My name is Clove Kentwell and I am from District 2.

I was born on the 13th June. I have a brother called Spear who is only two years older than me.

I was reaped in the 74th annual Hunger Games where I promised to win and bring pride to District 2, bring pride to my parents who had wanted this for so long.

But I lost.

I was killed by that freak Thresh from District 11, how was I supposed to know he could hear me bragging about the death of that little girl from his District. Wasn't he meant to be looking after himself anyway?

If he hadn't come along I could have won, no, I would have won these games.

This is the story of my life. What happened before the games and during the games, my friends my family and the events that shaped who I am.

It began at the birth of me; District 2 is one of the only Districts which actually have a hospital. Outside stand Peacekeepers with guns ready at their disposal. The building is a dark grey with the Capitol logo taking up the whole wall at the front, a reminder of who is in charge in this world.

My father is a Peacekeeper, he came home to find my mother on the bathroom floor screaming in agony while my brother sat beside her asking if 'mommy' was okay. He rushed her to the hospital fear within his voice wondering if his wife should be bleeding that much, his son hadn't caused so much blood to flow so why did his new child? Sweat dripped from his forehead as they were rushed into a room and he was ushered out.

He and my brother sat outside the room waiting to hear any piece of the news the doctors had to offer.

After another hour of waiting for news a doctor finally walked out the room but there was no smile on his lips. He let out a sigh and my father stepped forward. "I'm very sorry" The doctor began suddenly stopping as he searched for the right words. However before he could get the words out my father spoke loudly.

"Is the baby okay!" The doctor nodded.

"And Cloverly?" That was the name of my mother, the doctor paused as my father said this. His eyes widened and he ran forward trying to push past the doctor but a Peacekeeper waiting by the side of the door grabbed him.

"I'm very sorry. She lost a lot of blood and we had to surgically remove the baby. She didn't make it."

My father said that day he screamed, yelled at the top of his voice before pushing his way into the room. He said my mother's face was covered by a cloth, so was most of her body. But that I sat in the corner in a little cot type thing. That I cried out almost as loud as my fathers scream, my brother came over to me trying to look at me. He was only two, all he said was 'Where's mummy?' and another sob was let out by my father.

He walked over to me and looked down, he saw the pink cloth wrapped around my body. A girl. He picked me up and held me close trying to stop my crying as well as his own.

"Clove… Your name is Clove"

So I started life the way I ended it.

A killer.