Clove opened her eyes as sunlight streamed through the windows. She lay in her bed, not wanting to get up. It had been a day since she had last seen her mother and since then, she had been in her bed, resting her body and treating the various colorful bruises all across her body. Sitting up, she winced. The largest and most painful one was near her midsection, around the side of her stomach. It ran from her ribs to her hips and was turning a repulsive purple colour. There was no way she could go in the woods for the next few days, not until the bruise faded away. At least all her injuries weren't in visible places. She could wear a long-sleeved shirt and pants and no one would notice a thing.

After an unpleasant trip to the bathroom, Clove looked outside. The sun was shining brightly, with not a cloud in sight. What day was it? Clove had never exactly been an unorganized person but the past few days had her mind going wild. Going back to last week, Clove counted down the days until she reached… the day of the reaping? Her eyes widened. Was that today? She went over to her closet, furiously digging to look for a calendar. It confirmed that today was indeed, reaping day. Panic settled itself in her mind and her brain started to overthink. Looking out the window again, Clove assumed that it was near noon. Even though she was still in pain, attendance was mandatory at the reaping and absence was unacceptable, unless there was a good reason. Quickly pulling out another of her black suits, she lifted her shirt above her head and stood in front of the mirror. She was running short on time but her eyes were fixed on the bruise on the side of her stomach. It was a constant reminder of her mother's unexplainable hatred and disgust toward her. She thought about the words her mother had spoken to her, "It was your fault anyway. Why he left." What did that even mean? All Clove had ever known about her father was that he had left her and her mother when she was four. She vaguely remembered a tall man with dark hair and a laugh that made everyone else smile. Otherwise, there were no pictures or letters that held a resemblance to who her father was and why he left her. Or maybe there were, but she had just never had the chance to come across them.

Stepping out the door, the brilliance of the sun hit Clove hard. She squinted, holding her hand above her eyes. It was already noon and she was running a bit late, but not enough that it would cause suspicion. After reaching the Square where the reaping was being held, she checked in with the Peacekeepers to let them know she was there. The Peacekeepers were quite useless here, since no one caused too much trouble and most people followed the rules, but they were still always around. As she stood next to the group of the other girls her age, she felt a sudden wave of loneliness rush across her. All around her she saw families hugging and comforting each other that everything would be okay, that the odds would be in their favor. But Clove no longer had a family. She no longer had anyone caring after her, comforting her. Her mother was probably somewhere in the crowd of the other mothers, only coming to the reaping because it was necessary. Clove's heart hardened. It was foolish to want someone to care. Only people who were desperate for love wanted that, and she was not one of them. The speaker for District 2, Honor Donohue, was getting ready to speak when Clove saw a flash of blond hair out of the corner of her eye. Him again. Clove panicked and tried to hide her face with a curtain of hair, but it was too late. Cato had already seen her and was trying to mouth something to her. She narrowed her eyes and tried to decipher what he was saying but shook her head to tell him to forget it. Honor was now introducing the Hunger Games and its purpose but Clove's mind was elsewhere. Was her mother sober right now? Had she been at Carl's the past few days? What would happen when she got back home? Her thoughts were interrupted by Honor clearing her throat up at the stage.

"Alright. Now that we've got that covered, ladies first." She smiled, reaching her hand into a clear bowl filled with slips of paper. She took her time picking out a slip and unfolding it.

In a loud, strong voice, Honor called out, "Clove Kentwell!"

Heads turned to swivel in Clove's direction, as time seemed to slow down. People awkwardly started clapping and all eyes were glued on the unfortunate girl who would be fighting to the death soon enough. Instead of panicking, all thoughts emptied from Clove's mind as she stood up straight and started her journey to the stage. She didn't feel afraid or anxious. She felt at peace. She could finally get away from her mother and the awful life she had in District 2. Clove would try her hardest to win the Games and come back as a hero. She would be showered with the Capitol's admiration and she'd never have to face her mother's wrath again. Her mood lifted and she let herself smile a little.

As she reached the stage, Honor gave her a once-over, smiled, and turned back to the podium.

"Now for the boy tribute." Honor said, sifting through the other bowl and singling one out. "Cato Patterson!"

Clove sighed as the crowd clapped dutifully and Cato walked up to the stage, his face bearing no expression. Clove would have no problem killing Cato when the time came, but did it really have to be him? Why not some poor innocent weakling that had no resemblance to her? Her mind wandered back to their training session, but she shook her head. It was better to keep him away and kill him without her feelings getting in the way.

"That concludes the reaping for the seventy-fourth Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" Honor finished, beaming as Clove and Cato shook hands. Cato's grip was firm and warm and his gaze never seemed to stray from Clove's face. Keeping her eyes on him, Clove nodded as a form of acknowledgement. She had the growing feeling that the Hunger Games this year would be rather interesting.


Oh God. This chapter took forever and it's still not that great. I rushed the last bit of this and it turned out pretty awful. :/ I encourage you all to hate me because I hate myself for this too ok. And about Clove and Cato's last names, I'm not even sure they're correct. I heard on tumblr a few days ago that Kentwell was Clove's last name so I just used that but I couldn't find Cato's, hence why I used a really lame one in the meantime. If I find out, I'll change it because it's really bothering me. But yeah, so the reaping's done, next is probably the pre-Games stuff and what-not. I'm going to go cry now because this sucks so bye.