four.
"You're a good kid. I was rooting for you." He grinned and I nodded.
"Thank you, Mr. Fletcher."
"No, Mr. Fletcher is my grandfather. Call me Harsk, and I must say, your sister is quite the angel." He pointed and I looked over to where Juna and Kelsa were dipping vegetables into chocolate and making Crassus eat them. Crassus was grimacing and swallowing every chocolate dipped morsel to please his deceased mentor's daughter.
Your father will be shielding her from the Games.
I knew the Hunger Games were a raw wound in my father's heart. My mother had been in them, and her sister as well. I had been in them, and I had won, but my father drew the line there. Juna would not ever enter the games. My father had already brokered a deal with President Snow.
In exchange for fifteen new lethal weapon prototypes, Juna's name would never be entered into the drawing bowl.
She'll be safe. You know she will, and you approve of the deal.
I do. I approved of the deal, and I felt safe knowing Juna was safe. Harsk nodded and stepped away to laugh at Crassus.
Well, that was horrible. You should prepare for your interview. Flickerman won't want to wait forever.
Alright, let's begin. I could hear Hyelle's high heels clicking with every step she took.
"Alright, everyone! It's time for the interview! Remember, Cato, they will be showing the entire Hunger Games over again. Mind your manners and- oh hello, Juna! Where was I? Oh, mind your manners and do not shake your legs. Places!" She chirped and adjusted one of the feathers on her hat.
"Son, you've done your family a great honor, but remember the moment. It may all go away in the blink of an eye." Father patted my shoulder.
Or it could remain I don't know, forever? Not everything last's for a week. Just saying! Your old man is pretty cryptic.
He is, isn't he? I put on my award winning smile and prepared to step out onto the brightly lit stage.
"He's your favorite host! Caesar Flickerman!" The announcer shouted.
That was loud.
No. I listened to Caesar laugh about the games and how memorable all of the deaths were.
Stand up straight. Don't shake your legs. Mind your manners.
"And now, our Victor... Cato Arckenson!" The doors opened, and I walked out. Caesar was in a blinding blue suit. It had enough glitter on it to cover the surface of the sun. "Cato! How are you?!"
Good.
"I'm good, Caesar." I smiled. He pointed to a white chair.
"Do sit down." We sat at the same time and the crowd silenced. "Now, your finale reminded me very much of a certain someone's back around the, I don't know, 52nd Hunger Games? Ring a bell?"
That was your mother's games. She shredded her final enemy as well.
Really? Wow. That must have been quite the finale.
"Of course I do; that was my mother's year." I nodded.
You need to smile. Hyelle is going to go crazy.
I couldn't give a damn.
"Now, there are so many things we want to ask you. First off, what are you going to do now that the Games are over?"
You're going to go home and rest.
"I think I'm going to go home and rest." Caesar gasped in shock,
"But we love you so much! I haven't seen muscles and height like yours since Brutus or Finnick Odair! Come on, people! Look at the size of those muscles!" He exclaimed.
God, that's annoying.
"Well, they helped me win." I looked around for a familiar face. I was greeted by masses of pinks, purples, reds, blues. Silk, velvet, hats, birds, and veils. I began shaking my leg. Caesar noticed my discomfort and motioned for someone off stage to begin rolling.
The 71st Hunger Games began to play on the screen. First the tributes were announced. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, and then 12. The girl's name was Mellie Jecka.
What a strange name.
I remembered killing her. She hadn't put up much of a fight; scrawny little thing. With matted brown hair and gray eyes, she stared at me. I felt a shudder run through my body and the next person appeared. The Final Frontier. His name was Rye Mellark.