Clove
When I wake up, I have less than a minute of peaceful oblivion before the feeling of dread from yesterday returns. "There is nothing that I can do about my situation", I tell myself. Nothing I can do, nothing I can do. I hate that sentence. It makes me feel helpless. I hate feeling helpless. I have to make a decision. But I have put it off for weeks and now it is the day of the reaping. I can volunteer, I want to volunteer, but there is one thing stopping me. My sister is pregnant. To volunteer would mean leaving her, and now she needs me more than anything else.
I run towards the cornucopia with a confidant smile on my face that feels very forced. But if I want to return to my sister I need to put on a good show. I didn't expect my name to be called for the reaping, but I'm a career. I have a dozen knives in my hand and I know how to throw them. I probably have many sponsors, so my chances are pretty high. But inside I am filled with hatred at the girl from district 12. She probably has more sponsors than all of the tributes combined. I see her running towards the woods. I could kill her from here. I throw my knife at her head and it lodges in her stupid backpack. If I hadn't killed that boy she would be dead now.
The arrow punctures my left arm. Luckily I throw with my right. I have never wanted to kill anyone so badly until now. She grabs the backpack and turns to shoot at me, but I'm quicker. My knife catches her in the forehead. Her arrow whizzes past my head as I slam into her, knocking her flat on the ground "where's your boyfriend, district twelve? Still hanging on?" I ask. "He's out there now. Hunting Cato." Then she screams, "Peeta!" I jam my fist into her windpipe and look back and forth quickly. Surely she couldn't be telling the truth? I look at her and grin with relief. "Liar, He's nearly dead. Cato knows where he cut him. You've probably got him strapped up in some tree while you try to keep his heart going. What's in the pretty little backpack? That medicine for lover boy? Too bad he'll never get it." I could never hate Peeta. I hope he dies from the wound, so I don't have to kill him. I select a knife from my jacket. "I promised Cato if he let me have you I'd give the audience a good show." She's struggling underneath me now. Words are coming out of my mouth now and I have no idea what I'm saying. I'm blinded by my hatred of her, that she can get so many sponsors because of other people. Next thing I register is someone picking me up and throwing me on the ground. It's Thresh, The one tribute that I am actually scared of. "What'd you do to that little girl? You kill her? You said her name, I heard you." did I say that? I don't remember. "No! No! It wasn't me! " You cut her up like you were going to cut up this girl here?" he brings a rock up and I lose it. Cato, "Cato! Cato! " I yell as he brings it down on my skull. A moan escapes my lips as I die. I see red and I can feel my skull shifting, but all I can think about is my sister. I let my hatred blind me and now she would be alone. I feel guilty and wish I could change it, but there is nothing I can do, nothing I can do.