𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴 // thg

scars - clato

Clove's POV

Screams flew from Glimmer's mouth. Terrible wails that would be her last blended with the buzzing of the tracker jackers as she fell to the ground, her shrieks quieting to whimpers as the swarm continued its attack on her body.

My knife slashed Katniss's face as her lips were forever separated from her flesh; the same flesh my knife slit as it mutilated her body. She screeched as the blade worked its way around her form, etching horrible wounds into her limbs. The knife lacerated her skin a total of eleven times, once for every point wrongfully given to the girl who had been on fire. The last cut slit her throat with as much brutality the wielder of the knife could muster, ending her life, and ultimately, the games she'd been forced to play.

Glimmer. Katniss. Peeta. Rue. Their deaths swam through my head; a never-ending loop of pain and tragedy. In the end, had it been worth it? Did surviving truly matter that much if you felt more dead then the tributes you'd killed?

They consumed my slumber, inflicting nightmares upon me every time I'd close my eyes. Glimmer. Katniss. Peeta. Rue. The agony I'd caused them; ending their lives at the hands of a ruthless killer.

Glimmer. Katniss. Peeta. Rue. I'd scream their names into the night as I wailed in my sleep, waking up sweaty when it'd been freezing.

It had been so terrible, so terrible that suicide had seemed like a delightful escape on a multitude of occasions. I came close to the edge so, so many times, but the flickering light at the end of the tunnel had kept me from falling.

He was broken, too. He had killed no less people than me. Our shared suffering had led to an inseparable bond between us that even the worst of night terrors couldn't sever.

We each had our flaws; our fair share of scars. But our wounds weren't anything the other couldn't mend.