Enemies to what? (Clato)

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I have no rights over these characters, they all belong to Suzanne Collins. Thank you.

Clove POV

Thwack. Thwack, Thwack. I throw my knives endlessly at the dummy in front of me. Always hitting fatal positions, but my favorite parts are the chest and heart. I found my aptitude for knives on my second week of training. This means it was 5 years ago. About a month after I found out my parents died, and changed for good. I still remember that moment like it was yesterday.

Flashback

I walk into training with my head down. The past week had been my first week of training, and to tell you simply, I failed. I tried out swords, spears, tridents, archery, and most weapons, but nothing fit me. I was terrible at everything. As I walked to where the trainer was going to begin talking, I hear a snicker, and my head swivels around, trying to find the source. My eyes land on the same group I saw a month ago. My heart sinks, I was hoping that they wouldn't notice me. I was lucky last week, but this week, I know I'm doomed. I turn away from them, but still hear the muffled laughter coming from their direction every time I take a step. Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me. I turn once again, and am met with piercing icy blue eyes. I look away from the eyes, and see that they belong to the body of the blonde boy who called out the mean statement. He gives me a smirk which seems to be his trademark, and says something to his friends, walking over to me. Nothing good can come out of this.

"Hi, my name is Cato, and my friends and I just wanted to welcome you to training. We hope you will feel comfortable here." He pats me on the back, turns and walks away to his once again laughing friends. I am so surprised and confused by what just happened,so I don't have time to suspect anything when the head trainer calls us in.

"Alright, if you are new this year, please go to stations you haven't been to yet." With this I turn around, only to have full blown laughter come out of everyone behind me. My face goes red, and my fists clench. Cato! He did this! I feel for something on my back, and my hands grasp a peice of paper. I yank it off of my back, crumpling it in my hands. I turn, with it in my hands to the dying laughter of my fellow trainees, and trainers. I have never been so embarrased in my life, and all I want to do is run out crying, but I will myself to be strong. The new Clove would never do something like that. So I scurry away to the first station I see. I look at the tables at that station and groan. They are covered in knives. Looking at them, knives seem like mini swords, and if I do the same with them, how I did with swords, I. Am. Dead.

I decide to give them a chance by picking one up. I look at the instructions to hold them, but when I put my hands in that position, it is so uncomfortable for me that I drop the knife immediately, I sigh, and pick it back up. When I grab it, my hand immediately goes to a certain position. I decide to try this, and make a throwing motion with the knife resting in my hand. The action seems comfortable, and the knife actually seems like the perfect weight for me, so I decide to give it a try. I look down at the crumpled sheet of paper in my hand before I throw. I set it on the table, and my hands smooth it out. Even crumpled, you can see the word "Midget" written in big red letters. My fists clench the piece of paper, and I rip it, dropping it to the floor in the process. Spinning towards the target, I ready the knife in my hand. I aim, pull my arm back, and take a deep breath. My arm swings forward and releases the knife. I hear a "Thwack!" and look up at the target. My jaw flies open. The knife hit the target. I look around at everyone and find them with their mouths open, even Cato and his group. Nobody else has hit the target yet. I smirk, and pick up another knife. I look at the paper to get some anger in me, and follow the same procedures as before. Thwack. Next to the first knife, though closer to the center of the target. I grin, knowing I've found my aptitude and that something has finally gone right in my messed up life.

End of Flashback

A lot has happened in those 5 years. Even though I wanted to become the tough girl who fights back, I can't. I'm still weak compared to others in physical combat . I'm still not over my parent's death, and refuse to live in the orphanage. I currently live in the streets. All the other districts think "Oh district 2 has it so easy! They don't have to work for anything! It is so unfair!" They know nothing. In district 2 we have a rich side, and a poor side. You can guess which side I live on. Some days I go hungry. Others I am able to find decent peices of uneaten food from garbage cans. On my lucky days when I have enough energy after training, I will go out and throw a few knives at some wildlife. In my opinion, the district 12 people have it better off than some of us, because they are known for their knowledge of plants and survival. Us? We know nothing, and are considered one of the stupid districts. Only few of us know wilderness survival that will come in handy. Luckily, I know a few facts, but they barely help me survive.

My back tingles with the sense of eyes burning into it, and slowly I turn around. My eyes land on a boy with spiky blonde hair, large muscles, and peircing icy blue eyes. Cato, or as I have come to know him, the jackass of district 2. My eyes land on his mouth which for once isn't formed in a smirk, but surprisingly, a scowl. The only comforting thing is that he is glaring at me. Like usual.

I raise my eyebrows to question why he is standing there. In answer he looks around. Finding no one else left in the training room he begins to strut over towards me. My hands tighten around the current knife in my hand, and I slide my tongue over my chapped lips, preparing my mouth for any remarks needed. I find at that moment, surprisingly, none are needed.

"Look Clove, I overheard from one of the trainers that we are going to be the two tribute selected for The 74th Games. That means next year" His words hit me, and my thoughts begin to wander to all the payback I will be able to inflict upon him for the years of torture. I am brought back to the conversation with a feeling of pain on my right cheek.

"Sorry Midget, but you were gone for minute, and it was just too tempting. Plus I had to knock some sense into you." I clutch the right side of my face which is throbbing with pain from his punch. I know it will be swollen tomorrow. Usually I know better than to speak back to Cato or one of his friends after they injure me, but this time, I was not as wise.

"How did you find out we were going into the games, the trainers are supposed t choose next years tributes in 6 months. Or did you just have a dream about killing me, and since all dreams of Cato are holy, decided it was going to happen. Except if you are right about us being tributes, it's not. I will be the victor, whether you like it or not." I snap, and then quickly turn away, sending my long brown ponytail into his eyes. Speed walking away, I hear him growl, and know he was first in shock of what I just said. I would be too. I have never truly fought back like that, much less babbled about how I was going to kill him! Tomorrow in training, I know it will be a bad day. With the comeback I said that probably means a black eye, and a bruised rib. I know I am in no shape to go collecting or hunting, so that means a bad night as well. But even with these setbacks, I know if what he said is true, what I said will be true as well. They should not underestimate me, because Clove Kentwell, the future victor, has a plan of just how to beat them.