Partners

I bury her deep inside myself, hoping she'll never find the strength to resurface. She is weak, she is afraid, she is vulnerable, and I hate her. I hate how she looks away when you stare, I hate how she runs away like a coward when things get hard, but most of all, I hate how she is open to anyone to hurt.

I'm not like that anymore. I've changed, now I just have to prove it. Prove it to trainers, to the "future career" tributes, but most of all I have to prove it to myself.

I take a deep breath before stepping into the large circle drawn on the hard, gray, cement floor. My opponent stands at 5 feet and 7 inches, while I stand at 5 feet exactly. The girl's name is Avery Ladderson. She is really good with a knife, but so am I, I just have to show that to everyone.

Avery throws a bladeless knife at me (the throwing knifes are left bladeless for one on one fighting) that I easily dodge. She charges at me with silver handle which must have once belonged to a beautiful blade. My fingers wrap around her wrist just a second before I would have been 'dead'. Her mouth opens slightly and she releases a gasp of disbelief. I caught her hand. Me, the raven-haired freak, stopped the best girl fighter in District 2. Before Avery has time to recover, I knee her in the stomach and she hunches over. I elbow her back and she tumbles over. I smirk and kick her hard in the ribs three times before dropping to my knees in front of her. I get on top of her and use my legs to pin her struggling body down. She grunts and tries to flip me over, but I'm too quick for her, and I punch her nose, breaking it. My knuckles sting and I know there will be a bruise there soon, but I don't care. I pull one of the three handles from my jacket, the rest of the space full of my real knifes with their sharp, brutal blades. I trace it along her jawline before dragging the handle roughly across her throat, claiming my victory.

I stand up and glare down at the injured girl who was holding her crooked nose. I smirk and walk out of the ring. I glance up at the chalkboard of names in the back of the room. The chalkboard is spilt down the middle, boys on the right, girls on the left. The chalkboard has the top five fighters of each gender, so we know who are our future tributes. The list never changes much, until someone goes into the Hunger Games, or passes 18. Age is also factored into to the person "chosen" or aka, rigged to win.

I have been practicing fighting and knife throwing since age 6. Public fighting didn't began until 8. I am 14 years old, and my name sits in the first slot in the left side. I am first. I am the best. Avery, a 15 year old, has been pushed down to the second slot for her loss to me, and I was put over her.

I go over to the knife throwing station so I can throw real knifes. I grab 5 of the cruelest looking blades and add them into the array of knifes in the inside of my jacket. I throw knife after knife at the targets, not missing once. I stand with my hand on one hip, with a sideway smile. I feel hot breath on the back of neck and then a low chuckle in my ear. I spin around to come face to face with the best boy fighter, a brutal blonde with icy blue eyes.

He stands over a foot taller then me, with a sexy, arrogant smile. Before now, this boy had never talked to me. Why would he? He is a strong, good looking 15 year old and I was nothing but a misfit, until now.

"Hey there cutie," He says, giving me a flirty wink.

This is a test. Will I look away? Will I blush? Will I step back? Will I give in?

No, I won't.

I stare back into his piercing blue eyes. I laugh and allow a small smirk on my face.

"What do you want, Highman?"

He chuckles and traces a finger along my collar bone. I don't flinch. "Woah, calm down. I just came to tell you that you're pretty good."`

I lean against the wall and sigh. "Silly, silly, boy. Only pretty good? What are you, crazy?"

"Nope," he says pulling me against him by the waist and biting is lip, "I'm Cato."

"Clove. Get to the point."

Cato releases me and stands up straight. "Look, you're the best female fighter in District Two, I'm the best male fighter, and I've been trying to get rid of Avery as a partner for 3 years."

"Oh, so you want me as a training partner?" I ask, smirking. "Well, I don't know..."

Cato narrows his eyes. "Oh Clovely, you know you want me."

I roll my eyes.

"Oh come on Troublefield!"

"Fine. Partners."

That was three years ago today, and boy, and things changed.

Hey my lovely readers! This is a new story of mine. This is the introduction, and yes, it's a flashback. Review please and tell me what you think!