Sorry for the slow updates! I have a lot going on right now so bear with me.
I wake up with my muscles aching from another cold night curled up on the floor. Judging by the sky, it should be about 6am, leaving me with enough time to get in some throwing practise before training. Training is more important than ever now. What with the exam looming in two weeks time, and the volunteer choosing ceremony, I can't afford to slack off. I am going to the hunger games and nothing can stop me.... I stretch to try and relieve the pain in my stiff muscles, then pull some clothes on; my regulation training centre leggings and the tight T-shirt and trainers that come with it. They are all high tech gear designed to keep me cool and let my skin breathe during summer, and to keep in the warmth and preserve my body heat during winter. Everything is black, with the district 2 logo and 'TRAINEE' printed on the side in blood red. Aside from my knives, (which I managed to persuade one of my "favourite" trainers to lend me) they are the most precious things I own. The fabric feels like smooth silk against my skin as I slip outside to the target range I set up in the woods.
After about an hour of throwing, I realise my hunger and remember that we have no food at the house. I slip my knives into the loops around the waistband of my leggings and break into a run rubbing my goose-pimpled arms to warm them up from the harsh morning air. I don't have much time if I want to make it to training by half eight. Getting food is one of the hardest parts of my life. I usually head to market and scavenge on the floor for any dropped goods. Sometimes people give me a morsel or two, but mostly they just shake their heads and walk away. Today the market is teeming with people, which are the best days for me as stall holders don't pay as much attention to what they drop. I've barely been there for two minutes when I hear the faint thud of something landing on the ground. I quickly dive under a stand before anyone notices, just n time to see a HUGE bread roll about to roll into the gutter. I snatch it up and smell it hungrily. It is still warm. I wait around for a little while longer, bagging myself a bruised apple, a slither of old cheese and small rubber band. I head to training with a huge smile on my face. I definitely won't be hungry tonight!
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Never Coming Home
FanfictionA Clato Fan-fiction In the hunger games Katniss and Peeta were the star crossed lovers from district twelve, but were they the only ones? This is a story about how Cato and Clove met and became unlikely lovers. It is mostly written from Clove's POV...
