Last Chance: A Clato Fanfic

Chapter 4- The Reaping

Sunlight beams through my window and I take that as a sign to get out of bed. It's the morning of the reaping and there is immediately a pit in my stomach.

I wash up and head downstairs to make myself breakfast. I slide two slices of bread into the toaster and my mother comes downstairs to make herself a cup of coffee a few minutes later.

"Are you nervous?" 

I crack and egg over the pan and flatly respond, "I don't know."

My name is only entered in there once. I don't trade name entires for food or anything. Besides, Dixon said have another few years before I turn 18 and I really have to worry.

"Be dressed in an hour we have to head over soon," my mom says as she takes her mug of coffee upstairs.

I eat in unsettling silence. It doesn't matter what I tell myself or how much I assure myself the chances of my name getting picked is one in thousands. 

It is still the reaping and my death certificate feels like it could be printed at any moment today.

I head upstairs to change. My curls are still in tact from last night so I tie my front pieces back with one of my mothers black ribbons and sit in the bath.

I'm careful to not let my hair get wet as I scrub my body clean. After I step out of the bath and dry myself with a towel, I slip into a red dress with sleeves.

My hands tremble a little as I do my makeup. The pit in my stomach remains. 

Don't get me wrong, I have worked to honor my distinct my entire life. I just feel like it's not meant to be this year, I'm not ready yet. 

If I am going to enter the games, I want to feel ready. That is the only way to honor my district.

It's just not my time yet.

I pull on my ankle boots and start my head outside. My feet hit the pavement and I'm greeted by Cassiopeia, Minerva, and Cordelia and we walk together to the center of 2.

Camera crew and peacekeepers line the streets setting up to go live at 10am. Minerva grips Cass's hand tightly, she looks mortified.

The four of walk stride for stride together in silence until Minerva breaks it with a trembling whisper, "Cass, they're not gonna pull my name right?"

"Of course not Min, your name is only entered once remember?" Cass assures her.

Minerva nods hesitantly and keeps walking. Soon enough, we approach the check in desk to get our fingers pricked. We say goodbye to Minerva and she joins the other 12 years up front.

The three of us stand in the middle of the pack with other 16 year olds. While everyone chats, I'm silent. I find my eyes traveling over to the parents section. 

First, I spot Velefina Hadley acting like the mayor, greeting the other adults warmly. All cameras will be on the Hadley's today. 

I spot Mr. & Mrs. DeOxide talking with some parents. They don't have to worry at all today, their kids are in their 20s and were never chosen.

I wonder what it's like to go through the reaping as a parent and not have to worry about whether or not their kids gonna die. Actually- why don't I just ask my parents?

My parents stand in the front rows of the parents chatting as well. They seem unbothered.

I turn back around and face the stage. Our district escort, Tamsynia struts forward and taps the microphone.

"Welcome! Welcome to the 74th Annual Hunger Games Reaping! It is perfectly lovely to be back here in District 2 standing in front of all you. Today, we honor Panem by drawing the names of a young man and young woman to represent District 2 in this years games. But first, we must watch the history of the games and remind ourselves why we are gathered here today!"

The clip they have used since the first games plays: War, terrible war.

As the clip plays, I study Tamsynia. She never fails to overdue her entrance. 

She stands in shimmering gold five inch heels and a navy blue dress sculpted like a Christmas tree. Her neck shines with gold necklaces and gold hoops dangle from her ears. Her blonde hair is the size of a rose bush dotted with gold gemstones.

The video concludes and Tamsynia's voice is back, "Now ladies and gentleman it is time to select this years tributes for District 2!"

The center erupts with cheering, whistling, and clapping. Tamsynia smiles big and I think she thinks the noise is all for her.

"For the ladies!" Tamsynia dips her hand into the big fishbowl sitting on stage and selects a slip of paper.

I notice the knot in my stomach become tighter as I hold my breath. My fingers form into tight fists at my side.

Clove Kentwell Clove Kentwell Clove Kentwell. I repeat my name in my head over and over again so when my name is called I'm not even surprised.

She sashays back to the microphone and reads the name aloud,

"Minerva Opal!"

I release a sigh of relief when I don't hear my name ring over the speaker. But then, it clicks. 

It's not my name. It's Minerva's.

Oh my god.

Cass is standing next to me and I look at her and she stands expressionless. Her mouth is ajar and she doesn't move.

"Cass they called Minerva. What are you gonna do?" Cordelia whisper shouts.

A tear runs down Cass's cheek. My eyes move to the 12's rows and I watch Minerva walk through the row with her head down.

"Cordelia, I-I can't do it. I-I'm just n-not strong enough," she shakes her head sheepishly.

Cordelia's eyes go wide as she gasps, "Cassiopeia you cannot let your 12 year old sister go up against Cato Had-"

"I volunteer," I announce.

I don't scream, but my voice is loud enough for the rows in front of me to turn and look at me and for a cry to break out in the parents' crowd. 

The cry was a cry of relief from no one other than Mrs. Opal.

Making my way through the crowd, I spot Minerva frozen in the path leading to the stage. I offer her a small smile.

Her face and eyes are read and her cheeks are wet with tears. I can't believe I just did that. 

But more than this, I can't believe her own sister wouldn't take her place. I knew Cassiopeia was a weak person, but I didn't know she was that weak.

As I walk, my legs feel like jello. There's a ringing in my ear and my vision is blurry. I can't believe I'm doing what I'm doing but my body is somehow moving.

My steps are heavy and my boots clank up the stairs to the stage. Tamsynia shakes my hand, gives me a warm smile, and congratulates me.

She guides me towards the microphone and says, "We have a volunteer! Name and age?"

She turns the mic to me and I don't hear myself speak but my lips are forming words. The audience claps as Tamsynia makes her way back to the fish bowls to pull a boys name.

"Jet Zircoin!"

A 17 year old boy from my training class steps forward, but Cato quickly volunteers practically running towards the stage. He looks giddy, like a child on Christmas Eve.

Tamsynia has Cato say his name into the mic and then the two of us shake hands. We hold each others gaze for a moment.

My eyes lock with his piercing blue ones. His are frosty and dangerous and her offers me a smirk.

Not a smile, a smirk. Sneaky and arrogant like. Regardless of how much this airhead with muscles bothers me, together, we turn and face the crowd.

"Clove Kentwell and Cato Hadley of District 2!" our names boom on the speakers.

Cato grabs my hand and raises it to the sky. The crowd, of course, loves this gesture and their claps grow louder. Soon enough, the claps fade into a sign of peace. 

The last I see of my district is thousands of people kissing then holding their three fingers to the sky. They do this to offer us love, luck, and respect.