Intro:

I've decided to write about one of the most interesting tributes in my opinion, Clove. She was so important to the story of the Hunger Games, and I was interested in creating my own back story to her, and what she was doing and thinking from the moment she was reaped to the moment she dies in the 74th Hunger Games. This is not a Clato Fanfiction. Although there is romantic tension between Cato and Clove throughout this story, it does not focus on their relationship the entire time.

I hope you all enjoy this story that is currently in progress. I am also working on an SYOT story about the 99th Annual Hunger Games that I'm about 3/4 finished with. Anyways, I'll let you begin this story :)

Today's the last day of training; since tomorrow's the day everyone in District 2 is anticipating. The reaping is one of the most celebrated ceremonies that happens once a year. Every boy and girl in our District gathers in the main square that sits directly in the center of District 2. Then, two names will be called out. The child, who is between the ages of twelve and eighteen, is scared for only the briefest of moments before someone bellows out the famous words of our District. I volunteer.

I'm only sixteen, so my time to volunteer isn't just yet. Although, even if I volunteered tomorrow at the reaping, I'm sure I'd have no trouble becoming the victor. The Taylor family is famous for their share of tributes. My Grandmother, May Taylor, was the victor of the 10th Annual Hunger Games. She was the first female tribute from District 2 to come home as the victor. She gave birth to my mother, Cat Taylor, about twenty years after she become victor. My mother was trained to fight in the Games and volunteered at the age of eighteen, which is when volunteering usually happened.

My mother was beautiful, which is why she had many boyfriends. Those boyfriends blessed her with my life. At eighteen, she had me as a child only a year old at the time, and she volunteered for the 57th Hunger Games, with all hopes of coming back and raising me to who I am today. But she never returned.

She took a knife straight through the heart, placing fifth in the Games. The alliance that traditionally forms from Districts 1, 2, and 4, had managed to kill every other tribute, while only losing the girl from 1 along the way. But once the alliance broke to determine the victor that year, my mother came too close to the girl from 4 who threw a knife deep into her heart.

I don't remember much about my mother. I only know what she looks like because I've seen so many reruns of the 57th Games. I really do look a lot like her. Short, dark brown hair that falls straight down my back, freckles scattered across my face. The only thing different about us is I plan on winning when I enter the arena.

This year will be the 74th time twenty four tributes will fight to the death. This year, my training friend Cato plans on volunteering to go into the Games. After watching him train since I was eight years old, I know he's definitely going to win. There's no doubt about it. Today, I'm going to talk to him about his strategy and how he plans on winning. If he comes out of there, which he will, I want him as a mentor in two years when I volunteer.

I leave my small house and say goodbye to my grandmother, who I've lived with since my mother died; since I was just a year old. She kisses my cheek and gives me words of encouragement to get through the day, because over the years, training gets a little boring.

I walk down the street and hop on the train that transports people all over the district. I've heard this train system was a gift to District 2 for their constant victory over the years in the Games. The only other districts that have trains are Districts 1 and 4. Not a surprise, really. We're the best ones.

These trains don't travel as fast as the Capitol trains, though. It takes about an hour just to get to the station where the training center is. When I get there, I go through the main doors and take the elevator down to the locker rooms. When the elevator door opens, Avette Jensen is being carried away on a stretcher. I stare in shock as she looks unconscious. I walk over to the locker room entrance as a few medics take her up to the main floor, probably to the nearest hospital. As soon as I get into the locker room, the other girls who train here are huddled in a circle, talking. I must be late.

"Clove!" shouts Brit, a skinny, blond girl who trains with me. She comes over to hug me tightly, a little bit of fear within her. I ask her what happened with Avette and she starts explaining immediately, the other girls nodding their heads as she goes.

"Avette was training early this morning without the coaches, and she was on the climbing wall when she slipped. She was almost at the top, and she fell, like, twenty feet or something! One of the coaches found her lying there like an hour later and her leg was completely twisted. She was supposed to volunteer tomorrow!"

Then I realize what's so shocking.

"Avette is the only eighteen year old. And the rest of us aren't old enough to volunteer, based on what the coaches tell us. So the girl tribute could be anyone this year! I swear, if District 2 is represented by some frilly little girl, I'm going to ask Cato to kill her straight away. What an embarrassment to the rest of us!" I announce.

Farrell, one of the female coaches, comes through the door and tells us all to get out into the gym with her usual harsh tone. I realize I haven't changed yet and dash over to my locker and change as quickly as I can. I tie up my hair and throw my other clothes in my locker before jogging out to the main gym. When I get there, everyone's standing in a circle around Farrell and Harris, a big, burly coach who trains the boys.

I see Cato and give him a friendly smile as he stands next to Vick, the other eighteen year old who plans on challenging Cato for the spot as tribute.

"Alright, thanks for finally joining us, Clove," says Harris, "Now, before we start the annual showdown of the volunteers, we have some sad news."

Everyone starts looking around. The girls know what happened, and the boys are starting to catch on when they notice Avette is missing.

"Where's Avette?" asks Cato sternly. Harris silences him with a finger as he continues, "Avette Jensen will not be volunteering this year. She got in an awful accident this morning because she was breaking our rules. This is just proof that listening to us will be the only way you achieve success. Now that she will not be volunteering, we have some business to discuss."

Now Farrell cuts in, "Would the seventeen year old girls please step forward."

As she says this, Kira and Ariel step forward, both of them looking very nervous about what they might be told to do.

"Are either of you confident enough to volunteer this year?" asks Farrell. Both of them immediately shake their heads.

"I need another year. There's no way," says Ariel in protest.

"Well then I guess that means the female whose name gets picked this year will be our representative for the Games. Now, if you two decide to think on it, go ahead and volunteer. But I don't want anyone younger volunteering."

Farrell looks at me now, and I smirk, knowing she thinks I'm ready, but doesn't want me volunteering anyway. I know I'm good, but I would never volunteer the same year as Cato. I want the both of us to survive.

"Now then, let's get things settled and find our volunteer for the boys. Cato, Vick, if you would join me in the center ring. Every year, the trainees at the age of eighteen of the same gender have a battle to see who will volunteer as the tribute. They use foam weapons of course, and the first one on the ground loses. Even if they still wanted to volunteer, it wouldn't be smart. By the time they're on the ground, they're pretty weakened from the showdown.

Harris brings Cato and Vick together, both looking determined. The two of them are great friends, so to see them looking angry at each other is an odd sight. But both value this moment much more than they value each others friendship; because just like the Games can only have one victor, our gym can only have one volunteer. I'm not looking forward to fighting with Brit. We're both the same size, but Brit's very handy with a spear. Even if I beat her, I'd feel so bad about ruining her dream.

Before I know it, Harris has left the small ring around Cato and Vick and a bell goes off. Cato wields a foam sword, and Vick has a broad foam axe. Vick charges at Cato and the two just have at each other. Bruises are given to both, and Cato has finally had enough when he kicks Vick in the chest, forcing him down onto the ground.

"That was fast," admits Harris. Vick looks devastated, but I can't help but smile and be happy for Cato. He's finally secured his spot as a tribute this year, which means District 2 will have it's victor for the 74th Annual Hunger Games, no matter who he's up against.

"Alright everyone," says Farrell as Cato helps Vick back onto his feet, "We'll commence three more hours of training, and then it's back home for the reaping tomorrow. As you know, our reaping is one of the first, so it's at seven in the morning. Don't be late."

Everyone starts to wander off to different training stations. I look back at Cato and see a huge smile across his face. What a show off. I giggle as Brit and I go around and do some training.

"Alright Brit," I say after a while, "I haven't done knives in a few days. I miss them." Brit just laughs and shoos me away while she goes over to the spears. When I get to the knife station that's surrounded by targets and dummies, I line up and start hitting each one. My first lodges into the head of a dummy about twenty feet off, the other into the bull's eye of a target ten feet farther. I've thrown five knives when someone starts clapping behind me.

"Still going strong, I see," says Cato. He smiles and I blush slightly. Cato's one of the biggest flirts I've ever met. I just try to ignore it sometimes. After all, I've never been big on romance.

"Nice job today," I say honestly. He thanks me and then there's a small period of silence before he asks what made me choose knife throwing as my specialty. I think about it, and in all honesty, it's because seeing my mom die truly made me realize how dominant throwing knives is to any other specialty. It's right up there with archery, which I never got a hang of. If I did, I'd probably have taken that up instead.

"No real reason," I lie, "Just for the longer range, I guess." Cato nods in understanding and grabs a knife from the rack next to me. He grips it tightly and lets it fly at a target only ten feet away, missing almost completely. I laugh hysterically with a little snort at the end that makes him laugh.

"Good thing you never took this up. You're better with a sword." We talk for a little while longer before it's time to go. It's probably almost lunch time, anyway. We all get changed, and I talk to Brit about our showdown that'll happen exactly two years from now. I'm already getting butterflies from the thought. At lunch, the two of us sit with Cato and Vick, who really doesn't seem interested in talking at all. I wouldn't be either.

"Let's hope neither of you get picked tomorrow," Cato says.

"I'm not too worried," says Brit, "Both our names are only in three times each. Tesserae aren't necessary in District 2."

After lunch, we go back to the locker rooms to get our things and return home. I say goodbye to Cato and Brit and wish Cato the best of luck, since I probably won't be speaking with him between now and the time he volunteers. But it's not sad. I have so much confidence that he'll be coming back.

On the train, I fall asleep. I'm woken up by a conductor at my station. He must recognize me to know what station I get off at. No surprise, since I ride this train almost every day after school. But every school in District 2 has off the day before and the day of the reaping.

When I walk into my house, my grandmother is watching an interview with the famous Caesar Flickerman and this year's Head Gamemaker. I look at him and notice he interestingly shaven beard.

"Listen Clove, this man knows what he's doing. You'd better hope he sticks around two more years for your Games. I can see it already. He's shaking hands with Clove Taylor: Victor of the 76th Annual Hunger Games."

I laugh. My grandmother's a little crazy. I think she's always been that way. She turns off the television and tells me to go upstairs to try on some dresses for the reaping. People in District 2 go all out for the reaping attire, and even though I won't be volunteering this year, it's common courtesy to look my best anyway.

I get upstairs and find a thin white spring dress that ties into a bow around the waist lying on my bed. It looks beautiful. I almost want to save it for when I actually have to stand in front of the people of my District.

"I love it," I tell grandma as she comes in and hugs me. We spend the rest of the day watching interviews and specials on the 74th Annual Hunger Games. The Capitol citizens are all throwing massive parties and parades. They really do get excited for this thing; even more excited than we do here in District 2.

Then I start thinking about who the female tribute might be this year.

Chapter 2: The Reaping (In Progress)