I know that I have to update The Otger Doppelgänger, and I'm still writing that chapter, but this idea has been bothering me for a while. The length can be blamed on the fact that I did it on my phone at around midnight the other night.
It was the day of the reaping, and district two was frantic. Young children hoped for nothing more than to bring pride to their district by winning the Hunger Games. Cato Manson however was solemn, and vowed to himself that should his fiancé be reaped, he would volunteer. Not for himself, and not for his district, but for the love of his life.
Clove Winterbottom hoped for nothing more than to not be reaped, for she knew that if she was, then her love would volunteer without a second of hesitation. It didn't matter to him that she was the top of her class, nor that she could kill a man twice her size without attracting attention. No, to him she was as fragile as a new born babe and needed far more protection. He would both die and kill for her, and she would do the same for him.
The two walked into the town square hand in hand, giving each other a quick peck on the lips, before walking into their designated pens.
Clove's heart began to beat rapidly as their district's escort Shinequa Higginbottom dipped her dainty hand into the large glass bowl following the outrageous video of Capitol propaganda. This year's outfit was severely mild compared to that of previous years'. Her actual body's appearance was far more severe. She had black and red crystals surrounding vivid violet eyes, her skin was a light blue, with her nails painted in the image of the mountains that were district two. Her outfit consisted of black heels that looked to be about a foot tall, and the skirt of her dress was black, with white that became more noticeable the higher on the dress, giving it the look of a mountain. Her blue and white hair completed her ridiculous ensemble.
She would continuously grab a slip of paper, only to grab another for a dull few minutes. Finally, she slid a slip of paper in between her thumb and pointer finger, and pulled it out of the name of the individual that would hopefully bring pride to her district.
She carefully unfolded the slip of paper and slowly read the name on the slip.
"Clove Winterbottom" With a confidant stride, Clove walked onto the stage, excitement glinting in her eyes. It would take one that knows her better than she herself does to notice the slight fear in her eyes.
Cato barely heard the name of the male tribute before he volunteered as tribute. Walking onto the stage, the lovers locked eyes, before shaking hands, this was the last time that their eyes would meet as lovers instead of enemies.
