(A/N:) Damn you, Gale for making me sensitive with my little plots in the story...or whatever! Anyways, I decided to edit the ending of this story to make to more INTRIGUING. :P
Oh, and did you notice that the Damn you, Gale! at the beginning of this note was a reference from Katniss to Gale in the movie when she is supposed to shoot a deer, but then Gale interrupts her? If you didn't notice, then see the movie at once (The book is better, though)! Oh, and Foxface's real name is Finch. Caesar says it after she's done talking about surviving in the arena. If you listen closely, you can hear it. Anyways, enjoy!
-DIRTY SNOW-
-PROLOGUE-
In a small, old house in the city of Minnesota, there was a young girl-who was between the ages of fourteen-and-sixteen. No one knows her real age. Not even her father, nor mother. But of course, the girl's parents are certainly dead; or nowhere to be seen.
The weakling was practically running around the home, trying to escape from her deadly, older cousin's grasp. Everyday-probably everyday-did the girl's cousin attack her with sharp knives. The little one would come home from school, only to be locked out of the house.
Hard. She would knock so hard on the wooden door, that her knuckles will bleed red. It drips down her fingers, and down to her callused palm. It caused so much pain, that it made her weep until the night has come and she is let in.
Right now, the young girl's face is bleeding down from the right side of her forehead, down to her chin. Her face was cut from her wicked cousin just hours ago. And it's still pouring red.
She avoids her in the shadows, but is quickly found. She has to run to the known places of the house-or the places her cousin knows. And her cousin knows right away where she is in the home. In the basement, in her room, kitchen, anywhere, really. She knows where she is at the right time to abuse her with kitchen knives.
The young one feels her cut with her right index finger while she hides, silently wishing she hadn't touched it. It was seeping with pain; seeping with the color red. After all of these hours, it's still blood red-like an apple.
It would soon turn into a scar as long as she survives this process.
Again, hard. She bangs her head hard that her black hair flows along her shoulders, against the wooden wall. It hurts. Just like when her knuckles would bleed every time she tries to break into her own house. She quietly chuckles to herself at the thought of that. But, why would that be funny?
Unlike most people, she likes pain. Most of the time, though. Often does she try to commit her death by slitting her wrists. But then, she slits her wrist by making it the size of a line the size of her pinky. That doesn't hurt, though. It hurts only when she thinks about dying. After she cuts her wrists, she decides to bandage it so it wouldn't hurt more and more every time she glances at it.
She's very fond of knives. That's why she cuts. She usually has a knife with her, but no. Her cousin stole it from her this time. And she cut her face with it, causing a deep opening that would soon be a big scar that everyone would see.
But she doesn't want anyone to see this work of abuse.
There she sits, sniffling in the dark. She can feel her slit face opening wide and long, probably signaling it's time for nature to take its course. Though, she doesn't want that to happen. Yet.
Quietly, she stares down at her bandaged wrists. Two of them. The small one rips the bandages off slowly, crying as she tears it off. She can see the dried-up blood on the bandages and wrists. It only makes tears well up in her eyes as she feels the pain. It hurts...
She touches her left arm, gasping and sighing when the pain goes away at once. It pains for about a second, and after a few it goes away at once.
The small one stares down at her two white bandages. It's covered up with blood-lots of red blood. The redness is kind of wet, even though she had cut it just a few days ago.
Her friends would sometimes see her wrists are rather deeply slit under her long coat, and they would scold her for it. All the little one does is just laughs at their expression, and goes on with what with what she was doing.
She doesn't mind.
But what she does mind, is that her cousin could normally just look at it, and chase her around for cutting herself. Today was one of those moments. A more violent moment.
It happens almost everyday...
She lays the bandages flat on her face, trying to absorb the pain away. It does help her for bit, before it sticks on her face with the adhesive. The adhesive only makes her feel much better and not a bit better. She sighs a heavy sigh as the pain slowly goes away minute by minute.
Then, she realizes; she shouldn't have done that. She knows that her murderer could've heard her, and is probably coming for her right now. Quickly, she snuggles herself into a cocoon, arms wrapped around her legs; and face hiding into knees. But then this wouldn't be the best way to hide from your murderer.
The tiny one drags her feet into the corner closest to her body. It doesn't hide her pretty well, though. The light shows off her black hair, and arms that are tightly grasping her thin legs. She just hopes that she really won't be spotted, though.
But then, she is spotted.
One. All of a sudden, she can feel a knife glide across the back of her neck. That's her knife caressing her neck.
Two. She lifts up her head, seeing a sulking figure in front of her grasping her knife. That's her cousin grasping her knife.
Three. She can see that her cousin is mouthing two words. That's "I'm sorry."
Four. The small one feels a prick at her right shoulder blade. That's her knife, being pricked in her arm by a murderer.
Five. She feels it fall into her arms, after the prick. She feels her knife fall into her arms. And that's when her cousin has surrendered at killing the poor, sad girl.
She grabs the knife, breathing heavily as it goes. She's not dead; but alive. Silently, she looks down at it, biting her lip as she feel the blade with her thumb. It's slightly bloody from the cut on her face, but that doesn't matter.
What's does matter, is that she has her beloved knife again.
(A/N:) "Oh, my!" Did you say that? Yes, you did. :P If you didn't say it; say it! Okay, thank you very much. I'll update either tomorrow or Friday. Friday, probably. I have violin tomorrow, so my mind will be more focused on...ya know, violin. Oh, and Cato will be introduced in the first chapter. Oh, and I don't own THG. Wish I did, though!
Oh, and Clove's POV after the seconds thing was on purpose. And you'll see who her cousin is. She's in the Faye Mental Asylum, too. Since her master sent her there when she didn't fetch the heart of Snow (Clove). So, then her cousin was the Huntswoman. Not the Huntsman. That'd be freaky. O_O
-It's So Clovely
