TWO

Chapter Fifteen

Under the bandage on my hand is stitches. The medic said the wound is still too raw for the ointment, which I disagree with. Everytime I wiggle my fingers I feel like I'm yanking out the stitches. Paris left the hospital with a broken nose all bandaged up, Marcus has a strained neck, and Cato's shoulder was dislocated. He also has a few cuts from the glass, but they were easily healed with the ointment I was refused.

My dad still hasn't been home since the accident. I found out it was him when Cato told me. At first I was angry, especially because my dad was drunk, but now I'm just wishing he would've killed me. With two weeks till the reaping, I'm hoping something comes up and says, "Surprise Clove! You don't get to die in the arena. Instead, you die now!"

I know what my promise to Cato meant. It means he will be the victor. He gets the crown, the money, the freedom, and I get to be buried six feet under. I can't help but feel like the decision was wrong of me, but after the death of my mother and with the assumption my dad won't be coming home any time soon, it feels some what right.

Since I've been alone for the past couple of days, I haven't gone to school. My teachers are well aware of my mother's passing-- plus my father's arrest-- so Paris has been dropping off homework for me every other day. I go to training still because it helps eases my brain and interrupts the depressing sad thoughts that have been reoccurring too much lately. Atticus has been leaving me alone during training however, which I'm thankful for. Being alone is something I've grown used to and learned to appreciate. 

Cato and I haven't talked either. The closer we get to the games, the more I am distancing myself from him. I do care about him and that scares me. Whenever I think about the possibility of him dying in the games, my stomach knots up. It's a scary feeling, not knowing what the other districts may have up their sleeves. Who knows? Maybe District Four has another Finnick Odair waiting to leech his way to the crown.

Marcus stops by my house every now and then just to check on me. He sometimes stays a little bit to help me copy notes I missed in certain classes. The only difference is our teachers, but the material remains the same. He doesn't bother giving me notes from our plant class, since half the material I already know. However, Paris and Marcus said Mr. Ray has been lecturing them on poisonous plants because rumors of a tropical arena have been spreading across the district. At least I know how to swim.

Right now I'm sitting on the couch staring at a blank TV screen sipping on the tea my mother usually made. The house is cold and so am I, despite the blanket covering me. I should be in school, but my shoulder aches and so does my brain from over thinking. As I'm about to take another sip of the warm mango flavored tea, there's a knock on my front door. Figuring it's Paris coming over to drop something off, I call out, "Come in!" but no one walks in.

I groan as I sit up, shivering as my feet pad across the cold wooden floor pannels. When I swing open the front door, Mr. Thomson is waiting outside next to two Peacekeepers. I immediately tense up, expecting bad news, "What do you want?" I spit.

Mr. Thomson smiles down at me, his teeth have gotten stained yellow from all the wine he must be drinking now that he's in office. His grey hair is much more prominent so you can tell how stressful the position must be for him, especially with the games getting closer. "I was just curious if you were home or not." he hums.

"Well I am." I cross my arms, still hardly opening my door all the way.

"I need to check some things out, do you mind if we come inside?"

"What do you need to check out?" I ask. Mr. Thomson rubs his scruff before shoving by me. One Peacekeeper follows, while the other grabs my arm, "Hey! You can't just fucking barge in here like you own the damn place!" I hollar.