Soooo, I'm a big fan of The Hunger Games, and thought doing a fan-fic from a different tribute's point of view could be pretty cool... So, if you've read The Hunger Games you will know Clove as being the girl who nearly killed Katniss at the Cornucopia. I wondered what it'd be like to see things from her point of view.
Enjoy. :)
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I wake up, and immediately I know what day it is. It's reaping day. Today, I could be seeing my family for the last time. I felt a surge of panic rip through me, but I showed nothing of the emotion. I'm from district 2, so I train for The Hunger Games through school. I think other districts who don't do this call us 'Career tributes'. In my opinion they look weak when in the arena. However, I know that if I am picked, that I will probably have a volunteer to take my place. I shouldn't feel the relief that I do feel at that thought, but I've never been quite like the others.
I prop myself up against my thin pillow and pull the thin blanket I share with my sister up around my neck. I looked down at her. She looked so peaceful, with her dark hair splayed over her pillow. I smiled a little, but the idea of never seeing her again was a lot to take in. It is to be my third time in the reaping, and my name was only to be entered thrice. Closing my eyes, I think about what my strategy would be, if I were to be reaped.
I think I would follow the tradition that all other district 2 tributes have followed; to stick with the tributes from 1 and 4, plus the male from 2. Finish off as many others as I could at the Cornucopia, then collect weapons and supplies and hang out near the lake.
My thoughts were interrupted by mother waking up. She always groaned and stretched, and usually her hair stuck out at a weird angle above her ear. Slowly, I opened my eyes and looked over to her.
"Reaping day" I say, watching her closely to gauge her reaction.
She looked round at me slowly, then a faint ghost of a smile flickered over her lips, but concern filled her eyes. "You'll be okay"
I smiled a little, then shook my sisters shoulder. She squeezed her eyes shut then opened them, looking up to me. My smile faltered; it was to be her first reaping day.
"What?" Skye asked, her eyes showing her confusion. I needed to stop seeing people's feelings in their eyes, it could be my downfall.
"Nothing" I told her, averting my gaze. I slid out of our bed and padded over the cold wood floor. Today I wouldn't stay at home with my families like everyone else, I'm going to go and sit in the meadow until it's time to get ready for the reaping.
I slipped on my favourite training shirt and some tight trousers, then pulled on some simple leather boots I had bartered for in the market. I took a little chunk of bread from the loaf in the cupboard before leaving.
I walk down the cobbled road, and look up at the grey sky with bits of blue showing through. Panem looked miserable today. My meadow wouldn't be as good as usual.
I walk down the tiny gap between the Mayors house and the blacksmiths, my elbows scraping the walls. I can see the grass at the end, and I feel at ease when I reach it. I sit with my back against the blacksmiths wall, and I can hear only silence. Confirmation that it really is reaping day. No one ever does work, except in the markets, on reaping day. People spend time with their families in case one of them is chosen. I pick a flower, a daisy I think, and pick the petals off and poke holes through the stem with my nails. Once that one is completely mutilated, I pick another, and another, and another. I destroy each one I pick up.
This is how I must be if I am picked for The Hunger Games. Ruthless. I should see my opponents as mere flowers. But with any hope I won't be picked.
