Born to Die.
Chapter Two: I volunteer as Tribute.
Disclaimer, Point's of View, Characters (including O/C's) and Pairings list:
See Chapter One.
Enjoy :3
My heart stopped.
I knew my mother hated me, but...But this.
"F-fine. I'll go." I choked out, trying to fight back tears. A peacekeeper shot my mother a warning glance – and she backed off to the outer stands.
The same video that is played each year, discussing how wrong the dark days were – how forgiving the Capitol are – and the purpose for the Hunger Games now – didn't register. The words going through my ears like sand in my hands.
Her words replayed in my mind. '..."You are of the standards of District Twelve. You are no daughter of mine."'
Was I that much of a disgrace? Were feelings that much of a human disadvantage?
Clearly, the answer was yes.
I forced myself to watch as Effie Trinket – a Capitol woman who reaps each district and escorts for Twelve – wobbled onto the stage in too-big bright pink heels; a wig that gave the impression she had Candy Floss on her head, and wearing make-up that aged her terribly.
'..."You are of the standards of District Twelve. You are no daughter of mine."'
The video wound down and she began her speech.
"Welcome, welcome – to this; the Seventy-Fourth annual Hunger Games." She looked around the crowd to see plenty of people cheering themselves silently on. No one wanted to be reaped, as they knew they'd be volunteered for. Basically – the Hunger Games began with the race to see who could volunteer the quickest.
'..."You are of the standards of District Twelve. You are no daughter of mine."'
"Good luck, and – may the odds be ever in your favour!"
It always felt like those words had a different meaning around here, in Two. "May the odds be ever in your favour," those words applied to the tributes that entered the games – but here, it sounds as if she's wishing us luck – seeing who will volunteer first.
'..."You are of the standards of District Twelve. You are no daughter of mine."'
"As usual, ladies first..." Effie's sharp talons rooted around a transparent orb-shaped bowl; selecting a small, white envelope.
"…And the female tribute is..."
My mother's words spun around in my head – filling me with rage. How could a mother say that to her eldest daughter? Was honour really thicker than blood?
'..."You are of the standards of District Twelve. You are no daughter of mine."'
Each female tribute was stood poised, ready to volunteer. Except me, of course.
"…Gem Watson!" A sigh that she wouldn't have to chance to compete was released from a red-headed girl with extremely short hair that was dotted with gem-encrusted bobby-pins, who I assumed to be Gem Watson.
'..."You are of the standards of District Twelve. You are no daughter of mine."'
Then the words everyone expected were screamed, as usual:
"I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!"
...
But no one, including myself, expected the words to emerge from my mouth.
-LineBreaker-
I sat alone in a cold, dark room awaiting visitors. If I ever got them, that was.
My own words replayed in my mind – merging with my mother's:
'..."You are of the standards of District Twelve. You are no daughter of mine."'
'"I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!"'It was my mother's fault. I was used to her disappointment – but her pure hatred drove me to volunteering. Her voice was constantly niggling in my head – causing the human instinct to prove myself to balance out my fear.
Irene, Ira and Iris scampered in first. Iris hugged me – kissing my cheek.
"You finally did it. I'm proud of you, big sis." I melted into her hug then – perhaps this wasn't so bad. Maybe I'd get a few minutes of appreciation. Maybe I'd feel wanted for the first time over the past four years before I met my end.
Before I met my end.
I was District Two! I have been training all my life for this moment! I am no Twelve! My odds are high – my fear useless. Push past the fear – and I could come home. My mother could be proud of me.
I could be loved – be part of a family for the rest of my life.
"Thanks, Ir." Irene looked up at me with hopeful eyes – the only blonde Everett, as she took after our long-dead father, addressed me next.
"Clove...I know we haven't been so nice." She blushed, looking at the floor.
"But I love you, big sister – and...And I know you're scared and all, but please try to win. You have the skills, just not the heart." I kissed her forehead.
"I'll do my best, Ire." Finally, it was my turn to talk to Ira.
"Ira, you're being reaped next year for the first time. My advice: Don't make the mistake I did. Try to volunteer, even if I don't make it back." She nodded, unable to make a sound – before a peacekeeper yelled at them.
"Time up. Next person: In." My sisters gave me a tearful glance as they raced out, allowing a red-headed girl with blue eyes to melt into my arms.
"Cassidy," I smiled. She was my best friend – the only other person who understood my fear, not that she shared it. She'd tried to volunteer plenty of times but had never been quick enough.
At least her family still loved her for it.
"Clove." She smiled for a second, before breaking apart our embrace.
"What were you thinking? I thought you hated the Games!" She looked fierce, but her tone suggested otherwise.
"I do. I really do." I bit my down hard onto my lip – easily anticipating the next question.
"Then why on EARTH did you volunteer?" She shrieked, but sounded less furious and more worried for my sanity.
"Mother told me to leave home after the reaping. I was furious...And I wasn't thinking." Cassidy shook her head, red curls flurrying around her face.
"Well, it could be worse. You could be from twelve." I almost laughed.
"And that could be worse how?" At least there my cowardice would be understo- wait, what was I thinking? No matter how bad I feel about the games, I never, ever thought I'd envy someone from District Twelve. I don't envy someone from District Twelve – I haven't sunk that low; not yet.
"Clove – you have ability! STRONG ability! Your knife-throwing skills can kill a single person before they blink. You can run faster than anyone I've ever seen – your climbing skills aren't that great, nor is your ability to identify plants – but other than that, the only thing that is stopping you from winning is your annoying. Damn. Stupid. HEART!" Seeing the redhead fume in such a way almost made me laugh – a small redhead trying to shout at me wasn't the scariest image, after all – but her words registered.
"You're right." I admitted weakly.
Cassidy sighed. "I don't want this to be the last time I see you, Clovey, but if you can't get past your heart then I'm afraid it will be. Loose the kindness, Clove. I'm not saying you should become some stoic plank of wood – but if you want to survive, then you need to follow the Hunger Games rule without FAIL: Kill or be killed."
I shivered – her speech had hit home. "Okay." Was all I could muster.
"Out. Time is up." Cassidy hugged me tight – but before leaving she pulled something out of her hair. Her favourite bobby-pin.
"It's not for a token or anything, I assume your mum will give you one of them-" I laughed inwardly at that "-but just...Keep it. As a reminder of me, yeah? As a reminder that you need to lose the love to win the Games." I nodded, smiling at the redhead as a peacekeeper shot her a warning glance.
"I'm leaving, sir," she promised – blurting out a final: "Good luck, Clovey," before running out. End of visitors for me, then.
Or so I thought.
Muttering emerged from behind the thick wooden door that separated me from my home of District Two.
"Is it too late?" A woman's muffled voice asked.
"Yes, madam." An emotionless voice that clearly belonged to a peacekeeper stated.
"Please, I only need a minute." A moment of silence, before:
"Okay, but make it quick." A dark-haired woman bobbed through the door.
"Mother," I didn't know what to say – whether to feel honoured or ashamed that she had come to visit me. So, I was important now I volunteered – was I?
Clearly, not.
"I'm glad you saw sense, Clove." She said near-emotionlessly.
"If I return, do I still have to leave?" I muttered silently – desperate to prove that my stupid, heat-of-the-moment actions weren't for nothing.
"That depends. If you do return – then yes. But the real question is: Will you return? Your emotions out-way your agility and ability Clove, which will get you killed." She pulled a silver necklace out from her pocket – the metal reflecting light around the dingy room.
The piece attached was a sharp knife with an intricately carved handle; Clove was scribed onto the tiny blade.
"I had this made a few days before your first reaping. Knives are your speciality, Clove – which is why I chose this. I've kept it all these years, waiting for you to mend the broken heart you gave me when you stayed silent that first time. Now, I wish for this to be your district token." She placed it around my neck, and I sighed inwardly. This was the kindest my mother had been to me since I was eleven years old.
"Make me proud for once, Clove. Honour this family – or die and have your name smudged in history." My heart was pounding in my chest at that comment.
"Time's up." My mother nodded to me, before turning to leave.
No, no, no! She couldn't go yet. I needed to catch up on the love I'd missed these past four years.
"Mother!" I cried, unsure what to say.
She paused. "Yes, Clove?"
"...I love you." I could enter the games in peace once I knew her response; which was:
"And I you, Clove. Don't fail me." And with that, she was gone. The door was closed, waiting for some peacekeepers to take me to District Two's escort, Lusa Jamison, for my time to start ticking down till my Games began.
This year, I knew the name of the winner of the Seventy-Fourth Annual Hunger Games.
Clove Everett.
So...What do you think? I was thinking for Clato later on in the actual Games – she could get used to love after years of disappointment from her mother :)
Reviews? :3