They Call Me a Career-a Clove fanfic

the Games;day 7

The next day goes on as usual. I awaken before everyone else, I eat and prep. Yet it feels a little more empty. I know we have just as many people here as we have for the past few days, but Glimmer's death has left me at a loss. I try to think of what I could have done to help her, but I know nothing would have helped. I play it over and over, her screams, her clawing at me. I didn't realize she did that until the memory caught up with me at dawn.

I blink in frustration, trying squeeze the stinging from my eyes. I don't know why it's there, but it's making me angry. I just blow it off, assuming that it's just an after effect of the stings. I was too busy crying yesterday, I probably didn't realize it. I was a fool. Weak.

I remember my weakness as I close my eyes and bask against the wall of the Cornucopia. The steel delves into my head, and gives me a clear thought process. I know that I am in... Eighth? I am one of the top eight?

I tense up in my sitting position. I made it to eighth, and I was acting like a fool. No. This has got to stop. If I can get into the top eight with all of these crazy emotions running through my head, then I can definitely win once I figure out how to stop this.

I pull myself together, getting a little but to eat. I bop and weave through the path that District Three showed me. He even went through it himself, showing me that it wouldn't kill me, as my earlier skepticism proved a minor setback. As I scavenge through our rations out in our pile, I find the berries that Cato gave Marvel. I hate him for what he did to Marvel that night. I walk back to the mouth of the Cornucopia an lean against the frame. I sit there smoldering for a small second. That makes this a little easier.

The second the word easy runs through my head, I remember my father, sitting next to me at my bedside. I was only about nine, and he had already filled my young mind with the distant pleasures of bloodlust. One night begins to stick out in my mind, and I am suddenly in a trans...

... "Father? What did the trumpets sound like when you won? Were they loud?"

My father looked at me with a small chuckle, moving the smaller tendrils of my hair out of my eyes. "Indeed they were, my lovely child. Thy were louder than anything I had ever heard. It wasn't just that they were loud, though. They symbolized my perseverance."

I can remember looking at him with a crooked curiosity. "What is perseverance?"

He looked up at the ceiling. The only time I ever saw him look up from something other than out of anger. It was the only time I ever saw him think about anything. He sucks a breath in and smiles at me. "It's sticking with what you do, even though it's never easy. I can assure you this: never once, in your life, will anything worth anything come easily. It may come naturally to you, but there will always be challenges."

My crooked look became an even toned stare. "Does that mean that everything will be hard?"

"A lot of things will. Yet I can promise you, that once the hard part is over, it will be entirely worth it. And the harder the challenge, the more worth it the outcome will be. I know, Clove, that you will do big things, and you of all people, will face more challenge than anyone else in Panem." His tone became very serious at that moment.

"But I'll be the most worth it!" I cheered out with a bubbly child's laugh.

My father laughs and cupped my cheek in his hand. It laid, big and warm, against my face.

"Yes... Yes you will." ...

I snap out of it when I feel someone come up behind me and grab me. I whip around, pulling out my Glimmer knife, and nail my assailant against the wall of the Cornucopia, knife to throat.