Blood, Gore and A Little Bit More

Clove- District 2

I wake up to the sound of a mockingjay trilling away outside my window.

I grab the knife off my bedside table, and bye-bye birdy.

I sit up and yawn. God, it's another day of school. I need to wear earmuffs to that place.

What I meant by that was, I'm bullied. Whether it be a shove in the hallway that sends my tiny frame flying, or a horrid nickname to add to my book, it happens. But I get through it.

Cato is my rock. I don't know how I'd cope without him as my constant, my guardian angel.

Things are better since I met him. Someone shoves me? Hope they like district 8! Someone calls me names? They get a taste of their own medicine!

Checking my calendar, I gasp. Tomorrow is the reaping!

Stupid training centre. I have to volunteer because I'm the best of the girls in the academy.

My weapon is throwing knives. I can beat the trainers!

Once, me and Cato were tested against some moving dummies, but we were blindfolded! We had 12 dummies each, moving, and we took them out in under a minute. The best time before us was 1:36 but Cato got 0:34 and I got 0:35!

That was the day we discovered our fate.

That we, best friends, had to enter the arena together in the 74th, where only one comes out alive.

I shook my head free of these thoughts and pulled on a purple jumpsuit. This was adequate for school and training before the reaping tomorrow that would either ruin or end my life.

Come on Clove, you need to be strong. You are the most feared girl in 2.

During this time I have eaten a meagre breakfast of seeds and milk.

Not all of two is rich, ok?

I grab my bag, a leather rucksack, and run out the door.

The rest of the day until training is a blur, and when I get there, I head straight for the knives.

I pick up my favourite knife, long, thick and glistening silver, and throw it at the human dummy target, piercing the brain.

Focus.

I throw another of my favourites, which is actually a combat dagger, with a grippable black handle and a serrated shining silver blade, and hit the heart bullseye.

Just as I go over to get another knife, I am tickled ferociously from behind.

"HEY!" I squeak. "Cato, cut it out, I'm gonna-"

"Ok, fine. But seriously, Satan wants you to teach me to throw knives." He says.

I spend an hour doing that, but to no avail. He is hopeless.

"Now I need to teach you swords, so says the devil." He says, referring to Satan, our head trainer.

So another hour is spent there, but I actually am ok.

"No fair." He says, sounding like a three year old having a tantrum. "I can't throw those tiny stupid knives, but you can swing a sword?"

I pin him up against the wall, hands around his neck.

"Those tiny stupid knives are what might just save our lives. Never disrespect my knives again, you hear?" I growl menacingly.

"Ok, tiger, sorry. Didn't mean to strike a nerve." He says, clutching his sore neck.

"But how are you that strong? You're thin as a pin yet you can pin ME up against a wall?"

"Let's say hunting taught me a lot."

Hi! BookWormCandamio here!
That was the first chapter! What do you think?
Next chapter will be up to that point, but in Cato's point of view and written by TylerNewsomHilton.
Did I do ok? I don't know, but it was fun to write as the bad guy!
Please share this account with your friends, as we are unheard of!
Stay awesome,
Clove. X