Height: 5'6" - below average for age Weight: 107 lbs - below average for age - below healthy for height Hair: dark brown
- lack of nutrition for the last few years due to war and loss of main carer (father)
- father insisted on using his full name - mother calls him Tully - brother calls him Cat - brother's name is Flavian (Avi) - brother is eleven
- father was a Capitol sympathizer - mother mostly agrees with his beliefs - Cat also agrees, though becomes more skeptical through the war - Avi keeps questioning things but doesn't disagree
- Cat has some skill with technology, gained from his father - his mother taught him manners and how to act like a Capitolite
- father was executed by rebels within the district - Cat wasn't there but heard about it soon after - now takes care of his mother and brother - knows rebels killed his father, blames them for the mess everything became
The silence is the scariest. The way everyone holds their breath because they know something is going to happen, they just don't know what or when. That silence engulfs me now as I stare at the door. My dad had been gone for so long, too long, and there had been no gunfire all morning. Something was bound to happen.
The silence is shattered with a knock at the door. I'm leaping to grab it before sparing a moment's thought, uncaring if I were to face the barrel of a gun. The momentary relief of not seeing a gun is broken when I see the weary look on the face of the man before me. "Is this the house of Grant Brown?" The tone of resignation, the bowed head, a voice inside of me is screaming that something was horribly wrong.
"It is, he is my father." At my shorter height I tried to stretch myself and stand tall. Still, I was overshadowed by the man who looked down on me with such pity. "They got him, son."
My voice is suddenly tight and I'm trying not to shiver under the sudden chill in my spine. "They... who?"
He can't look me in the eyes and I'm starting to piece things together. "I'm so sorry."
"No. No..." He looks like he wants to walk away right there but something is holding him there, he has more to say.
"They hung your father."
Everything inside of me went numb. I marveled that I was still standing because I couldn't feel my legs.
"Who?" My voice doesn't sound like my own anymore, but the strength in it shocks me.
Now he finally meets my gaze, pity and disgust mixed in his eyes. "Who else," His lip curls and he looks like he might throw up.
My father dreamed that we would move to the Capitol one day. He had diligently served and practically worshiped the Capitol since long before I was born, and had converted my mother into feeling the same way - at least mostly. My brother and I were named after the Capitol fashion and he insisted on calling us by our full names, Catullus and Flavian.
Our mother called us Tully and Avi; we called each other Cat and Mouse.
With our father dead, I became the head of the household. My mother picked up some work but I was the one to make sure Mouse got to school, kept up on his studies, and escorted him anywhere we went. She was always afraid that he or I would be harmed like our father had been, but after the war we simply kept our heads down like the rest of the populace and no one really noticed us.
We get by, mostly. I do my best to make sure my mother and Mouse are fed, though I sometimes go hungry. That was what it meant to be the man of the house. Mouse is five years younger than me but he can almost look me in the eye. I never was as tall as the other boys and now I feel like I'm being left behind. I'm skinny, too, but that's what happens when you don't eat as much as you should.
My mother won't let me try to find a job because she's afraid my name will cause us problems. My first name is a mark of the Capitol and my last name is one designated a traitor. There are still too many rebels around to reveal who we really are. Unless we absolutely have to we never say our full names. I'm Cat, my brother is Avi, and Mom is just Mom. We are not the Browns anymore, except for on paper. It's just not safe.
The rebels ruined our lives, and the lives of so many others. By killing my father, by continuing to cause problems, by starting this whole fucking war in the first place. We would have all been better off if they had just stayed quiet. Now we have to watch twenty-four kids get nabbed up and kill each other until just one is left. The Hunger Games, they call it.
I'm terrified that they called it the First Hunger Games. They make it sound like there will be more of them. This time it was prisoners from the war, mostly. I can see the faces, terrified, arrogant, blank, once again. Some of them had done nothing wrong, some of them had started all of this. Could just anyone get taken?