The Tributes of District 2 (Editing Over SUMMER)

Okay. I've decided to use a time line similar to Suzanne Collins, but from Cato's Point of view... I think I may have 2 chapters at some points in the beginning and end because this story will be from both Cato and Clove's point of view. Hope you guys enjoy :)

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--Cato's Point of View--

The sun slowly rises over the horizon and I am already out for my daily run. The air is chilly but that doesn't stop me. I quickly swerve around an old lady carrying a yappy little chihuahua, that little mouse is lucky I didn't snap it's scrawny little neck.

I decide that I can't run as long as I usually do this morning, considering that today is the day of the reaping. I feel almost sorry for whoever may be chosen this year as Tribute, but that doesn't really matter taking in the fact that District 2 has won the Hunger Games for the past 8 years in a row.

I stop at a drinking fountain that had noticeably been refurbished. The water is clear and cold and slides down my throat easily. I have heard rumors that there are some districts that don't even have paved streets or clean drinking water. I chuckle at my silly little imagination. All districts are the same: well paved streets, warm homes, children running around all day long without a care in the world.

My district, of corse, is better off than others. We are one of the Capital's, I mean President Snow's, favorite districts. He told us so when he came to visit our Mayor Fredrick last month. President Snow doesn't lie.

I start my jog again, only this time back home to my home. I pass a Peacekeeper on the way.

"Hey Ragtail!" I call happily realizing that this particular Peacekeeper is one of the nicer ones' around here.

"Hey Cato, beautiful day isn't it, a great one for the reaping don't you think?" Ragtail is one of those big supporters of the Hunger Games. He gets to see them from the front row in the capital every year. A fight to the death on live television? What Peacekeeper wouldn't want to see that in up close HD?

"Yes, I have high hopes for whoever volunteers this year, if we win it'll be the Ninth year in a row!" Around here you have to watch what you say, there are hidden cameras everywhere, even rumors about how there are invisible silent hovercrafts flying around us 24/7.

"Well, you best be gettin' ready for the reaping, you gotta look good for the people!" he says as he trots off looking for the nearest meat house.

I quickly make my way home and throw my jacket on the plush leather couch seated by mother who sits quietly in her rocking chair, "hey sweetie, how was your run?" she looks at me with a small smile crossing her face.

"Good, I ran about four miles today. I saw Ragtail as well, he seemed pretty excited about today. He can't wait to place his bids," I say as I grab a small pack of dehydrated vegetables out of the pantry. I have to stay healthy, the Football tryouts are next week.

My mother's smile vanishes with the mentioning that the reaping is today. She never liked the Hunger Games. I could just picture her as a young girl being terrified that her name would be called. Her older brother's name was called in the 56th Hunger Games. He lost.

I couldn't imagine her face if mine or Jayne's name was called. Jayne, my little brother who just turned 16 last week.

Jayne and I never have to sign up for tesserae, the supply of oil and grain that you get for entering your name in the reaping ball more than the amount of times for each year. I only have 7 entries in the reaping ball considering I'm 18 this year.

Jayne runs into the room and almost falls flat on his face tripping over one of our father's old shoes that he's always leaving around the house.

"Cato!" he hides behind me like a scared 6 year old.

"I'm gonna get you for that Jayne!" I can hear my father's deep voice from down the hall. His heavy steps indicate that he's madder than a cat after a cold shower.

"Oh, Jayne what did you do now?" I whisper quietly to my brother

"I -- I -- I accidentally stepped on his foot. I swear I didn't mean to, it was his fault for not getting out of my room and tripping me in the process," his eyes are almost teary with fear.

My dad slowly enters the room and looking around as if stalking his prey. My dad. The winner of the 60th Hunger Games knows everything there is to know about hunting. He killed a total of 18 out of the 24 tributes that year, "Jayne, come out come out wherever you are..."