Next door neighbours dog drags me from my sleep on reaping day, and I'm all but happy about it. I have to force my legs to slide of the bed I'm lying in and even so the rest of my body stays in position, my limbs don't seem to be working together or maybe my brains still a little bit hazy and not sending out the right signals because my limbs are heavy and have forgotten how to work.
After about 10 minutes of pulling myself from the warmth and quite allot of vomit I'm able to stand, but it's a regret the second I'm up and a groan escapes from my mouth. Every bone in my body aches, my brain feels like its pressing against my skull and my heads about to explode.
And then the litres of alcohol I consumed last night make a reappearance as I rush for the bathroom.
And then I remember my limbs aren't working once I fall flat on my face and puke all over myself. I pick myself up, ignoring my body's roaring protests and my way to the bathroom again.
I step right into the shower even though the shower turns from freezing to scorching before adjusting to the temperature you want. The cold shocks me and the heat burns my skin until its numb and then I'm vaguely aware of water pounding down on me but I can't tell if it's hot or cold.
So my limbs are less stiff and an ache still remains but my brain seems to be getting back into shape and soon as soon as I think I want to reach up for the soap, my arm obeys.
Thank god, I was worried for a sec. Considering that I'm going to volunteer for the Hunger Games later today it would probably be a good idea to make sure I'm still ticking.
As I step out of the shower with still a pounding head I decide I should clear that puke, maybe get a drink, possibly some fruit and get out of the house before my trainer arrives and finds out what happened last night.
Shit would sure hit the fan then.
And I'm probably going to need to find out some information about what exactly happened last night, because my mind fails me after about 9pm.
With the towel I used to dry my body with I fling it down onto my bedroom floor, over the puke and wonder to myself why it is we don't have a maid.
I take down the stairs slowly because the piercing pains through my head are almost unbearable. Almost.
I can hear the family, my mom's voice is loud and shouting. I wish I could say it was the hangover but even when I'm perfectly sober and not suffering a hang-over she's still too loud, and always talking, in her stupid too-loud shouty voice.
Upstairs I didn't have to open any curtains, and when I'm about halfway down the stairs I'm blinded.
Fucking great.
My brothers talking too in a quieter voice that's still only adding to my headache. I edge closer to the door and realise their talking about me, and the volunteering for the Games. He's telling her things she already knew and she's been denying.
I hear her weep and in reality it's probably not very loud, and it's muffled so I won't hear but it sounds like a siren from here and I can't take it.
My mothers' pink sunglasses sit by the front door and I don't even care about their colour or shape, fuck it, I can't see shit without them.
I shut the door with a bang and make my way out to the street, the pile of houses in which my house is located sits among other houses completely the same.
It's a quiet place. People walk their dogs, say hello over the fence, bring cake to the new family on the street and cut their grass every weekend.
A quiet place, but at the end of the street one family's parents just left town for the week and their teenage son just through a crazy party for me.
Like a stag do, but with girls, it was the last night of freedom party.
Every time I think further than 8:30 pm my head hurts and I have to sit down. I pass the final houses and get out of the council estate, straight into the town centre. I don't even have the time, but it must be early, the towns a ghost town.
I decide to hit the park, see if any kids are about my age, who were at the party, and could maybe give me some details.
I find them in the corner of the park by a basket swing smoking some weed.
And then I find out everyone knew I was there, at the party, but after about 10 pm I disappeared somewhere, and no one saw me.
Well fuck, I could have done anything.
After a night on the lash I like to find out what I did if my memory fails me, it's just good to make sure I didn't do anything too bad in case the capitol ask, when I'm District 2's victor and all.
The boys trail off, asking if I want to join them get high before the reaping.
They're crazy or plain stupid.
When I turn to the swing set one of them is occupied.
By the looks of it, it's just a little kid. Long black hair runs down her back and her figure is small and petite, her feet barley scrape the dusty ground and she's wearing some sort of summer dress.
The fact I predicted this to be a younger child almost gives me a heart attack when I walk over to see the one and only Clove.
I stand for a minute, wavering. I've never realised how small she was, how young the 15 year old really was, or, looked.
Her face is clear from all makeup and the usual black liner that graces her eyes is gone, with her hair smooth and soft bustling about in the wind, she really does look like a kid.
She is a kid, but she just looks younger.
And she's wearing a dress, I gets a kick out of that. But she does look pretty. Oddly.
I knock that thought out of my head sharpish though, and blame it on the alcohol.
"Is there something I can help you with?" It's the only voice all day that hasn't caused anymore pain in my head then already there and it sounds clogged, like she might have been crying, but she's very, very quiet.
"No" I say, but I'm interested, this can't be Clove. So I ask if I can sit. And she shrugs "free world" she says and catches my eye figuring both of us know that's not actually true.
We sit on the swings for awhile without wanting to break the perfect silence. You could hear the grass growing.
Why am I sitting on a swing set looking over the lovers lake with… Clove.
What the fuck? I laugh at loud which causes her to stir from her little world.
"What?" she wants to know. I shake my head. "Freak" she accuses.
But I don't move.
"Do you know what happened last night?" she asks after another peaceful silence.
"Nope."
There's a hopeful shine in her dark green eyes that I used to mistake for brown and as soon as my answer registers it's gone and she looks disappointed, and then she goes blank again.
"Do you?" I ask.
Clove doesn't beat around the bush, "You were with me, -"
It comes back
I find myself attached to the red, tight, way too short dress, that hugs perfect bumps and lumps and curves and stops halfway through a small thigh and really long legs. Clove.
The lights are flashing and music's blaring but Clove is clear to me, flashing in and out of my sight. I keep trying to find her in the night and I don't know why.
She keeps playing a game, grinding against me, biting and sucking on my neck, and then completely detangling herself from the sweaty mesh of bodies on the dance floor and strutting off, to the next guy or even girl.
Shaking those hips and rolling her body. Everyone's attracted to Clove tonight. Sadistic bitch they all would have called her earlier today, and me too.
But she's stealing the night, I want my last night of freedom to be with her.
It could be considered kidnapping, but I'll blame it on the alcohol. I find her getting a drink and yank her body into my arms, pushing through drunk people to find the door, to get away from the pounding music and get to her.
I shake my head as the memory of wanting Clove comes back quickly, all in a rush.
She continues "- we did some illegal things, -"
Clove looks up at the building we've found ourselves by, somehow we've found ourselves with cans of spray paint in our hands to, she's looking at me.
"Last night of freedom, they told me"
"Yeah before I volunteer for the Games"
"Then do you want to cause some trouble?" she shakes the can and takes the cap off.
It's the Justice building. I'm too drunk to understand why that piece of information is of value.
"I knew you'd be a fun time" I wink at her and she licks her lips and begins.
"FUCK THE CAPITOL"
"IT'S DANGEROUS TO BE RIGHT WHEN THE CAPITOLS WRONG"
I can't believe Clove feels this way, and I'm still too drunk to care so I take my paint and write
"PENIS"
Clove laughs, "perfect".
And she takes off running into the night stripping herself of her clothes and suddenly I'm following her.
I'll blame that on the alcohol too.
I hadn't even seen the Justice Building, but oh fuck.
That actually happened? I feel like laughing but I can't. I need to make the capitol love me, if they found that out they'd kill me. Quiet literally.
"- and then you kissed me, a proper kiss. Not the way we'd been making out all night."
"Lovers lake" I say leering at Clove.
"Alright buddy, sit down" she says pushing me to the floor.
"I think you should probably be taken home" she looks almost worried, but the look was a quick flash and it's back to the seductive and playful tone of her features.
Out of know where she wants to know if I'm volunteering for the Games.
"Yeah"
"Why"
"Why not?"
"Because,"- she presses "because I don't know." She gives up and slumps down beside me on the tree, gazing over the truly beautiful lake.
"What's wrong with you? First all that shit you wrote about hating the Capitol, then you're questioning me going for the Games? I've seen you train Clove, you want the same as I do, or, so I thought."
"Sometimes I just feel weird about myself. Sometimes, I want to put a knife in your heart and lick the blood from the blade. Sometimes I want to kiss you, protect you from that arena and the death that faces you. Sometimes I'd love to be in there too. I'm ready for the kill, the bloodlust excites me Cato and then sometimes I don't understand where it went so wrong. How I became so twisted, and I want to be dead myself. Just sometimes."
I'm not prepared for an answer like that. So we don't talk, for about 40 minutes the silence is heavy and slightly awkward but no one wants to leave the other.
"Sometimes I want to kiss you too" I tell her.
She smiles, "you did plenty tonight"
I think about her in training, never missing her target.
I think of her humming tunes to herself as she warms up.
The news we got of her being but into a metal hospital, cutting herself with anything she could find.
Shattered little pieces of her brain that were broken from who knows what. Broken, just like him.
Unfixable, twisted and unliked.
I think of the freckles that speckle her nose and her pale skin. Dark hair tumbling down her back and bright, but dark green orbs in wide-set eye sockets and those long thick black lashes and her perfect little pink soft lips.
I didn't want to bite or pull those lips for some reason, I just wanted to feel them.
"I want to really kiss you."
I find myself hesitating, weird.
"Go on" she whispers, daring me.
Well now I have to.
And in a swift moment my lips are on hers, just exploring and feeling each other. She's the sweet taste of cinnamon and honeycomb and everything Clove.
She doesn't understand her but maybe I can.
Never love her, we're not bred to love, she's got a certain hold over me though.
She wanted to protect me, even just sometimes. And I wanted to protect her too, all the time I realise things I once thought were important weren't so important anymore.
If Clove were to get reaped, I'd for sure volunteer, and if Clove and me went into that arena together being a victor suddenly meant nothing.
I look into Cloves eyes and feelings of last night rush through me.
I still remain the promise to protect her, and I can't blame it on the alcohol.