Welcome to Panem

Chapter 6

Johanna POV

"Jo, get your ass down here we're leaving," calls my older brother in a gruff tone. Huffing, I pull my hair up into a messy bun. It doesn't look perfect, but hey - it is called a messy bun. A furry crimson cat strolls in slyly, crawling into my lap. "Thunder, I need to go now," I whisper, stroking his fur. It's a bit of an odd name - thunder - considering it's a ginger cat. But it doesn't matter, I still love him to bits. You could take me for not really an animal person, but I love animals. Every single one of them. "Jo! I'm bloody leaving right this second," shouts Sam, clearly aggravated. And he's not joking. I hear the unmistakeable sound of the engine spluttering to a start. The thing's pretty ancient so I guess it buys me time to grab a banana on my way out. To be honest, I'm not really a breakfast person; more of a snack person. I could snack all day and not get full, yet people wonder why I eat nothing at meals. Clove, on the other hand, eats practically nothing. I don't understand how she does it. Whenever we go out for lunch to maccies or something she'll take like two minuscule bites out of her burger and then claim she's full. Cato ends up forcing food down her - it's hilarious. They're so cute together, you can tell they really care about each other. Speaking of the devil, I'm kinda pissed he gets a whole day off because of a basketball game. Yeah, I get it's a pretty big game - Cato hasn't shut up about it for the last month. He's seems genuinely nervous, it's odd - Cato never really gets scared. I guess it's pressure, likely from his dad. We've never really spoke about it but I can tell Cato and his dad don't get along. He can't stand even the slightest mention of him, exactly the same as Clove. But I guess none of us really have the greatest of relationships with our parents. Most of them are peacekeepers or in some type of profession which revolves around the games. And we all despise the games. I just simply don't understand it. What is the point in throwing 24 kids age 12-18 in a deadly arena resulting in certain death for 23 of them. And to make things worse the capitol people make a thing of it being "something to look forward to." They have tours of the sites so people can come along and tour previous arenas and see where the unfortunate children lost their lives for no apparent reason. They claim it was because of some war - to show people the capitol have significant power over everyone else. It's bloody ridiculous and horrible. Each and every year we have to watch all of it: the reaping – innocent kids being pulled out from the daunting glass bowl. Petrified. Worried. Doomed. When they get dressed up all pretty and then go into training. I'm so thankful I won't have to go into them. Lucky for us at Panem High, we live in the Capitol and our parents have significantly important jobs which results in us not having to participate in the games. It's good enough I guess, but it doesn't draw away the daunting anxiety the day prior to the reaping. I still have friends and family back at my district; what is they were to get reaped? Speaking of the games, they're coming up quite soon actually. This year Clove claimed her dad is possibly in line to be the head game-maker. Which she clearly despised the idea of, she warned us it would be the most brutal games of all times. And I take her word for it – her dad never seemed like the warmest of people. And if she doesn't like him well, I don't like him. The roaring of the engine comes to a halt, and I rush out the door, fumbling to lock it. As I turn around to head for the car, it takes off, speeding away. "Later Jo!" Calls Sam, mockingly. I hate him. Running my fingers through my hair, I sigh, pondering whether to just bunk off school. "Johanna!" Calls a sweet voice which I recognise instantly. I spot her walking along, hand in hand with Cato, dressed in black wash jeans and a light grey sweater which isn't hers. I bet you I know who's it is. "Hey Clove, wow Cato you actually got out of bed?" I mock, teasingly. He smirks, wrapping his arm around Clove, "Well this little one practically dragged me here," he replies, resulting in a fake look of annoyance from Clove. "Did not," she laughs, playfully shoving his arm. He places his arm back and she sighs although I know she loves it, as she leans onto his shoulder. Gross. I don't understand the boyfriend and girlfriend stuff – I'm a single pringle and it better damn well stay that way. We stroll to school at a snail's pace and I'm surprised we're not late, the whole time spent joking and clove trying to convince Cato to actually come into school. After some sappy persuasion, she wins the argument – Cato really does adore her. He attempts to act irritated but it just ends in us all practically in tears with laughter. As we approach the school lockers, he sighs, shooting Clove looks. She can't help but giggle every time. Wow I really am lucky to have such fun friends. Especially Clove, I'm pretty sure she's the light in a lot of people's lives.