Chapter 2
Chapter Two
My mattress sunk with my mother sitting on it. It was late morning, the sun had risen, and the rays burst through my useless curtains. My mother stroked my hair from my face.
"Now," she whispered to me, "You ain't gonna go volunteerin'. I want nothin' happenin' to you like what happened to Claudia, and it'd be safer if you ain't gonna volunteer. 'Cause I knows that if you get picked, someone gonna replace you. So don't you worry, honey." I rolled my eyes and sighed.
I didn't know why my mother was so hell bent on making me not volunteer. I was eighteen, and definitely one of the strongest girls at the centre. I would win for sure. I mean, the seventy-fourth Hunger Games would be no difference to any other Hunger Games. The tributes from District One would be good fighters but ultimately stupid, with stupid names to match. District Three were clever, sure, but they hardly win. I mean, you can't kill someone with wire. District Four is often our biggest match but usually they either die at the Cornucopia or they are too weak to kill. I don't think much of Districts Five, Six, Seven, Eight and Nine. You can't say much about the outlying Districts. They can't have more than six victors between them.
Later in the afternoon, I stood in the eighteen year old girls section at the reaping. I had braided my hair quickly into a messy plait and wore the same sunshine yellow dress I had worn for the last two reapings. I hadn't seen Cato all day, and frankly I didn't care.
Our fluffy escort, Cadima Diva came on stage. Her hot pink hair looked like it had a whipped consistency and was piled high onto of her head. Her squeaky high pitched Capitol accent rang out.
"Welcome, welcome!" she announced; "Now my dearies, we have a very special film to show you, and guess what? It's from President Snow himself!" A film started behind her. I knew it immediately. It was played every single year since my first reaping. It went on and on about the horrors of war blah, blah. I was almost asleep when it was finished.
"Right," Cadima squeaked, "Now for the girls, ladies first, I say!" She reached her hand in the girls bowl and behind her there was a close up of her hand in the bowl. Her fingernails had light pink mice on them. How ironic.
"Scarlett…"
I didn't let her finish.
"I volunteer," I cried.
"Come up, Come up!" she squeaked in excitement. I was led roughly to the stage. I climbed up the stone steps and Cadima handed me the microphone.
My eyes twinkled, a smile played upon my lips.
"Clove Franklin," I said.
A wave of cheers filled the crowd, and even a few wolf whistles.
"Right, now moving on to the gentlemen,"
Her mouse endowed fingers wiggled in the boy's reaping bowl. I wasn't particularly worried. Cato's name was only in the bowl six times. A six in a million chance, I told myself.
Cadmia tugged at a slip in the corner of the bowl.
"Cato Jakes"
Oh shit. Someone volunteer, please? The silence flooded the stage. No one calling out there name in protest or saying the usual 'I volunteer'. Reality hit me in the face like a wet dishcloth- no one would volunteer; Cato in the Hunger Games was an opportunity too good to miss. District Two would win for the third year running.
Cato came on stage, his blond hair mussed up with his confident smile playing on his lips. My blood turned to ice. My best friend was going to kill me.
"And here we have it District Two, your victors for the Seventy- Fourth Hunger Games. Clove Franklin and Cato Jakes. May the odds be ever in your favour,"
The way this was playing out, the odds weren't in my favour.
As we walked towards the justice building, Cato turned towards me, an evil glint in his eyes.
"Good luck trying to win, Clove, yet we both know it ain't worth it." He sneered, an evil, electric glint in his eyes.
"Still pissed off, Cato? I seriously don't give a shit!" I turned down a corridor in the Justice Building, pushed forward by Peacekeepers.
I got put in a velvet clad room. It was compact, but it had soft velvet lining on all the upholstery. The door opened, revealing my mother and sister. My mother stormed across the small room, and grabbed my ear in a fierce grip.
"Now what do you think your doin' girl! You're so stupid, and you'll end up like Claudia, dead as a doornail."
I shrugged my mother off, and turned towards Libby. I wanted to make up for yesterday. I bent down next to her.
"It's gonna be ok, Libby." I smoothed down her tangled black hair.
"Why are you saying that, Clo-Clo? Everything is always gonna be alright." My poor little sister, to young to understand, that the Games can be deadly if you don't play it right.
"Dolly will look after you, okay?" I say, trying to console her.
"Mummy says that you are going away. I think Dolly would like you to take her scarf." She takes out a terribly knitted red and white scarf that I made for her doll.
I take it and stuff it in my pocket. The peacekeeper knocks on the door, and leads my mother and sister away. No one will come for me now, my only friend being Cato. I have trouble making friends, as soon as they hear of my reputation as being the strongest girl at the training centre they either fear me or act like fans.
I sit down on the velvet couch and think about what my sister said her complete blindness to the Games. I thought the Games would be easy, but now Cato's playing, it's going to be tough to win. If I do die, I'd rather my mother bothered to tell my sister rather than leaving her to find out at school.