When I wake up, the alarm clock in the room that I share with my three little sisters is ringing dimly. I reach over and turn it off, readying myself for my last day of school before the reapings. I take a deep breath and go to wake up my sisters from their cots around the room.
To my left is Cassie, the oldest of my little sisters. I shake her lightly and say, "Get up. One more day of school to go."
Her eyes flutter open and she smiles at me. "Good morning." She responds cheerfully.
I move on to the next cot because it is difficult to get three girls ready for school on time with little to no aid.
Cayla is the next oldest sister. Cassie is eleven, Cayla is eight, and my youngest sister Cady is six. I shake Cayla awake next and she just rolls over, so I stroke her cheek and whisper, "I know. You like to sleep, but wait one more day and you can sleep in until eight."
She perks up and rubs her eyes, then mechanically starts her morning routine even though she is not really awake yet.
I know Cady is awake. She always wakes up to the alarm clock, but she waits for me to come get her. I sit on the edge of her bed and say, "Good morning little star."
"Good morning Clove" She replies, green eyes shining up at me.
My sisters and I look like sisters. We all have dark brown, almost black hair that falls in loose ringlet waves, and bright green eyes. Our skin is as pale as a ghost no matter how much sun we get, and we are all, like everyone in Panem, skinny.
"Come on Cady, get up. Let's go to school" I say as I pull her out of bed.
We get dressed in our school uniforms, grab a bite of breakfast and I leave a note on the table for my dad.
My dad works all day, every day, and he has no time for anyone. He pretends he loves us, me and my sisters, but I wouldn't be surprised if he just up and left us one day. I don't think anyone but Cady would mind either.
My mom got a job offer as a secretary in the capitol six years ago. She had Cady, and then left us. My dad helped me for a couple of years, then the checks from mom stopped coming and he took up a bigger job. I was left to take care of all four of us, because two months after the checks stopped coming, we received a letter from the capitol saying that "Cora Manteskew had been tried and executed for treason against the capitol."
So, my family has been reduced to four little girls and a weak father, scraping by.
When we get to school, by walking from out house, Cady is taken by her first year teacher, I see Cayla off to her classes, and Cassie heads to her year's room.
I am in the first year of upper class. At district two's schools, the core subjects such as history and sciences are covered, but also survival to the needs of the hunger games.
From the minute you are put into the educational system it is clear, the only way to prove yourself anything is to become the best at a weapon, and work for the hunger games. Most people take the hunger games training lightly, but a handful of us are training, hardcore to prove that we are something, and we matter. Winning the games is the only way for me to prove to everyone that I am not just some little girl who is skilled with knives. In the games, I can show that I am much more than that and I can win the hunger games.
When I get to my room, the bell rings, and I take my seat. I sit at the end of my row, next to my best friend, Wallace.
My teacher rambles about history while everyone in my class sleeps, and then starts on to training.
We all go outdoors to the training facility which consists of a huge jungle gym, a patch of tree, and some weaponry.
As you get older, you need less and less instruction, and more practice, so my grade is pretty much let loose to work, if we promise not to kill anyone.
Wallace and I grab a sleeve full of knives from the weapon area, and walk over to our favorite tree, a tall pine.
We take turns betting on whom hit various objects, and then we throw. We always end up owing nothing, because we both never miss, so we end up owing the same amounts to each other.
"So, what are you going to do tomorrow?" I ask.
"I'm not going to volunteer yet, if that's what you mean. Ill wait a year, maybe too. What about you?" Wallace answers.
"Not sure yet. I mean what am I waiting for? I have to go, I know it, so why not now?" I ask Wallace, but also myself. I don't know if I want to volunteer of not yet.
"Well, I'm betting on you if you do go." Wallace assures me. Then he picks out the knives and we throw another round.
When School is out, I collect my sisters, and we do our strategy homework. We learn how many ways a person can die, not to trust anything in the arena, and to know for sure that you can survive an encounter with something through various worksheets handed out at the end of each day. I probably know every plant known to mankind by now, and I can identify every species of edible meat. Most of the kids from our district don't need this knowledge because we end up feeding off of the cornucopia rations anyway, but the teachers always say that if food is given, it can also be taken away, so we learn to feed ourselves.
I finish mine quickly, and then check the other's sheets. Cayla's is all wrong so I give it back, then I take the knives I stole from school and head out behind our house to throw.
I have set up a course with the trees, where I practice throwing the knives from all angles and at anything at all. When I finish, Cassie has made dinner for us, so I go inside. After dinner I go practice again. When it is too dark to even see where the trees are, I go back inside and sleep.
I have decided to volunteer this year. I kiss each of my sisters' goodnight because I won't get to for a long time. I am determined to make sure I come back to see them again though. I can prove myself so much more than what I look like. I can be big and strong, I am not just a little girl. I am force, and if you reckon with me, you'll be killed.
Ok, as you can probably tell, I am rewriting the Hunger Games in the point of view of the district two tribute Clove. Clove is my favorite character, so I really hope you like this story. Tell me what you think by reviewing!
-Beckster