A/N: Hey, everyone. So, I do believe that this is my first attempt at a Hunger Games fic, so I hope you enjoy it. I read the Hunger Games for the first time several years ago, just a few months after it came out. It was fabulous, and I always adored the odd relationship shared between Cato and Clove.

I realize that much of the Cato/Clove fanfiction that exists is extremely dark and twisted. This makes sense, but I don't personally believe that Cato and Clove were as completely insane as many people believed them to be. So, I will warn you that in this fic, their relationship is, yes, quite twisted. But the story is more on the focus of them trying to untwist themselves, return to normality as opposed to accepting the insanity brought to them by the Games. This probably doesn't make much sense, but I would realy love it if you stuck with the story to find out what I mean by the end. Thank you!

Disclaimer: I promise you, I do not own The Hunger Games.

Also, by the way, I'm loving that Cato/Clove is like all the rage now that the Hunger Games movie has completely screwed them up.

I have always wanted to die. But I never could.

I am ruthless. I am small. I am hateful. I am white like diseased foliage that refuses to crumple away. The world spins in my eyes, but I am plenty strong enough to keep it still.

I've always wanted to die, but to set myself up for death would be a lie that I could never stomach. When my time comes, I want it to be for real. Because in that way, death is beautiful. So present, so commanding. I have to salute the one thing that is never beaten at its own game.

Therefore, I've always wanted to compete in the Hunger Games. Everyone in District 2 does, but not in the way I do. They want glory, fame, money. They wish for the life after.

The ground surrenders to my feet as I cross it, staring ahead with blank black eyes. My ebony hair is all piled on the top of my head the way I like it. I wear a white dress that falls straight to my knees. It's simple and I don't really care about it.

I finally take my place in the crowd. Everyone is rowdy, whooping and cheering. I stand with the sixteens and look back at my mother and father. Both sets of eyes are locked on me, and they only nod slowly. Reassuring? I don't know for what. I suppose they just want me to come home.

I don't bother talking to anyone. I only wait for the chaos in anticipation of the Reaping to die down. Suddenly, the District 2 escort, Aoife, is on the stage.

"Welcome, District 2, to your Reaping for the 74th annual Hunger Games!" she shouts enthusiastically. Her skin is pure white, and so is her hair, which falls stick straight to her hips. Her eyelashes are obviously enhanced, as they extend inches beyond physically possible lengths. They turn from black at their roots to bright orange, which contrasts weirdly with her emerald green eyes. She wears a purple outfit that puffs up in incredibly strange places. She moves her arms animatedly, but her wrists are always bent forward, and they absolutely never straighten out. It gives her the distinct appearance of a bird. I wonder if that's just her manner or if it's something surgically engineered on purpose.

After a clip from the Capitol plays on the large screens surrounding us, Aoife speaks. "I will now select your female tribute for this year!" Everyone is on edge as her broken wrist plucks out a folded strip of paper form the giant reaping ball. She opens it with some difficulty. And then, with a breath, she calls, "Clove Carliff!"

It's me, that's really what it is. A ghost of a smile passes over my face as I rise to take my place on the stage next to Aoife. "Any volunteers?" No one raises their voice, but I can see them burning with jealousy. "Congratulations, Clove. I can tell that you are going to represent District 2 honorably." Sure. "And on to the gentlemen!"

She chooses a piece of paper from the boys' reaping ball, using both of her bent wrists this time. I scan the crowd of boys all lined up and waiting. I know quite a good number of them, but a lot of them I don't recognize. This is undoubtedly due to the set up of District 2. It's organized into little separate villages centered around mines. No one has much reason to interact with people on different sides of the district from them.

"Cato Roman!" Aoife shouts. This is a name I don't happen to recall. I don't mind. That makes it easier to plunge my knife into his stomach when the time comes. Not that I would have had any qualms with that even if I had known him.

I'm not paying attention anymore, but I faintly register a tall, blond young man with a smirk (I can only call him a man as he appears to be eighteen and has a mature, large, strong build) emerging from the mass of people. He confidently takes his place onstage with me. Aoife asks for volunteers. A few boys start to step forward or raise their hands, but are quickly stopped by others surrounding them. This is peculiar to me, because usually volunteering, especially for the male tribute spot, is a long and complicated process in this district. You almost never see a lack of male volunteers.

And then we turn to shake hands as per protocol. This is the first time I actually get a good look at him, and I am immediately overtaken with extreme fear. His rough hand swallows mine as he gives it a firm shake, his blue eyes boring straight into me. But I do not fear him because he is big, or clearly dangerous. It is because I am painfully hit, for the first time ever, with a strong, desperate desire to live.

He releases me and I turn away from him as quickly as is possible. I wonder if he notices my unsettlement.

We are ushered into separate rooms within the Justice Building for our goodbyes. My parents come in first. "You have to win, okay Clove?" my mother says. "You need to come home."

I nod. "I will." I know without a doubt that I possess the skill and ability required to win. And I will fight as hard as I can to win. But when death comes, as I'm sure it will, I will finally go. No protestation as soon as it is certain. My mind briefly flashes back to being on the stage with Cato, and I remember my doubt in this. But I suppress the thought.

My father tells me, "You can do it. All of your training, all those years have been for this." He is right. I have been training for the Games since the age of seven, just as all the children do. Then, a few more words are exchanged, and they are gone. I know they believe that I will be back for them.

Next, a girl from school enters the room. I don't know if I consider Lennox a friend. In District 2, nobody likes to admit that they care about anyone else. This makes it difficult to have friends at all.

Lennox sits down across from me. "I came," she starts with a breath, "to warn you." My eyes narrow. What does she think I need? "I know you don't want that, but I also know that you don't know Cato."

I lean forward, rest my arms on my knees. "So, who is he?"

"He's from East Two," Lennox informs me. District 2 is split up into five sections: North Two, East Two, South Two, West Two, and the Center, where all the Capitol buildings (Justice Building, Communication centers, etc.) are. The Reaping is always held in the Center. I'm from North Two. Lennox continues, "He's the best of the best in training over there. A killing machine."

I wonder somewhat why I've never heard of him if he's so feared, but I realize that it makes a little bit of sense because training for the Games in District 2 is separated into two different communities—West Two and North Two are together, and East Two and South Two are together. I know about anyone who's good enough to be a potential victor within my training community, but the other one? Don't know much about them.

"Alright," I say. "What was the deal with no one trying to take his spot? I saw a few people almost volunteer, but they were stopped by others."

"Noticed that, did you?" Lennox asks, and I nod. "It's because they know that anyone who tried to take his spot would definitely get beaten to an irreparable pulp, whether it was before he left for the Games, or after he returns as victor."

This stings a little. "So you're saying I have no chance?" I don't believe it, but I don't like to think that other people do.

"No, I'm not saying that," Lennox shrugs. "Just be careful around him. He'll beat anyone for anything." With that, she leaves. I have no other visitors.

A/N: How was it? Please let me know if you spot any typos or grammar mistakes! I know that chapter may have been a bit slow for some people, but it's just the introduction, which is always hard for me to write. So, please REVIEW and let me know how I've done. Thank you!