Clato: Cuts Beneath the Surface

Chapter 31

Reaping Day.

The day that will decide my fate once and for all.

A cool sense of calm settles over me as I near the town square. Our Justice Building casts a shadow over the mobs of people. Everyone is well dressed and politely mannered today. It is considered a holiday here in 2. The day we've been waiting for all year has finally arrived.

Knowing I will be seen on tv all across Panem, I have chosen something special to wear today. Elise lent it to me but its not even close to her size. I'm pretty sure she bought it for me. It is all black with a tulle skirt, sweetheart neckline and little onyx jewels embedded along the top. It's beautiful. With my hair pulled up and my black heels on, I am menacing and fierce. No one is going to come between me and my crown.

At least, that's what the outfit says. On the inside I am nervously weighing my options. I know that Cato is important to me. There's no longer any way to deny that he is a part of my life. And even though Razor Forman's test proved I would kill Cato in the arena, I don't think I could live with myself afterwards. On the other hand, this is the Hunger Games. There is no room for weakness or doubt. Once we are in there, he can no longer be my friend. Inside the arena there are only enemies.

With my thoughts so jumbled I don't even notice the old man in front of me. I reach the edge of the square and slam right into him. He is dressed in rags, half shaved and stooped over. A floppy hat covers his face. Time has not been good to this decrepit soul. I begin to apologize but he sneers at me and comes closer. His bony hands grab my arms.
"You're entering the games after all." he coughs. His voice is eerily familiar.

"Yes." I say and try to break free of his hold.

"You better hope you die in that arena. There will be hell to pay if you ever return alive." he hisses with such venom it nearly knocks me over. The old man's hands rake down my body and once again I try to shove him off. This time I am successful. I stare in horror at the grey eyes underneath his hat. The man spits at me and I take off. He is not old or senile. He is a monster.

He is Favian.

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I join the group of girls aged 17 and wait as the ceremony begins. They play the same Capital mumbo-jumbo every year. It's all pander. I tune it out, trying to block the image of Favian's hissing face. I don't allow myself to think of what he means by the threat. Right now the Games are what matters.

But do they really?

I've had doubts for some time now. Is this all really worth it? For the glory and fame. To prove that I am more than a victim? Is this worth proving that I can make others hurt too?
I don't know anymore.

What I do know is that Cato will be in these Games. There is nothing that can stop him from taking his place in the arena and coming home when his brother didn't. For a few minutes I toy with idea of letting someone else get the honor. I am only 17. If I change my mind I can go in next year. Without Cato to worry about. Before I can make my decision an absurdly dressed woman takes to the stage and makes the announcement. As in all the districts, we will reap the ladies first.

I haven't made up my mind yet. What should I do? I begin to feel the edges of a panic attack and push it away. Not here, not now. The Capitol lady pulls out a slip of paper. Her name is Cordelia if I remember correctly. She slowly opens the slip and totters towards the mike. All of district two holds their breath.

"Elise Meadows." she calls.

My heart stops. Elise takes a trembling step forward from her spot in the crowd. I see her lower lip tremble. And in that moment my decision is made for me.

"I volunteer!" I shout with as much rage and bluster as I can. I have to make a good impression. I can't let anyone know I almost changed my mind. I cant let anyone realize I didn't do it because I was supposed to. I did it to save my friend. There is no place for hearts in the Games.

I march up to the stage, avoiding Elise's pitying and grateful gaze. When Cordelia asks I say my name loudly and very clear into the microphone. I am announced to the districts and the Capitol. I don't let an ounce of fear or regret slip into my expression. I am Clove Fuhman and I will be feared.

Then Cordelia moves on to the boys. She sticks her manicures hand into the glass bowl and draws a piece of paper. "Evan Holdridge." she calls. Before the name is finished Cato barrels through the crowd.

"I volunteer as tribute!" he shouts and climbs onto the stage. My heart sinks. This is the end of everything. Cordelia happily announces her two volunteers. We glare for the sake of the cameras and shake hands. I'm not sure who let go the fastest. I can't meet Cato's eye. Cordelia leads us off the stage. I can still hear them cheering as the door to the Justice building slams shut behind us.