Clove:

Cato doesn't like me. He doesn't like my attitude, or the fact that I'm the only one in the entire Academy that is more superior at their specialty than him. Well, mister daddy's boy, not everything in the world has to bend to your will. If my will was the universal law, my father would not have walked out on us, nor would my sister have died alone in the cold rain on that fateful day. But that has made me who I am today.

These vengeful thoughts are pouring through my head as I fight. It's a normal afternoon in the cold months of the year; however I'm sweating furiously as I attempt to not get impaled by a sword blade. My genius trainer, Britannicus, had the magnificent idea to combine lessons with his other pupil, none other than the godlike, oh-so-powerful, marvelous Cato Hadley today. Joy to the world.

Yes, I will admit, he's much more adept at the sword than I am, but that doesn't hold a candle to my knifing skills.

"Getting tired, kitten?" Cato sneers.

This jibe sends a fiery energy through my veins and I lunge forward with more drive, sending my own sword blade to his throat. "Never," I hiss back.

After dueling some more, the previously burning energy has begun to recede. Cato starts driving me backwards. Every step forward solicits two steps back. Finally he pins me to the far wall. "I win," he says viciously. "Again."

I spit in his face. "Because you're far too cowardly to touch the knives and risk, oh my god, could it be? Losing? But of course not, we can't take the chance."

His blue eyes glare down at me. "SAY THAT TO MY FACE."

That idiot, Britannicus, finally notices that the huge man-mass has more than a decent chance at killing me right now, and calls out, "That's enough, Cato!"

Cato releases me, but not before aiming a kick at my shin. I keep the scream in, but that bruise just one more hindrance that's going to restrain my chances of volunteering at the reaping in six months. If the little girl can be injured so easily with just a kick to the leg, how can she survive the Hunger Games? That's what everyone thinks. Well, this little girl doesn't go down without a fight.

"That's it for today, guys," Britannicus informs us. "You're welcome to stay, but no more than an hour or you'll have to pay for a space." Hell. Everyone knows that I can't afford to pay money for extra time at the Academy. My mother works too hard just for the training Britannicus offers, which is already cheap (but of quality) compared to other trainers.

"Poor little deprived kitten," Cato croons viciously. "She can't even afford a few hours in a private space so she can continue failing at fencing. Poor little Clover."

Anger surges up inside of me and I bite back a scream of anger. I settle for an angered hiss. "Shut. Up. NOW."

"Make me," Cato sneers. "You know you can't."

I lunge at him, screaming obscenities and pulling a small pocketknife from my shoe. "YOU RICH LAZY ASS! YOU THINK MONEY GUARANTEES SUCCESS? LET ME TELL YOU, I DON'T HAVE MUCH MONEY, BUT I MADE IT TO THE ACADEMY ON A SCHOLARSHIP, AND I COULD THROW KNIVES BETTER WHEN I WAS TEN THAN YOU CAN SWORD-FIGHT NOW! POVERTY WAS MY MOTIVATION, AND IT HAS MADE ME A BETTER FIGHTER THAN YOU WILL EVER BE! ALL YOU HAVE IS YOUR ANGER! THAT WON'T GET YOU ANYWHERE."

Cato's eyes fill with ice, and he shoves me so I'm slammed against the wall. "You insolent bitch."

I disregard the insult, and instead notice that this is one of few exceptions to the fact that Cato pretty much never calls me anything but "kitten," and "Clover."

"Insolent, maybe," I consent, trying to cool my temper. "But I have reason for it."

"Kitten, you couldn't reason with a rock," Cato says patronizingly. "At some point, you have to face the fact that I can beat you."

I resist the urge to punch him, and instead slip out the door fuming.

I throw my bag onto the table when I get home. "MOM I'M BACK!" I shout, opening the cabinet. I pull out an apple and go to my room. "Mom?" I call out.

There's no answer. I slip into her bedroom, finding it empty. I go through the rest of the house to no avail. It's fine. She probably had to work later over at the quarry. It's happened before.

An hour passes, and I start working out, due to boredom. After what has to be my fiftieth pushup, a knock sounds at the front door. She doesn't have a key, either? Wow.

I swing it open, and instead of my mother, a tall Peacekeeper stands on the threshold. "Clove Sevina?" he asks.

"Y-yes," I stutter, nervousness threatening to pour into my voice.

"Come with me."

I step outside in my tank top and shorts, hugging my shoulders. It's past eight now. The official leads me through the woods. I recognize the well-worn path. It's the way to the quarry. Dread fills my heart and I speed up.

The path finally breaks through the trees after maybe fifteen minutes of walking, and I see lights in the quarry.

I start jogging down the hill until I reach the edge of the pit. A female official asks me, "Are you Clove, daughter of Autumn Sevina?"

"Yes," I say anxiously. "Where's my mother?"

The Peacekeeper helps me down and I move closer to the crowd of people, shoving through until I can see the body of a woman lying still. She has the same dark hair as me, and her lifeless hazel eyes stare up at the sky. I nearly gag at the horrible dent in her skull. Her arms are scratched and bloodied, and a gash in her leg still drips blood.

I drop to my knees, and a thin wailing scream erupts somewhere in the crowd. My mind is spinning, and somewhere in the cyclone of thoughts, a notion hits me, that this pained shrieking is coming from me.

Thunder crackles overhead, and a light drizzle begins to fall. I throw myself on top of my mother's body as if to protect her from the rain, and weep. My last bit of family is all gone. All that was necessary was the footstep on a rock that couldn't take anymore to crash down and kill her.

A pair of hands reaches down to pull me up, but I fight against it. "NO!" I scream hysterically.

"Clover?" A bewildered voice cuts through the crowd. A familiar tall figure steps through the throng of people and stands behind me. "What are you doing here?"

"WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M DOING HERE?" I cry. "MY MOTHER IS DEAD. SHE DIED IN THE QUARRY THAT YOUR FATHER IS IN CHARGE OF!" Then I bury my face in my mother's neck and continue crying.

Eventually everything fades away into nothingness as I black out.

A/N: PLEASE PM FEEDBACK TO ME :) I'd really appreciate it, as I haven't really written many fanfictions.