Cato and Clove. The Unknown Story.

Chapter One

I do not own this story. It is based off of Suzzanne Collin's Hunger Games, I give her full credit for the story line.

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Reaping Day.

That is all that is in my mind today. I get up from my bed and go into my closet. I pick out a nice white button up shirt and some grey pants. My shoes are freshly polished and fit me perfectly. I go downstairs to see if there's anything to eat. When I go to the fridge, I notice a note written in crayon with backwards R's.

Good luck today Cat.

Your little Fendle.

It was written by Fendle, my little brother, only about six years old. I had guessed that my mum and dad had taken him to the Reaping early. I eat an already made sandwich and make my way out the door. I go a couple houses down the block before I stop in front of the one that held the one person I cared about.

Clove.

As if it were on cue, Clove comes out the door in a simple blue dress. Her hair is back in a low bun and she smiles like always. "Hey Cat."

"Hey Clove, how you feeling?" I ask her.

She steps down the stairs and stands beside me, we start walking. "Confident that I won't get picked, but if I do I'll be ready for it." She says. A thought goes through my mind.

What if she is picked?

I couldn't bear it. We had grown up friends but I felt more than that. I look at her and stop walking. "You won't get picked Clove."

"Yeah but what if I do!" she says, "I can make it Cato! I know I can and if I am picked, I will."

I roll my eyes, "Clove," I say holding her shoulders, "you won't get picked. And when you don't, we'll go over to the fence like always, right?" I ask. The fence was the border between District Two and the outside world. Clove and I always go there after a Reaping and we talk about things and tell each other stuff we wouldn't tell another living soul. It became tradition after the first couple of years. I just hope that today would be like all the other years.

"Right," she replies. Clove gives me a genuine smile that could only come from her.

"Come on, we're gonna be late unless we start walking now." I smile back to her. We turn and walk to the Reaping.

We are separated into to lines, Boys and Girls. They prick my finger and take my blood. After that we have to go and stand in a vacant lot in front of the Justice Building. A woman from the Capitol with pale skin and bright green hair comes to the microphone and shows us the clips from District Thirteen and President Snow explaining why we have the Hunger Games. It got boring after hearing it five times. Always the same excuses.

"Now," says the woman, "Ladies first." She walks over to the glass ball and hunts around for a name.

Not Clove.

Not Clove.

"Clover Huntrose!" she squeals and my stomach drops to the floor.

No.

Clove walks up the stairs, looking like she did a few minutes ago, except for her face. She's changed her expresions from sweet and kind, to mean and devilish. Her smirk is only for the cameras though. So the Capitol people know she aims to win.

"Any volunteers?" asks the woman only to hear no reply. "Gentlemen next."

She goes over to the reaping ball and fishes around for the next name. "Garrle Diamet."

Before I know it I shout the words that will change my life. "I volunteer!" Everyone looks at me. I can hear a sigh of relief from the tweleve year old boy that is Garrle Diamet. I make my way up to the microphone.

"That's the spirit!" squeasl the woman. "What is your name young man?"

She turns the microphone to me, "Cato Aulvy," I reply.

"Well then we have our two tributes of District Two!" No cheers erupt from the crowd. Clove and I are lead into the Justice building, soon to be led away to our deaths.