Too young to die

The Reaping

Clove awoke, a chill spreading through her veins. It was a few hours before the reaping. After what her parents had said to her, she grit her teeth and tried not to lash out. They thought she couldn't win. 

"Now, Clove, don't embarrass yourself by volunteering," her sister Angeline snarked through bites of dinner. 

"We wouldn't want you to bring shame on the family. After all, you're only 15 years old. And your body wasn't built for combat, either." scoffing, her sister took another large bite of steamed wild rice and turkey. The special meal her parents prepared to level her energy up. 

She was it in their eyes. They thought she wasn't worthy of honour and glory, like her sister. Perfect, stunning Angeline, exactly 6 feet tall and made of pure muscle. Her hulking figure demanded the attention of everyone in a room. There was no doubt she would be extremely popular amongst an audience. District 2 was friendly with the Capitol, receiving occasional gifts and supplies for every year's tributes. Clove had trained alongside Angeline for as long as she could remember, just to be cast aside by her parents. 

"Your darling sister will bring home all the fame and glory, Clove. Don't be foolish enough to even think about volunteering."

It was like a curse. As soon as her mother- who happened to be a past victor of the 60th annual Hunger Games at age 16, had uttered the very words, Clove knew she had to volunteer. She wanted to prove to her neglectful parents that she could win. That all started by making oneself presentable. Taking a deep breath, Clove slipped quietly out of her covers, and went to the washroom. Their house was not a distasteful shack, like the ones in the poor districts, but rather similar to an apartment in the Capitol. 

They had marble tables, separate rooms for every family member, and a training room in the basement. Clove loved throwing knives by herself; feeling the brisk thrill of aiming at a target. Her coach was constantly reminding her that maybe one day the bull's eye might be a person. She carefully braided her waist length dark brown hair into two neat plaits. She didn't particularly enjoy the hairstyle, but once her classmate Cato had told her the plaits made her look "presentable". 

Next, she shaped her unruly brows, dabbed on minimal makeup, and changed into skintight leggings and a fancy blue tp. Reaping clothes always made Clove feel exposed. She could not hide behind her usual drab training uniform. Suddenly, she heard a light click behind her. A pale face emerged from the darkness. It was her sister, Angeline. 

Long, shiny caramel coloured hair, jade green eyes, luscious ruby lips, thick lashes, and an impressive figure. She was the envy of District 2. Most of all, Angeline could beat every Career boy in almost any skill. Wrestling, shooting arrows, fistfights, strength, one on one combat, her immense talents could surpass any competitor. Yet Clove couldn't help but feel frustrated. She felt as if all the attention was constantly directed towards her sister. 

"Why are you up so early?" Angeline asked, looming over Clove. Her sister was taller than most people in District 2. Somehow, genetics hadn't caught up to her. 

"Oh, Clovey, that's not how you want to look," her sister laughed, brushing away some of the eye makeup Clove had carefully applied. Suddenly, she felt extremely angered. She pushed her sister away with hard force, and Angeline stumbled. A makeup brush clattered to the floor.

"I don't think you get to decide how I look on reaping day," Clove said coldly, then picked up the brush, closing the door in her sister's face. What a narcissistic, spoiled, arrogant brat-

"Clove, I was just trying to help..." Angeline protested, opening the door a tiny bit.

"No, thank you," Clove scowled, and walked away. Now her brat of a sister had ruined her carefully curated reaping look. She sighed quietly. It wasn't like she wore makeup regularly. Unlike some of the other fussy and spoiled girls in her district whose fathers had overflowing bags of money, Clove did not particularly care about her appearance. She wanted to scare away the weak with her intimidating face. People may refer to her as "2nd best"- her sister being the number 1, but holding an aggressive demeanor was her way of finding the strong ones. After all, only fearless people who matched her strength would want to approach her. Clove stepped into her room, closing the door behind her. Her typically messy room was completely reorganized, neat duffel bags packed to the brim with survival tools. She was fully prepared to volunteer today. Angeline would not steal her chance of winning. Oh, no, not today. Clove cracked a lethal looking smile. Her eyes radiated danger. It was time to get ready for some bloodshed.