A Thousand Years. (A Clato Fan Fiction) {Editing}

Chapter 3 "The Reaping" {Edited}

Clove’s PoV

I wake up in my safe haven, the arms of Cato. Today is going to be one of the hardest days of our lives. We’re saying goodbye to the people who raised us. I force my head up off his chest, trying not to wake him up. That plan is failing. Cato moans and shields the sunlight from his face.

“It’s the Reaping today, isn’t it?” Cato asks me, unsure. I nod, or else my voice will croak from tears threatening to betray me.

“We’d better get your dress from your house,” he says. I nod once again. “Wait at the door Clover, I’ll walk you to your house after I change.”

I don’t say a word. He doesn’t seem to notice as he is probably too caught up in the day. I sheepishly walk towards the front door, smoothing the crinkles on my dress shirt.  The door opens and Mr and Mrs Hadley walk in.

“Morning Clove.” 

“Back at you, Mrs Hadley.” I smile. Mr Hadley used to be funny but ever since finding out his son might die, he’s been quite cranky.

“This one,” she points at her husband, “wants Cato to win. I know he’s our son and all…”

“It’s all right, Mrs Hadley. I understand.” She pushes her bleach blonde hair out of her glassy eyes. “I’ll take of him for you. As his best friend and fiancée, I promise he won’t return, unless it’s over my dead body.”

Cato walks in, looking the exact same as the night before.

“Hey mum, dad.” Cato’s dad grabs him by the shoulders and grits his teeth.

“You are coming back. Understand that. I didn’t work this hard for a dead son and daughter.”

“Only if the odds are in my favour. And District 2 doesn’t even need luck to win,” Cato replies arrogantly to make his father feel better. He opens the front door and makes his way to the footpath. I begin to follow until Mr Hadley grips onto my arm.

“Don’t get in his way.” I snatch my arm away and don’t respond.

My parents aren’t home. There’s only a little note waiting for me on my bedroom door. Turns out, they’re already at the ceremony, early. I slip on my small black dress with my red accessories on. The Reaping is a very special occasion. I have to look scary to the other tributes. To add more to the ‘look’, I strap on a few throwing knives to my dress. Makeup is just the usual, red lipstick, black eyeliner. I examine myself in the mirror. Do I look intimidating? Yes. 

I look bloodthirsty.

Cato’s PoV

Clove runs out of her house. I’ve always known she’s bloodthirsty, but I’ve never seen it. She’d make any tribute afraid of her, and yet she’s too beautiful to make them fall for her. Clove takes hold of my fingers and runs towards the Town Square. I squeeze her hand tightly when we have to part ways to so the Capitol could identify us. Neither of us says a word. Blood drips out of my finger, and I barely feel the pinch. Clove is nowhere to be seen. I have to stand at the back because I’m tall and 18. Clove would be somewhere in the middle. The crowd settles down when microphone feedback sounds through the Town Square. Everyone takes a seat uncomfortably, in tension.

A woman from the Capitol, wearing a pastel dress that looks like a cupcake introduces herself as Spectra. In an enthusiastic tone she says, “Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favour!” After a little speech, a video that I’ve watched for the past 5 years, plays. 

“Who’s excited for the Reaping? I know I am!” she exclaims brightly. “We’ll start with the girls.”  She dips her fingers into the bowl and picks up one small, crumpled paper.

“Clove Sevina,” the lady announces.

My heart feels like someone just speared it. I knew it was coming but it still hurt dreadfully. Everyone starts clapping, as it was an honour to be reaped. Clove begins to walk up when a few 18-year-old girls run up trying to volunteer. She grabs her knife from her dress and pins one of them to the ground. 

“That’s a message for all of you.” Clove carves ‘My year’ onto the below the girl’s neck. The rest of them back away. The scar is gruesomely bleeding into a small puddle. Peacekeepers pull Clove off and take her victim to medical attention. Clove walks proudly up to the stage while everyone cheers and claps.

“Now for the male tribute.” 

“I volunteer!” I yell out before our soon-to-be escort even says the name. No one even dares to threaten my place as a tribute. I am the strongest in 2 after all.

Clove’s PoV

If I was 14 and he was 17, then we’d be celebrating that we get to kill each other and finally prove which one of us is stronger. We’re not childish anymore. Life finally became unfair to us. We were awoken to the fact that we loved each other. Cato will be crowned victor of the 74th Hunger Games.

 “Our 2 tributes! Cato Hadley and Clove Sevina!” Spectra yells, beaming with pride.

We are separated into two different rooms. The wall is too clean in the room I’m stuck in. There is a small desk, chair and a bookshelf. What an interesting room. The door slams open and my mother is the first one to barge in. She almost suffocates me in her arms, making my shoulder wet from her tears.

“Stay safe, Clove. I love you.” Her voice is broken.

“Love you too, Mum. And thank you for being there for me. You too, Dad.”

“I’ll never regret adopting you. That was and still is, the best decision I’ve made,” says Dad. He embraces me in his arms.

“Clove, will you come back?” Blade, my little brother, sobs. I lean towards his ear.

“I don’t know. But don’t tell Mum and Dad. You’re the best brother anyone could ever have. Don’t worry about me. I want you to one day, grow up and fall in love with a beautiful girl. Then get married and have lots of little Blades!” I whisper happily with tears running down my cheeks.

“I’m going to miss you.” He buries his head into my shoulder.

“Me too, Blade. Me too.” 

Peacekeepers escort my devastated family out and two familiar people enter the room. Orchid and Hunter, my friends that were there for me when Cato wasn’t.

“Good luck. I wish I knew you for longer, kid.” Hunter pulls me into his arms.

I pull out my Lucky knife, the one memory that I couldn’t bring with me. “I want you to have this, Orchid. It’s a bit scary but it describes me.”

“Thank you. You’re the best girl-friend ever,” she says and accepts the gift.

“Hopefully, we’ll meet again.”

I am told to go to the train by Spectra. She ushers me out the door and across the stone walkway to the train tracks. A bullet train awaits me. The train bringing me too close to my death.