A/N: No more excuses, my laptop charger came in today! So here's another chapter! :D My the way guys, the tildes represent a change into a third person POV that I wrote since, well…Peeta passed on. So the POV will change, I'm just writing the other characters now. Here you go, Chapter 11—Cato's POV.

Months pass and I'm finally home in District Two. Well, I'm in my new home—the one in Victors' Village. It's only slightly bigger than my old home, but it sure is better looking, inside and out. Along with the house comes more food than I've ever had at home, which really says something considering I've always been well fed. My room is bigger, too. That's a good thing if you take into account how much time I spend locked in my room.

Coming back to District Two was interesting, to say the least. Some people kinda hated me for my actions in the Games, others were glad I won because that means I brought our District pride, and my mom was just glad I'm alive. I don't really know how my dad feels since he's always at work, but he's always been a cold person in general, so I can't help thinking he wouldn't really care either way. At least it gave him a better house to sleep in.

I don't have to live with my family, but what can I say? I like the company.

On the other hand, the Capitol absolutely loved us. By us, I mean me and Peeta Mellark. They really buy into that sappy romance shit over there. I don't really understand what was so appealing about our relationship though, since it was so short lived, but at least they don't despise me. And if they loved us so much, why didn't they sponsor us? Did they think we could live without? I mean, we were pretty well off considering we had all of those packs, but still…all that money and not one sponsor.

Speaking of Peeta, sometimes I wonder what it's like back in District Twelve. He said people hated him, but he never told me why. I still refuse to believe it, though. He wasn't all that bad, and he had a cute sense of humor. Are they happy that they finally got rid of him? Is his family still upset, or do they not care? Does anybody miss him?

I miss Peeta Mellark.

Sighing, I roll over on my bed and open the drawer to my nightstand. There are a lot of pointless items in this drawer, ranging from beige notepaper, a book, rubber bands, and a few dull pencils, but there is one important thing in it. I dig through the drawer, underneath everything else, and finally take out a picture frame. In the frame is a photograph of me from right after the Games. I slaughtered every tribute after Peeta like I promised, so of course the Capitol decided it was a great photo op. Especially since my final opponent was Katniss Everdeen, Peeta's partner from District Twelve. The people in the Capitol seemed to think that was pretty ironic.

I don't put the frame on my nightstand—not yet. I just hold it in my hands as I lie on my bed, staring at it. My face in the picture looks nothing like me at all…or at least, not the old me. I look so lost in this because Peeta wasn't with me. He sort of was, though. At least, his jacket was. I won the Games with his jacket. There were nights where I could've frozen to death if I didn't have that jacket because there's no way I would've left a fire going in the middle of the night. Besides keeping me warm, that jacket meant everything to me after Peeta left. That's why I kept this picture. And the jacket itself.

I haven't been doing much since I've been home. For the first few weeks, I refused to eat most of my meals. I just couldn't bring myself to enjoy food. Then I realized that I'd die without eating, which at first, I was okay with, but I gave in and had a huge breakfast of scrambled eggs and pancakes. There were some days where I would go out for long walks, but usually, I'd stay in my room. I had no idea what to do with my life. If there's no Peeta, what's the reason for me being here? There are no more Games to be played. There's no one left to love. No one left to die for.

It's very early in the morning now, maybe two o'clock, judging by how long the sun has been down. I look at the calendar and realize that it's November 1. I remember what today is. Peeta would've been turning seventeen today. I look back at the picture in my hands and soon the glass inside the frame becomes stained with my tears because I lost the boy from Twelve.

I wake up from my rough, depressing sleep to the smell of bacon creeping up from the kitchen. My sleep was plagued with nightmares of Peeta killing himself in a million different ways, about half of them including me killing him myself. Those were some of the worst. In the last one, he said as he was dying: "Cato, love, you're killing me on my birthday? I thought you loved me…" And it goes on. I'm just lucky my mom's cooking woke me up. Not that I'm really in the mood to eat.

Today is a good day to take a walk, so I put shoes on, single-knot them, and check the mirror. I don't even bother changing out of clothes anymore; I'm still wearing the same jeans and sweatshirt that I wore yesterday and went to bed in. Socks and all. I walk down the stairs and out the door, not bothering with the food. Maybe I'll eat it later. My mom would understand.

I spend my time outside just walking around, looking at all the places I could hang out at. Shops, the Square, small restaurants...stuff like that. But they're all too public. I just need to find a place for my own. Just to let things go-let myself go. There's just no point in anything anymore. I didn't do what I entered the Games to do. No wait, scratch that. I did. Peeta's death was my fault. I let him leave that stupid cave.

But now what? The Capitol still owns me. I hate the Capitol for everything. They always take away the things I love. Everything just generally sucks now.

First, I walk along the railroad tracks. I could run away, end up in the woods, then let whatever happens...happen. Or I could stow away on a train and go somewhere else. But that's something I don't want to think about. Soon enough, I'll be on that train to District Twelve on the Victory Tour. Two months.

Sighing, I turn around and start walking back to my house. And, just to keep myself a little bit sane for the moment, I quietly sing 'happy birthday' to myself. ~

The square in Two is always busy at this time of day. People rushing around on their lunch breaks, others picking up young children from school, and tribute hopefuls running back to their afternoon combat classes. The post carriers, who base themselves in the Justice Building, all rush out simultaneously, bringing letters and newspapers of all kinds to the people. One has a package, which is unheard of-things like that are very expensive to ship. Even for people from the Capitol. As soon as the young man sees the blonde victor in the crowd, he rushes over, calling out the boy's name. He knows him well enough. He's done the mail in Victor's Village for years now. "Cato!" ~

"What?" I pick my head up and look to the side in the direction of the voice. "Oh, hey..." Although I haven't seen the mail carrier in a while, he still looks familiar. I haven't really been leaving the house much or answering the door, but sometimes I do. So I know him. ~

"You've got a package!" He says excitedly, holding out the medium-sized box wrapped in plain, brown paper and covered in stamps and shipping stickers. "From the looks of the postage, from far away, too. Probably cost a pretty penny to send it here." It's rare for packages to be sent, especially from outer districts, but when it did, it was all normally for Victors. They're the only ones who had reason to contact other places, anyway. ~

Warily, I take the box and hold it up to eye level. It's not heavy at all. Nothing moves around in it. And I have no idea who would be sending me a package anyway. "It has no name on it...? No one knows where it came from?" ~

"Not with a shipping route like that, kid." He laughs. "That box has been through hell and over. But it's probably someone from the Capitol. They're the only ones who can ever afford anything like that-and I wouldn't be surprised if they were interested in you!" He winks playfully. ~

"Ah, yes, of course." They all are now, after seeing what I can do. "Okay, well...thanks for this." I shake it a little. "I wonder what it is." ~

"If I see you soon, I'll be sure to ask! I have to get going on my route now..." He glances at a watch. "But it was lucky I found you! It's going to be a good day. I can feel it." He waves before running off in the direction from which he came. ~

Oh, yes, of course, today's the greatest day in the history of mankind. Nonetheless, I wave goodbye and continue the short walk to my house. I can already smell the bacon, making me hungry. Maybe I should eat soon.

Once I get into my house, I take the package up to my room and lay it on my bed. "Hmm." I start to unwrap the brown paper and pull the flaps off the box inside. At first, I'm confused when I open the box because it's all just a bunch of hay. Then, I move it to the side and see another box. "Really?" I take out the smaller one and rip it open. There's some sort of maroon-colored fabric in it, so I pull it out. It looks like a shirt...

But it's not. It's so familiar. The color, the pattern, the '2'...

"Oh my god," I say, holding my hand to my mouth. It's my jacket from the Games. The one he died in. "Who..." My eyes wander to the box, which has something else in it. It's just a notecard with black, smudged fingerprints all over it. And on it is written:

See you soon, love.

P.M.

"P. M." No. It can't be. "What the fuck is this?" As if on cue, the sobbing starts. "I thought I was done with this fucking shit!" I crumple the note and throw it onto my nightstand. Then, I focus my attention on the jacket. Who the hell would send this shit? And sign it P.M.? There must be a lot of sick fucks out there.

I roll the jacket into a ball and toss it out the window. I don't want it in my house. ~

A/N: People are just mean to Cato is all. :/ Let me know what you think with reviews. xx