A random oneshot I posted just because:)

Cato POV

As I look out over the arena, I play back my life.

When I was younger, my sister bringing me to training one day. Way before I was of age.

The first Hunger Games I really remember, when I was only five, the 61st Games. I remember feeling horrified at the death, then being caught up in the festivities and changing my mind.

I remember my sister dying in the quarry at 19 when I was 12.

And Clove.

When I met her at six years old.

When we started training together at eight.

When she died. In my arms.

When I finally plucked up the courage to kiss her, to tell her I loved her, only to find she was dead.

No more Clove.

It's then, and only then, that District Twelve shoots me. Ends my life.

Short, I know.

But Cato is a person deep down.

And I wanted to write that into a story.

Even if I did fail majorly.