Love and War (A Clove and Cato FanFic)

Chapter Two: A Flashback

Everyone started applauding and then I knew that Cato and I would have to shake hands. I turned to him and out-stretched my hand, while he did the same. His hand was warm on mine and just being able to touch him made this whole situation a lot better. I knew Cato would protect me from any harm even though I didn’t need it. I’ve been training for the past eight years. I started training when I was eight years old and I’ve always had a liking for knives. I’m drawn to them like a moth to a flame.  Now I was worried about the gamemakers not having any knives in the arena. That was a stupid thing to worry about.

                We were whisked away by the camera crews and other people, into the Justice Building, where we would have three minutes to say our goodbyes to our loved ones. I knew Cato would have his mother and two sisters come see him, but I didn’t know of anybody else who would see him. He wasn’t a social person, but he did have some friends. They probably wouldn’t come to see him though.  

                I know that only my mother will come and see me. We might exchange few words about how I’ll make it home and then she’ll sit there and wait until the Peacekeepers come to tell her that the three minutes are up and then we’ll hug, while she fights back tears in hope that her only child left will come home alive. 

                The Peacekeepers shove my mother into the room and she stumbles and almost falls. I quickly get up from the satin couch and catch her. She mumbles a thank you and she takes the seat across from me. “Clove-“

                “Mother, I will win. I’m not going to be Pine or Alik. I’m going to be the victor of the seventy-fourth hunger games. And if I don’t win, then Cato will and he’ll help you out. I promise.”

                “Clove, honey. I’ve been alive for a long time. Fifty-seven years exactly. You start to know when your life is only getting worse. I’ve lived full life and you don’t need to win for me.”

                “Mother, don’t be silly. I will win and I will bring home the victory. No matter what.” She was just about to say something back, but the Peacekeepers came and told her, her time was up. The last thing I heard before the door closed was “I love you.”

                My mother had never told me “I love you.” I actually thought she didn’t love me. That was the only time that she’s ever said it to any of us. I guess she never had a reason. We were always bad to her, I guess. Pine ran away from home once only to be caught by Peacekeepers. I laughed when they knocked on our door and they had Pine in rusted, old handcuffs. Usually, this is punished by death, but everyone felt sorry for us, which I hated, because my father was a mason and he was some-what rich. He approved of my mom to be his bride, and then told her that they were going to have four children whether she liked it or not. Well, one came, two came, and then me.

                One night, when I was 6, I was walking down a hall to find mother and father. They were in the room next to Pine’s so he could probably hear everything they said. I didn’t think he was lucky back then, but know that I think about it, he was. So, I was walking and I had just reached the door they were behind. It was ajar and I slightly opened it a bit more, just far enough so it wouldn’t squeak. Then I heard an ear-piercing scream. I opened the door a bit farther, just enough to see mother on the ground and father above her with a broken vase in his hands. I knew I gasped, but everything was moving in slow motion. I was barely aware of the strong arms of Pine wrapping around my little 6 year old waist. I only saw was the blood on mother’s head. Little glass shards littered the floor.  Pine carried me into his room and sat me on his bed. “Pine,” I whispered in a baby voice. “What happened to mommy?” He didn’t answer me though. He just sat there and looked at the wall.  “Pine! Say something!!” He looked at me and said four words: “Don’t tell the Peacekeepers.”

                Those four words have always rang in my head like a warning bell.  I knew Pine would kill me if I told the Peacekeepers about Mother and Father, but the older I got the more I noticed how miserable Mother was. So one day, while Pine was out on an errand run, I ran to the closest Peacekeeper in sight and told him everything. He listened closely and stayed quiet until the end. Then he started asking me questions like “How long ago did this happen?” and “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” I gave them the honest answer and if Pine was going to kill me, he could go ahead and do it. Mother didn’t deserve to be treated like that. So, the next day, the mayor called a meeting in the town square. He asked my Father to come up and I guess he had no idea what it was for. No one did but me. “Mr. Summers, would you like to tell everyone why you’re here?” He looked confused.

                “No because I don’t even know why I’m here. So why don’t you tell me why I’m here.”  He looked over at us, my Mother smiled, my brother looked at his shoes, but I glared at him. I wanted to spit in his face. He rip his arms from their sockets leave him there, let him die a slow and painful death. The mayor shook his head.

                “Ladies and gentlemen, you think of Mr. Summers as a person you can trust, a person who you want to confide in. Well, I’m afraid he is not anymore.  I’ve had an anonymous person tell me about how cruel Mr. Summers is to his family. He beats his wife. I bet you didn’t know that. Yes, we have eyewitnesses of him throwing vases at her. Yes, the man you know and trust has become a traitor. So we have made a decision that this is only punishable by death.” Father’s face is as white as a bed sheet. The mayor motions a Peacekeeper forward and he points the gun at Father’s chest. Three, two, one, the gun goes off and Father crumples to the ground.

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Sorry I haven't updated. I should be updating more cause this story almost all written already. I've had it wrote since May. I would LOVE feedback about it. Is it good? Is it bad? My friends said it was like Susanne Collins was writing it, but i would love your Feedback. So if you have any friends that like The Hunger Games, please tell them about my FanFic. :)

Love,

Christina