Clove

Prologue

The 74th Hunger Games from Clove's Point of View

Prologue:

When I was just nine years old I watched my older sister get reaped to be in the Hunger Games. Trill Muller. Tears were instantly in my eyes, I had never expected this. My sister was eighteen... I thought she would manage to avoid the games and support our family. 

I was sobbing all throughout our goodbyes. We watched her board the train, tears in her eyes, as well, yet such a brave face. She'd always been so brave.. 

Trill made it all the way to the top three, which is way further than anyone had expected her to make it. But then I watched her death. She died right before my eyes. She was searching desperately for food when the two remaining careers snuck up from behind and tackled her. She fought back for as long as she could, but, being starving, she only lasted a few minutes of the fight. The district 2 boy slit her throat while she was fighting off the boy from district 1. I went for a hug from my parents, but my father sent me to my room for the night. 

After her death my father got into drinking. Every night he would buy beer from the Hob and drink to the point where he would say hostile things. Even after he was sober again he would criticize me every minute about how I wasn't like Trill and why I'm not brave like her. Half of my dinner was thrown away and I was sent to my room because I "didn't deserve" food. Sometimes he would even hit me and punch me. I would always be sore the next morning from bruises he would give me while my mother did nothing about it.  

When I turned ten I wanted nothing to get out of the house and run away. I just wanted to show them that I'm better than they think. That I can succeed and be a fighter like Trill. I knew what I wanted to do. 

"Mom? Dad?" 

"What, you worthless, little baby?" 

"I want to train for the Hunger Games."