This story begins 2 months before the reaping of the 76th Hunger Games.

Phoenix's POV

"Phoenix, get up! Time for training!" I hear Cato calling me from downstairs. It's 6:00 AM. I don't even bother to complain about training anymore. It's not like it'll get me anywhere. I roll out of bed. Then put on some tight black pants and a loose fitting purple crop top. I brush my thick brown hair back into a high ponytail, and run downstairs where Cato is waiting for me.

"There you are Phoenix. Better get going to training. Raven will kill you if your late again." Cato remarks.

"That doesn't sound so bad." I retort back.

"Hey. What's with the little attitude there, Phoenix?" Cato asks. As if he doesn't know.

"Are you seriously asking me that question? The reaping is coming up and they'll be showing clips previous games. I don't need to see my sister die again, okay?" I raise my voice.

"Trust me, I don't either." Cato pauses for a moment "I could have saved her." He says looking down towards the floor.

"Well then why didn't you?!" I'm yelling at him I'm now and I'm on the verge of crying.

"I wasn't fast enough." Cato says as a tear rolls down his cheek. "They might not even show her on the clips this year." Cato adds. How damn stupid could he be?

"Well she's from our district isn't she? Of course they'll show her!" I yell. "I'm going to training!" I run outside and slam the door behind me. I don't have time to control myself before the tears come. First one. Then a river of tears is rolling off my face. "WHY?!" I'm screaming to no one. "Why did Clove have to die? Why not me? I had nothing to live for! She did! She had Cato!" I yell out, but no one is awake to listen. I run out onto the street, and collapse for a few minutes, letting the tears take me over. After a little while, I pull myself up and run all the way to the training center.

Cato's POV

I just don't get how Clove ever communicated with her. Maybe it was because they're almost exactly the same. They have the same long, dark hair. Same light brown eyes. Same feisty attitude and they're both good with knives. Clove. I loved her so much, and now memories are all I have left of her. Phoenix is the closest I can get to her now.

I should have been more gentle when I was talking to her earlier. She's so delicate. I keep forgetting that she's only 12. Clove loved her so much. She tried to win for Phoenix, and she could have, but I didn't save her. I feel a tear forming in my eye. I don't even try to wipe it away. Nobody's around anyway. I think about Clove, and how I could have saved her. It was all my fault, and I'm going to hell for it.

If I could help it, they wouldn't show the clip of Clove dying. Not only for me, but for Phoenix, too. Although Phoenix is feisty, tough, and a bit creepy at some times, she can't help but start crying whenever someone even mentions her sister. I don't blame her. I'm like that too. Clove was my best friend since I can remember. We met at training one day when I was about eight. She was only seven. I remember how she was standing at the array of throwing knives. She had her hair pulled back into two French braids. She picked up a small silver knife and threw it at the target perfectly. Even when she was young, she could throw knives like a bitch. Instantly, I fell in love with her. She walked back to the knife display and chose a slightly smaller silver knife. I walked up behind her and stood there. I was at least four inches taller than her then. "Hi. I'm-" I had started to introduce myself to the most beautiful and talented girl I had ever met. She spun around, knife in hand and interrupted me.

"I know who you are." She said twisting the knife in her small, dainty hand. She never looked up at me, but down at her knife. This was the first thing Clove had ever said to me.

"Then who am I?" I had asked her accusingly. I was very confused on how this hot girl knew me.

"You're Cato Hadley." She said flatly. She knew me. The most beautiful girl I have ever met knew me.

"And you are...?" I ask her, interested to get to know her.

"Clove Kentwell." she said, finally looking up at me. Her brown eyes met my eyes.

"So..." I paused, not sure what to say. "You wanna train with me sometime?" I ask her. I was determined to keep in touch with her.

"I have to go right now, but I can meet you tomorrow morning at 6:00, if that's okay with you." She was looking at me with a half-hearted smirk.

"Deal." I say, and she ran off.

I snap back into reality, with the fact that she is dead. I turn around to look at the picture of Clove I have above the fireplace. Damn, I miss her so much. I wish she could be alive right now. I'm the one who should be dead. A tear streams down my cheek, and I don't stop it. Soon, I'm laying on the kitchen floor crying and calling out for Clove to come back to me. But of course, she never does. She's long gone. I will never be able to accept that fact, and I will never be able to forgive myself because her death was all my fault.