Clove's POV

My eyes flutter open, and I feel something wet, along with an excruciating painful feeling. I looked down, and find my fingers wrapped around a knife, pressings its pointed tip into the palm of my hand. Blood was running down my palm, thick and red. Evil as it was, I loved seeing blood. It was so . . . satisfying. It made me feel confident. The whole town calls me a monster, a killer. And I am. I have killed more than justa nimals in my life. I have killed children, babies even. I have been in trouble so many times. Everyone knew me as Clove Wind, the girl with the knives. Everyone keeps their distance from me. They know what will happen if they even make me a bit irritated. I have never experienced love, passion. Only death and pain was what I was interested in. Despite my small body, I was strong, agile. I could throw knives easily, and hit every target precisely where I want to hit it. I could tackled someone and pound them to the floor as simple as that. And it was good I was made like this. I was determined to volunteer and become a tribute for the Hunger Games, and win it. I was not going to fail like my mother, and die during the games. Never. Clove Wind NEVER loses.

Aware of the pain in my hand, I pulll the knife out of my hand. I wince, and give a small groan, and throw the knife towards the wall. It hit it, sliding right through the wood, making a perfect slicing noise. I smiled, and pulled myself off my bed. I walked over to the bathroom sink, where I washed the blood off my hand, cleaning the wound, scrubbing it with soap. When the blood was gone, and my palm was clean, I changed into my training outfit: a simple brown shirt, brown leggings, and comfortable boots, which reached about three fourths up to my knees. I had a knife belta oround my waist, and kept all my amazing weapons in it.

I glanced at myself in the mirror. I never realy paid attention to how I looked, I mean, I didn't really care. But I was sure that if I wasn't so dangerous and negative, lots of boys would be crushing on me. I was small and slender, which helped me sneek up on people without making a single sound. I had long, raven dark hair, which fell down my back in long, natural waves. My eyes were big and brown, and my skin was pale, and I had some freckles around my nose. So, all in all, I was a gorgeous girl, only with a not-so-pretty inside.

I walked down to the kitchen, where my father was sitting on a chair, his cheek rested on the kitchen table, eyes closed, his breath slow and heavy. Besides his face, on the table, was a big bottle of beer. He was drunk again. Ever since my mother's death, he had been drinking nonstop. He had quit his job, and had spent all his time at home, drunk, sleeping or crying. I knew there was a spot in my heart for him, but I could never find it. What kind of father is he? I didn't exactly hate him, I just didn't care much for him.

I left the house, walking down the empty streets, on my way to the training center. I was excited for another day of fighting, especially winning against those poor helpless kids, shaking with fear. I smirked to myself, and entered the brick building. I would be late, naturally. It was already eight, an hour late. Whatever. I pushed open the door, like I did every day and and didn't even have a chance to look around when I felt a sharp object fly past me, missing me by a millimeter.

Cato's POV

I walked down the street, casually, hiding my nerves. It would be my first day at the training center. It wasn't because I was a weak seventeen year old that I couldn't start until now. It was that we didn't have enough money to sign me up. Until today, I had to practice throwing spears and swords at trees. Finally, after saving up so much money, I could finally get trained by teachers. Then, go to the games.

I stepped into the building, and pushed a door open, which lead me to the training gym. I looked around the center. There were so many weapons. Knives, swords, bows and arrows, ropes, spears . . . I walked over to the stand of swords, and picked one up. Everyone watched me, pointing. I grinned, happy that I had drawn attention, and I lunged forwards, slicing a huge bag of oats open. It poured with grains of oats, sprinkling us.

"Wooooh!" A boy cries, laughing.

I sliced more bags open, and grabbed a spear. I through it with all my force accross the room, seeking attention and praise. It went through a beaten-up dummy, its head rolling off. I did this a few more times until a tall man entered. He was good-looking, with a straight back and a headfull of loopy curls, which bounced around his head. He also had muscles, big ones, covering his entire body.

"You must be Cato." The man said. "I'm Karlos, you're trainer here."

"Nice to meet you." I held out an arm.

Karlos looked at it, and smiled. He shook my hand. "You seem like a strong kid. I saw you throwing that spear. Would you throw another few? Just so I can get a good look at you?"

"Sure." I grabbed a spear from the stand, and threw it with force towards the wall. It hit it perfectly. "I'm great with swords." I included.

"I can see that," Karlos nodded, eyeing the mess of oats.

"He might be able to beat Clove!" A high-pitched voice piped up.

"I was just thinking that?" Karlos looked at me, admiring my own muscles. I was big, muscualr, like a giant, in a healthy way. I had faintly tanned skin, and dirty blond hair, almost beige, and big blue eyes.

"Clove?" I asked. Who was this Clove? What did they mean by I might be able to beat her. Mighty Cato Fren beats everybody. No one could beat me.

"She's the scarriest, deadliest girl in the whole academy!" Someone else said.

"Yeah! Even Karlos fears her!" Another person said.

"I do not." Karlos said. "She just is wild. Very unpredictable. She needs to be calmed down a lot. She kills people."

"She almost killed my sister!" A loud voice said.

"It's true!" A squeeky, girly voice said. "Karlos and the other trainers had to pull them apart and Clove got suspended for two weeks."

"Hush, everyone!" Karlos shouted. He turned to Cato. "Throw another spear. Just one more. See that picture right by the door? Can you knock it down?"

"Sure."

I took another spear and through it. Just then, the door burst open, and a girl appeared, an evil look on her face. The spear was inches away from her, and it flew right by her face, just a millimeter away from hitting her. Her devilish look washed off her, and she her eyes widened, not with fear, but with anger.

"Oh no." Someone whispered.

The girl took a step forward, and I could see her belt was full of knives. Her mouth was set in a straight line, and the whole center turned quiet. The girl's eyes flicked to every face, and when she reached mine, my throat turned dry. She was beautiful, in a scary way. She looked from me, to the spear and picture, which I had missed by only a bit.

The girl moved with so much speed, she was like a blur. She was right in front of me in seconds, a knife in her hand. She was standing at the tips of her toes, and she looked up at me, her eyes full of rage.

"Did you just throw a spear at me?" She hissed, sending chills down my spine.

"Not at you. At the picture." I said calmly.

The girl raised her knife. "But you missed. You missed. That spear was barely touching me!" She said louder.

"Clove," Karlos said, coming towards her. "Clove, calm down."

"NO!" She shrieked, and she was so fast, I barely saw her, but the next thing I know, I was pinned to the ground. She was leaning on top of me. Her knife was tracing shapes along my arm. Her face was so close to mine, I could feel her breath.

"CLOVE!" Karlos said.

Clove ignored the trainer. She sunk the knife into my leg. I screamed. She laughed.

"CLOVE! CLOVE! STOP!" Karlos shouted, worried.

"Don't worry, Karlos. She'll get a fight if she wants one." I said.

I jumped to my feet and ran over to the sword stand, and grabbed one hstily. Clove lunged for me, and tried to disarm me with her knife. I grabbed her with my free hand and held her steady. I punched her in the stomach, and she flew back, falling onto her back. She looked up, surprised by my strength. I could see the mixed emotions in her eyes, and after a while of just staring at each other, she tackled me by surprise and I fell loudly against a wall.

The other kids in the room gasped. I turned my head weakly, and saw them huddled in a corner, watching. Karlos was standing awkwardly, wondering whether to call some helpers to break the fight or not.

Clove mouth was close to my ear, and she whispered, so quietly no one else could hear, "What is your name, boy?"

"Cato." I whispered back.

"Silly name. Oh, well, you'll be dead soon!"

She brought a knife, this one was even more pointed, to my neck. "Ready to say goodbye to you life?"

"Not at all, and I'm not." I said brightly, which stunned her.

She looked at me, a confused look in her eyes. I used this moment to pushed her back with my foot. She growled as she slid back. And two things happened at that exact moment. I thew my sword at her, and she threw a knife at me. And right before both of our weapons could hit the other one's neck, the whole crowd gasped. And that was it. As soon as the knife hit me, I fell back, and I knew Clove had too.