*Everything belongs to Suzanna Collins. I just love Hunger Games SO MUCH! Especially Cato and Clove! So i had to right a fanfiction to show my love. Otherwise i couldn't be called a die hard fan, right? This is my first fan fiction so i hope you like it and please tell me what you think :D
Runaway
Chapter 1
I remember everything that led up to right now. It seems a little ridiculous but it's happened and I did it. As I sat here on the edge of a cliff, my feet dangling over the side, my dark hair whipping around me, my glowing eyes watching the kids fifty yards away and 50 ya0rds below me, running happily through the village. It was a simple life. Peaceful. You wake up early enough to watch the sun rise over the mountains, you eat a hardy breakfast, you do your chores which usually consist of milking the cows or cleaning the stables, rounding up the herd, trading or collecting things in the village.
But this wasn't always my life, actually this was nothing near it.
I came from District 2, training ever sense the day I could walk. No matter how small I was I loved to wrestle, hand to hand combat, flipping over people, choking them, feeling the power, seeing them cry or beg. My father was a victor of the Hunger Games, from what I heard one of the best, not to cocky, talented, skilled, all around a good person. He was in love when he entered the Hunger Games and expected to come out and start a new life with her. But when he got back she was dead, people say she killed herself but he knew the truth. The capitol always does this, they had killed the Victor's loved ones. Because of that he turned to drinking, every little drop, sucking the bottle dry before grabbing another one, or sometimes drinking two bottles at the same time. On his Victory Tour, All the alcohol had finally tainted his blood and he went crazy, one day luring a woman into the train and raping her. Making her pregnant. SHe couldn't protect herself, she didn't know how to. She was from a poor district, a district where every year their tributes died in the bloodbath. I think it was her that made me do what I did, made me feel pity for the other districts. She was the one that helped me form my plan.
He kept the woman around till she gave birth to me. He was disappointed to see it was a girl. He wanted a boy to represent him in the Hunger Games. He wanted more fame and fortune sense people where forgetting about him. Because I wasn't a boy this meant I had to train harder, and he did everything in his power to make me strong.
I had trained sense I was 3 years old and made sure I became friends with all the best competitors. In District 2, a girl named Clove was the best knife thrower and a boy named Cato was best at…. pretty much everything. But specialized in Swords and was a great wrestler. They were the people to help me with my plan. Over training I made sure they noticed me and I made sure to be involved with them as much as possible. And over time I became close with them and they trusted me with their talent. It wasn't easy though.
-Flashback-
"I can't wait till I get reaped!" Clove said excitedly as she kicked at the body bag that hung from the ceiling.
"You'll defiantly give them a hell of a show," I laughed as I scaffold to the right on the rock wall, pausing at times so I didn't get punched off by one of the mechanic arms that was rigged to pop out randomly from the wall. If you were punched you would feel a sharp pain because at the end of the arm was a sharp needle point, piercing a small hole in you. But by the end of the lesson your body has learned to heal faster and absorb pain since you get use to it. I ducked from the dangerous arms that wanted to stab me and swung lightly from rock to rock.
"We could rule this place Clove," I said as I finally finished, jumping down to the ground, walking over to the water tank, wrapping a white towel around my neck and wipping the sweat from my forehead. She stopped kicking at the punching bag and turned to me, " I smell an evil idea," She grins. "That or probably just smelling me. I do need a shower," I laugh and she joins in. "But Clove just think about it, if where both going to go into the Games and we both give them an awesome show, we both live in the victor village, we could dominate District 2! They all would know and love us, having to do what we say." I smile. "But I feel like your not even getting any challenge, your good at other things but you mainly focus on knives, I could-," She looked at me with a huge smile. "The great Sophia wants me to teach her how to throw knives?" She pretended to sound shocked. I just looked away embarrassed. "I could teach you how to wrestle, we could challenge each other," She walks over to me "Deal, but promise me when you're in the games you make sure to thank me in your interviews," I laugh "Yes you get all the credit,"
And after that moment she trained me every other day for about 30 minutes. And the day we both turned 10 we were as strong as each other,"
-End of flashback-
-Another flashback-
I walked out of the locker room and was heading down the long cold hallway when I heard the sound of frustration; I followed the noise into one of the training rooms for the older kids. Sure enough there was Cato cutting the body parts of dummies, the fake blood splattering on him. I stopped and leaned against the doorway watching him until he was done.
"That's very attractive," I smirked, I didn't really know him but everybody knew his name. The best wrestler, the best swordsman there probably ever was. He just looked up at me and smirked back "Jealous?" He was trying to show off. "Barely. I need to talk to you," I say walking up to him. "I want you to train me, make me stronger. Sword and wrestling," he just laughs. "You? Fuck no," I outstretch my hand and try to grab his arm, he saw it coming and reached out and grabbed my wrist, twisting it and trying to get it behind my back but at the moment he touched me, I rolled in, putting my back to his chest and with my other hand punched down on the fold of his arm. I then elbowed him when he let go of my other arm. I turned around and jumped on him, digging my knee's into his back and locking him in a choke hold. He barely struggeled, just smiled and walked over to a wall. "Giving you a chance to get off," He warned. I choked him harder and he rammed back into the wall. Before I came in contact with it though, I put my feet in his hips and pushed myself off, jumping over him and rolling on the ground. When I turned around to see his pained look on his face I laughed. He stormed up to me, furious. I was waiting for him to hit me but somehow I knew he wouldn't, that's why I gently grabbed his hand and put it on my face. He tried so hard to contain himself. "This is what I admire about you, you can hold in your anger. This is why I asked you to train me. Your strength, your honor, pride, even your cockiness," he took his hand off my face and I began walking away, and before I was completely gone I turned around. "Tell me when you're ready to start training me handsome," I winked before leaving him alone.
The next day he had found me, a little embarrassed as he came up to me, "Today we start after training. You won't be as lucky as you were yesterday when we wrestled," He smirked, looking down at me. I liked how tall he was compared me, he was around 5'6 while I was 4'11. He was still gorgeous and I loved looking up at him, his somewhat spiky dirty blonde hair, his eyes that were cloudy sky blue, filled with mystery and strength. Beauty. I laughed at his comment, "Oh you called that wrestling? Well prove me wrong," I challenged before walking away to join my other personal trainer.
Every other day that I didn't train with Clove I trained with him. And by the time I was 10 I was as quick and almost as strong as him.
-End of flashback-
I would say life was good, trained hard with my two best friends. They never knew that I hung out with both of them. Every year I would anxiously watch the Hunger Games, secretly feeling bad for the other weak districts. I would sit in the crowd in the middle of our town and watch it on the big screen, sometimes even sleeping out there, talking to Clove, listening to her laugh at the tributes who died. We always took those days off of training to watch and strategize. She truly was my best friend.
And when the Hunger Games was over I would walk home and lock myself in my room, sneaking down to get some breakfeast and then rushing back upstairs. This was when my father was most violent, most drunk. One day I didn't make it up to my room fast enough and he grabbed a hold of my high pony tail. He threw me down to the ground. "Where you going? Up to you're bedroom. Got a boy up there, hmm? You whore!" He shouted before swinging a fist at my head, holding a bottle clutched in his other hand. I grabbed the closest chair and swung it at him, blocking the swing. He stumbeled back, the bottle crashing to the floor. I heard him scream in anger. I scrambeled to get up and ran for the stairs. About halfway up I felt him grip my ankle and pull me down the rest, getting on top of me and beginning to throw punches at my face and head. His knee's on my arms, his foul breath and unclean body odor the only thing I could smell. About 10 minutes of the beating he stopped and leaned back, looking down at me with satisfaction. I coughed up blood, my head swelling, and my eye darkening, my lips torn and cut and blood pulsing. I looked up at him and spit at him, making sure it got in his eye. His breathe began to quicken and he leaned down to begin choking me but this time I was ready. I head butted him and swung at the side of his head, knocking him off. I smashed his face into the wall over and over and then threw him down the stairs. Leaving him bleeding, groaning, his hand cut open by the glass from the bottle he broke earlier, seeing his nose was broken and deformed. I slowly walked up the rest of the stairs, not worried that he would attack me, and walked into my room. Slamming the door closed. This was the last straw, It was time for my plan to be put into action. I was ready.
I changed into some cargo capris and a green v-neck, slipping on my white tennis shoes. I fixed my hair, putting it back into a perfect high pony tail. I then walked over to my desk and got out to pieces of paper, writing one to Cato and one to Clove. Making it simple so they wouldn't have to worry or care. Not like they would that much, we're from district two, we're suppose to be heartless and cold. But they were kind of different. I made it simple. "Thank you for everything, good luck in the games. I won't forget you. Maybe in the future we can see each other again. Stay you forever and kick some ass." I tucked the notes in my pockets and unlocked my door and walked down the stairs. I bent down to my father's body and reached for his neck, ripping off the necklace the woman he loved gave to him. Because of the capitol he turned into this monster. It was that lady that kept him sane, that made him him. And I wanted to remember her so maybe she could keep me, me. I tied his necklace around my neck, it was just a black leather, thin string with a small thick, silver circle hanging in the middle with fancy carved words "survive" I walked over to the closet and grabbed a thin leather coat and put it on, filling the pockets with food when I went into the kitchen. Grabbing some bananas, a water bottle, apples, wrapping up lots of meat, packing bread and cheese. When I was done I looked back at my father, laying unconscious on the floor. Or I hope he was unconscious. But it didn't matter, I glanced at him before I left that house forever. Never turning back.