It's morning. My stomach hurts and it takes me awhile to remember why. Then I remember what happened last night, and it's like I've been punched. I hear the hovercraft and it's another punch, doubling me over. I can't even breathe. It shouldn't be this way, but because of yesterday, I know what my future holds and I don't know if I can put my feet on the floor.
"Clove, get out of bed. Today's the Reaping and we have to be there, even if we aren't going to volunteer this year," my brother Aldo yells at me from the other room. I'm in District 2, and the Reaping is more symbolic than anything. People volunteer each year based on who is most likely to win the Hunger Games and bring honor to our district. We train from childhood and whoever is best volunteers. I'm the best of the girls, but it's already been decided that this is not my year since I'm only 15. There's still time to get even better and guarantee a win.
Our instructors decide ahead of time who's best suited, and as always, they are both 18 year olds who are in their last year eligible to be tributes. The guy's name is Cato and we're not exactly friends, but we know each other pretty well. Salome, the girl, was friends with my oldest brother before he became a Peacekeeper and was sent off to 11. Salome is who I need to find today. She might be mad, but I don't have a choice. Things need to change.
I put on my best dress and check the mirror before I leave my room. My mother passes by the door and sees me looking in the mirror. She does a double take and chortles. "Why do you care what you look like, Clove? The camera won't even be on you today! Or are you trying to impress someone?" she asks me. I just smile at her before going to check if Aldo is ready. He's 17 and angry he didn't get to volunteer this year. My mother is relieved. She wants all her sons to be Peacekeepers, not Victors. Rare for our district, she actually values love above honor.
I go into Aldo's room without knocking. He is leaning out his window talking softly to someone, and is obviously startled when I clear my throat to get his attention. He stands up and I see a flash of white-blonde hair dart out of view. He was talking to Salome. This is my chance. I turn and run from the room. I have to catch her before she gets to the Reaping. I skid a bit turning the corner from the living room, snatch my knives off the table, and tear outside after her.
"SALOME!" I yell, kicking rocks up with my feet as I run. She looks back and sees me, and slows somewhat before stopping and allowing me to catch up. She doesn't turn around as she starts to talk to me.
"Okay, fine, you caught me, I was talking to your brother rather than preparing. What do you want?" she asks with more than a considerable amount of attitude.
"I don't care that you were talking to Aldo. I don't care what you're doing today. It doesn't matter. You don't need to prepare. Let me volunteer for you." I'm not begging yet, but I'm prepared to beg and I'm prepared to fight. I will be the female tribute for District 2 this year. I have no alternative.
"Why the hell would I do that, kid? First of all, I promised Cyrus before he left for 11 that I would watch after you and Aldo. Second of all, I know I can win. Third of all, it's set in stone. The instructors decided. If you'd had a problem, you should have taken it up with them before they announced the final decision." She studies me with her pale eyes. She's always been intuitive and she can tell something's wrong. I weigh the risks of showing her all my cards before deciding to just be honest and see what happens.
"I didn't need to go before today. I need to go, Salome. You have plenty of options. You could become a trainer at the academy. Maybe one day they'll reassign Cyrus back home and you two can even pick up where you left off. Something happened last night. I can't stay. I have to volunteer." Maybe I can just be vague and skirt around the details. Maybe she doesn't need to know everything.
"Not happening. It's in the plan. 'There are no surprises on Reaping Day in District 2,' right? Just like they always tell us. I don't care what happened to you. You're 15; life goes on. You know what I think? I think you know you're better than me and want to prove it to the world. Honey, you don't know what you're getting into. You haven't finished your training. Take a deep breath and who knows, maybe you'll volunteer next year!"
She's not buying it. I have to be completely honest. So I tell her about last night. Her eyes open wide and she looks like she's about to say something before she takes off running again. And she's really fast. Damn. This is not going to be easy.
"SALOME! I HAVE TO VOLUNTEER TODAY!" I scream as I chase her towards the academy. I know where she's going and I know why. I can't let her get there. She doesn't stop and I don't have a choice. I take out one of my knives and throw. It's a narrow miss and she stops abruptly and turns to face me, face snarled with a mixture of derision, anger, and maybe a flicker of fear.
"You wouldn't hurt me to take my place. You wouldn't do it. Not to me, not to Cyrus, not to District 2, not to yourself. You would ruin everything. You've made enough of a mess already."
I don't have a choice. I don't want to do it. If I've learned anything about myself in the past 2 days, it's that I can be cold when I need to be cold. I can hurt when I need to hurt. If I'm going to win this thing, I'm going to have to be cold. Before Salome has a chance to react, I take out a knife – the knife – I look her in the eyes, I cover her mouth with my hand, and I slit her throat. I watch her die, blonde hair fanned out around her crumpled form on the side of the path, and then I take off running again.
