Chapter 1: The Reaping
Clove:
I stare blankly at the dust motes as they dance in the sunlight streaming through my window. There's nothing to do today except sit and wait for the reaping at one in the afternoon.
Most people would spend their time sobbing like the damn fools they are, but not me. Unlike them, I've been training for the Hunger Games since the day I turned 10, going for long runs, wrestling, throwing knives, all of that fun stuff. My favorite part is the knives, and I'm pretty much a prodigy when it comes to handling them. I'd be able to flaunt those skills if it weren't for those other careers volunteering before I get the chance to! But this is going to be my year, I can just feel it.
Just then someone bursts through my door and I turn around sharply, wielding a long, dainty knife in my hand. "Geez, Clove, put that thing away!" my sister shrieks, her voice coated thick with fear. I mean, sure, I'm pretty heartless, but I would never try to hurt my sister, Piper. "You know, a real lady would never even know how to use that knife. I mean, you're 15, it's time for you to embrace womanhood…" Ugh, there she goes again with her "Be a lady" speech. It's pointless, really, and I tune her out and play with the hem of my shirt because I will never, ever, succumb to her shallow, girlish ways. It's just a waste of time.
"Anyway, the reaping is about to start, let's go!" Piper chimes. Funny how a girly-girl like her can enjoy an event like the reaping. Aren't they supposed to be scared of this Hunger Games stuff? Eh, who knows, it is Piper we're talking about here. "Wait up!" I shout as she prances out the door, and I put away my knife and trot after her.
Cato:
I am one of the first people to arrive at the reaping. Punctuality is everything, right? Argh, I'm such a dumbass, no one cares if you come early.
My friends Granite and Rocky charge at me, knocking me to the ground. I can't help but think of how dumb their names are. I mean, yeah, sure, District 2 is the masonry district, but do you really have to name your kids after a rock? "Get off you idiots, let's not injure your next victor!" I say as I stand up, brushing the dirt from my clothes. "So you're really going to do it? Volunteer?" Rocky inquires. "Of course he's going to do it, he's Cato Eeron!" Granite shouts, slapping me in the back.
The town square has really filled up now and Kayval Wentsorth, District 2's escort, steps up to the microphone calling for everybody's attention in her odd Capitol accent. "Well then, let's get started!" she says with the excitement of a 6 year old on Christmas morning. After going through the motions that the reaping requires, she pulls a name from the girl's bowl. Sandy Torsbey is the name that's called, but before she can stand there is a shout from the crowd. "I volunteer!" the girl says. I look to see who it is as she struts across the stage. Clove? Clove Hartwood? Yep, that's her, same bitch she was 2 years ago when she threatened to cut out my throat for trying to start a conversation with her. Oh well, it was her loss.
My attention is diverted as Kayval crosses to the boy's bowl, drawing out a name. But before she can utter the first syllable I am heading up to the stage. "I volunteer as tribute!" I announce in my deep baritone voice. "And what are your names?" our escort asks politely. "Clove Hartwood." Clove says, spitting the words like venom into the microphone. "Cato Eeron." I say. "Okay then, it's decided! Your District 2 tributes for the 74th annual Hunger Games, Cato and Clove!" Kayval says, thick with praise for us in every note of her sing-song phrase.
The crowd erupts into a roaring applause, which I find quite flattering. I wink out at the cameras for good measure. Yep, that will definitely get me some sponsors. But Clove, on the other hand, is showing less emotion than a brick. She's so hard to read, and I'm determined to break her, but that will have to wait for our train ride to the Capitol.