Sharp Tools

Chapter 6: Before the 66th Hunger Games

Clove's POV:

For the next several weeks, I stay glued to the screen. Even if there's only a chance of seeing Dallas in the background or in small clips, I stay near the tv. The only thing I refuse to watch are the Reapings. It just reminds me that it might be the last time I ever get to talk to him again.

"Clove, come play!!"

"Why don't you want to play with us anymore?"

Carter and Crystal don't get it. They're too young to. They don't understand that their big brother might die and it'll be the last time they'll see them. I know it might be mean, but I continue to ignore their pleas and focus on the Games.

As days go by, Mom continuously attempts to shift my focus to anything but the Games.

"Clove, why don't you go outside and play with your friends?"

"Do you want to help me make dinner?"

"Crystal wants you to sing with her. You know she loves your voice."

She eventually leaves me alone, but yesterday she just snapped. I was so focused on the television and Caesar Flickerman talking that I didn't even hear her call my name.

"CLOVE!"

"Huh? What?"

She sighed, and I could see the conflict in her blue eyes. "Clove, looking at the tv all day isn't going to bring him back."

"I know," I said softly, "but I miss him."

Mom sat on the couch next to me. "He wouldn't want you to throw your life away for him."

"I know," I responded, looking away. We sat next to each other for hours or minutes, I couldn't tell. But eventually I heard Mom's footsteps as she retreated back to the kitchen to make dinner.

"Please come back," I heard Mom whisper. "Our family's falling apart."

And I couldn't help but silently agree. Dad's gone all day and night. I barely see him, but when I do he seems out of it. Crystal and Carter barely understand what's happening. And Mom? I know she puts up a strong front for us, but every time I look at her I see an empty void of nothingness in her eyes that used to sparkle.

Then I heard something. As I turned around, a tear dropped from Mom's eye and down her cheek. A frown encompassed her face and her whole body shook.

Never will I forget that moment where I saw the strongest person I knew about to crumble.

Uncomfortable and defeated, I left my house and walked down the street.

"Clove!" I heard someone call.

When I turned around, I spotted Macy running up to me. Quickly, she gave me a hug. "I haven't seen you in a while."

I shrugged. "Yeah, I've been busy I guess."

"Everyone's wondering where you've been."

"Just tell 'em around."

She gave me a sad look. "Clove,"

I ignored her gaze and walked away. "I'll see you later Mace."

Finally, they show the Tribute Parade. I beam with pride as I watch Dallas and his district partner stand in their chariot wearing some ridiculous outfit. He looks strong and fierce. I hear the crowd chanting his name in the background as President Snow looks on them. I ignore his speech as my eyes focus on the Tributes from each district.

District 1's boy looks strong. The girl... she's pretty I guess. But it looks like that's all she's good for. I grab some paper from my room and jot some notes about each tribute, knowing it'll probably help no one. That night, as I lie in bed, I spot my guitar in the corner. I climb out of bed and grab it, feeling the familiarity of the strings. I close my eyes as my fingers strum peaceful notes, lulling my brain to sleep.

Days later, during the Interviews, I watch as each male and female tribute tries to impress the audience, hopefully gaining sponsors and admirers. Disgusting.

The boy from 1 goes for the stereotypical cocky jerk. This time I only wanted to watch Dally's interview, but for some reason the girl from 1 caught my attention. And not in a good way.

"How am I looking tonight?" Caesar asks the audience. "Am I shining, am I Shimmering?"

The crowd cheers as the female from 1 walks onto the stage. One look at her and I already know what angle she's going for. I'm sure if my mom saw me watching this, she'd immediately turn it off. The girl, Shimmer, is wearing a transparent dress where everyone could see her underwear under the bright lights. I roll my eyes and try not to gag, wanting to turn the screen off but knowing my brother is next, I don't.

"So Shimmer," Caesar starts, "you are such a sight for sore eyes. I'm sure you have a man back home."

"Well, Caesar," she smiles suggestively, "I came here single, but who knows, a handsome lad might catch my attention." With that Shimmer turns her head toward the tributes waiting the the wing and gives a wink to someone off stage.

Almost immediately, a pit forms in my stomach. Is she talking about her district partner? Probably, because there's no way Dallas would fall for her. Right? He's not that stupid. She's obviously just vying for attention and sponsors.

I shake my head as the bell rings and Dallas enters the stage. He's wearing a black and gray suit and I can't help but smile as he receives many cheers from the audience.

"Dallas! My boy, how are you tonight?"

"Good, Caesar. Excited for tomorrow of course."

"Nervous?"

Dallas gives a smirk to the audience, his eyes shimmering with playfulness. "The others? Probably. Me? No way. This is my dream."

As his words, I sit confused. His dream? I stay confused at this revelation, so focused on it that I miss half of his interview. I shake my head as my attention turns back to the screen.

"You have a lucky girl back home?" Caesar asks.

"I got a little sister. The best friend I got."

"Aww that's sweet. How was she when you left?"

In his face, I spot a moment of hesitation. "Proud. It's her dream to see her big bro win. I mean, IT'S THE HUNGER GAMES!!" Dallas shouts, emitting confidence with a smug grin.

Caesar chuckles. "Well, it's clear that you're ready. And tell me, how did you manage to get a score of 10?"

10? Oh shoot, I forgot that I missed the scores. After that incident with Mom, I tried to listen to her and not stay cooped up in the house all day.

"A winner never tells." Dallas smirks.

"Oh but can't you tell us a tiny secret. I mean, I think you and a certain tribute can do quite the damage."

Wait what?

Like Shimmer, he turns his head to the wing and gives a wink to the tributes in the wing. "Stay tuned to find out. And to the other tributes: Good luck."

With that, the bell rings, signaling the end of his time onstage and the start of my brain.

What does he mean by that?

But before he exits the stage, Dallas stares at a camara, and for the first time I can tell, gives a real smile and says, "Those tributes are gonna need a 4-leaf-clover in order to get out of this one."

I barely hear the audience laugh and scream as the next tribute enters the stage.

4-leaf clover. That's me.