Authors note: Hai everyone! You may be wondering what this story is doing back up on the Fan fiction list, well, I re-read this a little while ago and I was a bit disappointed because I felt there wasn't enough detail and Cleo was on the verge of becoming far to dependent on other people. So, I decided to edit this story and improve all the details. For those of you who have read this story before, I had included more detail and more explanations, also, Cleo is a lot more independent and her relationship with different characters is a bit different. I have kept a lot of the story the same, just added detail, improved punctuation and corrected the spelling (and all those annoying typos.) I hope you enjoy the story more than before, and if you're reading this for the first time, I really hope you enjoy it! Thank-you for clicking this story and I'd very much appreciate it if you'd give me a little review, after all, a happy author is a good author.
Its cold when I wake up, but then again, when isn't it? The fire from last night has long died out and my brothers haven't bothered to make a new one. We never bother to do anything today- Reaping day. Its ok for them, they only need to have the odds in their favor this year and they won't ever be in the games again. I'm not so lucky. I slowly ease myself out of bed and put on a dress that once belonged to my mother. It's really quite beautiful, a rosy pink dress with frills and lace. I only ever wear it once a year at the reaping; I don't know why we bother dressing nicely for an event where people get picked for their own funeral. I'm late waking up because the sun is already midway across the sky casting its light in through the dirty window pane. I drag my fingers through my long, dark brown hair and pull it up into a high pony tail using a red ribbon which used to be a shirt. I open the door of our cabin and step out into the woods. A small child with long blond hair runs past me, her mother jogs to catch up, they're both smiling and laughing which is strange considering what event is about to occur in under an hour. I always think of my parents on this day, what would they be thinking if they were both alive? I always seem to notice the parents of the children who are picked in the reaping other than the actual tributes themselves, they always anticipate the worst-everyone does- but when it actually happens they always seem to break down. My own mother died giving birth to me, my father was crushed in a logging accident when I was about 5. I don't really remember my father very well, only fuzzy distance memories which I'm unsure, are real or just a dream. A tall, blond boy walks up to me, he smiles but his blue eyes portray his real emotions- fear, worry and a small spark of hope.
"All ready Cleo?" He asks me,
"As ready as I'll ever be, where's Kovu?" I ask,
"Already at the square, which we should hurry along to, we wouldn't want to be late now would we?" Diego takes my hand and we walk together towards the town square. Me and Kovu met Diego when we lived at the orphanage. I remember the day perfectly; I was only about 7 when a horrible boy pulled my pony tail and took away my piece of bread. I don't really know where Kovu was at the time, most likely he was being punished for stealing food for me, Diego hit the boy and gave me back my bread, he and Kovu quickly become best friends and all three of us looked after each other while we lived in the orphanage. Diego isn't my actual brother, not like Kovu, but he's family and I love him to bits.
"Hopefully who ever chosen will win and District 7 will finally get a bit of food." I nod, but it's not likely. A tribute from District 7 won't ever win because the Capitol secretly trains District 1 and 2 citizens-the rich stay rich and the poor stay poor. Don't you just love how completely fair the Capitol is?
"Well this is it, good luck." I say, giving Diego a hug. I break away from him, sign in and go and stand next to the other 15 year old girls. A hand touches my shoulder; I turn around and look at the worried face of Kovu.
"Good luck 'lil Sis." He reaches down and gives me a massive hug.
"Hey don't worry about me, I can look after myself." Kovu smiles releasing me from his hug,
"I know Cle, you tell me it enough. Don't go hunting all the food; don't go lifting up the heavy stuff, just 'cause I 'ma girl don't mean I can't do all the stuff you can!" I roll my eyes,
"If you're trying to imitate me, you're not doing a very good job."
"I disagree; it's what you sound like." I roll my eyes again, but a smile is plastered across my face, it's almost impossible to stay annoyed at Kovu. A red headed girl blushes as she watches Kovu stroll off to go and stand beside Diego. Kovu has that effect on most girls. He's handsome I suppose, dark brown hair and big brown eyes, tanned from long days in the sun, but I don't think he's ever had a girlfriend. Maybe that'll change soon? I turn my attention to the stage, quickly put together for the reaping. A fat man wobbles towards a mic, his sliver beard has been curled like whiskers and the remaining bits of hair on his head plaited. He looks stupid, but then again, most Capitol people do. Zion Lumberton, the biggest clown in what seems like the whole world, is unfortunately the District 7 escort. I hate him, he's annoying, rude and inappropriate-I mean, who actually try's to make a joke out of The Hunger Games? Zion Lumberton, that's who. He taps the mic, sending echoes around the square, I groan loudly, a girl next to me smiles and nods her head in silent agreement. Everybody hates this man.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome." Zion grins, looking around with his beady black eyes. "Before we find out the tributes for this year's hunger games, let us remind ourselves about why we have this event." The mayor of District 7 steps forward and repeats the long treaty of treason. We rebelled against the capitol. We lost. They take away two children from twelve Districts to show us there's nothing we can do when they slaughter us all. What else is there to know? The mayor sits down, awaiting the names of the children who will no longer be in her district.
"Without further delay, let us announce the name of our girl tribute. Zion walks to a huge glass bowl with thousands of names in it. I can't help the fluttering feeling in my stomach, I know my name isn't in there very many times because Kovu and Diego have banned me from entering my name any more times for food, as Diego always says, 'I'd rather have a rumbling tum than an empty home'. Yeah, Diego's full of odd little phrases like that, it might make more of an impact if it rhymed. He rummages through the pieces of paper, picks one up and waves it in the air. He shakes his head and puts it back; grinning like it's the funniest thing ever. The crowd sighs, he does this every year and it will never be funny no matter how hard he try's. This man is picking which person will get killed on live television, not who might win a fancy new house. Finally he picks a name and walks back to the mic,
"May the odds be ever in your favor," His eyes scan the girls of District 7, slowly he unfolds the paper. Somehow I knew which un-lucky person's name would be read out, even before he spoke the words.
"Cleopatra Ivy!" I nod slowly, taking a few steps forward, surprising myself about how utterly calm I felt. Suddenly a voice screamed from the crowds, Kovu.
"No. No. NO! Please, not my sister! Volunteer someone. Please-" A peacekeeper quickly walks towards Kovu, my brother has a bad past record of beating up people in anger. Kovu wriggles away from the peacekeepers hold, his brown eyes filled with anger.
"Get off me, your all dirty murderers. She's going to die; my little sister is going to die!" The peacekeeper calls for reinforcement and Kovu is dragged away from the crowds, kicking and screaming trying to attack his peacekeepers. Recovering from my brother's outburst, I make my way to the stage and look across the town square. I spot Diego. He's staring into the distance, his blue eyes clouded in fear but not seeing anything. I hold my head up high, I know from watching other tributes that you must never ever cry when your name is picked. Zion picks up a name from the boys glass bowl without messing about with his ongoing joke.
"Dandy Robinson," I exhale for a fraction of a second, it's not my brothers. But then my heart starts to pound because it's Dandy. Dandy Robinson- the boy who wants my brothers and me dead. Dandy used to work in the woods with Kovu and Diego, organizing pieces of mahogany and oak that would be sent to the capitol and made into a table. The year they were all working together was a tough one; we had no food and no belongings-not that we have many now. Kovu and Diego started stealing money from the peacekeepers that watched over us and one day a peacekeeper noticed his money had been stolen from his coat that was left in the equipment shed. Well after that there was a massive search, and quick thinking Diego placed the money he had stolen into someone else's work clothes so he wouldn't get in trouble, that someone else was Dandy. He was instantly fired from his job and given 50 lashes in front of the whole District, he has been forever known as a dirty, lying thief ever since, all because of my brothers. My stomach twists into unnatural shapes as I watch Dandy saunter to the stage. He's huge. Tall as well as muscular, his blond hair flattened against his head, his hazel eyes cold. Zion smiles, examining Dandy, I think he was expecting a thin weedy boy because of his name.
"Ladies and gentlemen; your 22nd Hunger Games tributes: Cleopatra Ivy and Dandy Robinson." A peacekeeper grabs my arm and I'm shoved of stage into the justice building.
…
The room is nice and cozy, plush sofas in a material I could never name. The walls have different paintings on them of relaxing and soothing things like purple meadow flowers and snowy pines, the floors are a thick, white carpet. I slip of my battered leather shoes and dig my toes in the fur. The oak door opens and Diego steps into the room. He walks towards me and sits down by my feet, like a dog sitting by its master. We don't speak; instead Diego takes my hand and traces circles over in. Diego has always struggled with showing his emotions because his mother abandoned him at the orphanage, simply saying she couldn't cope anymore. Nobody ever saw her again. The time I have with him ticks away, after a long minute he looks up at me.
"Don't just die Cleo, don't be like those tributes that freeze to death and don't even bother trying. You're a clever kid; you can find food and water. Please Cleo, all I ask is you try and come home." My eyes fill up,
"I promise." I say my voice barely a whisper. Diego returns to his sitting position until his time is up and he has to leave me. He's quickly replaced by Kovu. I can't help a small smile, after the peaceful tranquility of Diego; Kovu is like a hurricane, a wildfire and a tsunami all at the same time. I stand up,
"What on earths happened to your face?" Kovu shrugs,
"I don't care." I brush the side of my brother's face, its bright red and it'll leave a nasty bruise.
"Did a Peacekeeper hit you?"
"Yeah, but I hardly felt it." I sigh,
"Well, that's to be expected, you did make a scene."
"There was no need for violence though." I raise an eyebrow and sit down. Kovu sits down next to me, pushing me onto his lap. I wrap my arms round his neck. I feel just like a little five year old again, when our father died and we had to sit in the dirty office of the orphanage waiting to get a room. I've always felt comforted by Kovu, my pain always slightly eased whenever he's around. Kovu curls a strand of my hair around his finger, smiling. I remember a time when I tried to teach him how to braid it, he tied it up into a knot and I spent an hour untying it. How does anyone actually manage to tie hair into a knot when they braid it?
"You have such lovely hair. It's just like Mother's, or how I remember it to be. She'd be proud of you, Cleo." That's when the tears fall, Kovu looks up at me, concern etched across his face.
"Shh, don't cry." He wipes away the tears on my cheek and pulls me into a tight hug, hushing and rocking me back and forth like you would a baby.
"I might not die you know?" I whisper,
"I know Cleo, I know…" but he doesn't know he's preparing himself for the worst. I can tell by the way his voice sounds that he's on the verge of a breakdown. I have never in my 15 years of life seen Kovu cry; he has always been so strong. The door opens again and a peacekeeper grabs Kovu's shirt. Kovu struggles against his grip and gives me one last desperate hug.
"Just try and come home, Cle, please try and come home." The peacekeeper tugs impatiently at Kovu's arm and his is lead out of the room. Not before I see the tears rolling down his tanned face. No one else comes to visit me, I'm not exactly well known so I wasn't expecting anyone else. I live in the cabin the loggers are given and hunt in the woods. I don't bother going to school, there isn't much point in education when you're starving to death. In fact, I only ever go to the main village to buy some bread or for the reaping. Another peacekeeper walks into the room; I stand up and follow him out of the justice building and into a car. Dandy sits next to me in the back, and instantly it feels like the temperature has dropped, I can practically see ice forming between us. The car door opens and a tall, black haired guy sits between us, good, I don't want to sit so close to Dandy. I remember the guy vaguely; he's a victor, our mentor. Zion turns round and smiles at us,
"All ready? I have a feeling these games are going to be special. I mean look at him, he's strong. Perhaps District 7 will have a victor this year?" Dandy smiles, showing his white teeth, a shiver runs down my spine, how could a smile look so sinister?
"Well, best be off. You are simply going to love the capitol." I stare out of the window, tuning Zion out. I know I won't love the capitol, how could anyone love the place where they're going to die?