Chapter 6

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Hey guys. I'm changing the way my story is going. I don't want to write another games because that's what I didn't like about Catching Fire. So I'm fast forwarding a few years. I hope you don't mind guys! Thanks!
-Olivia! 😝
Three years later!
-Clove POV-
When I wake up in the morning I feel something coming up from my stomach. I sprint to the bathroom and throw up in the toilet. I wash my mouth and put in a mint. That was odd. I walk over to bed and wake up Cato who is now nineteen.
"Hey baby?" I shake him.
His eyes flutter open and he smiles,"Whats wrong Clover? Your pale."
He sits up gesturing for me to sit on his lap. I gratefully do and hug him tight.
"I just got sick. I'm fine now. I just wanted you awake." I kiss his cheek and walk downstairs.
"Good morning, Summer." I say.
"Hello ,Clove." Summer greets me.
"Do you mind if I go out today? Thomas wants to take me out to shop." She asks.
"I don't mind. Cato, Elm, and I can have a day at the park." I respond.
"Thanks, Clove." She gives me a hug.
"Hey, no need to thank me. Your an adult. If you want to go out you should go out." I giggle.
Cato comes down the stairs and I tell what the plan is for today. He says alright and continues with the waffles he's making. He piles them high on a plate and places them on the table. I pull out the syrup for everyone to use. Elm comes down in her Cinderella nightgown rubbing her eyes.
"Hey baby!" I exclaim.
" Hey Momma. Hi Papa. Hello Summer." She replies sleepily.
She takes a seat in her hight chair. I love being called Momma. It was awkward at first. I wanted her to call me Clove, but every time I tried to get her to say it she would shake her head furiously and say Momma.
"Do you want to go to the park today?" I ask.
Her face lights up and she nods her head. I kiss her cheek then put a waffle on her plate. She reaches for the syrup but Cato pulls it away.
" Hey!" She pouts.
"You always pour too much." Cato says. He drizzles syrup over her waffle then puts a small puddle in the middle. She doesn't say anything. She picks up a knife and chucks it at the wall. It doesn't go in the walk because I catch the handle.
"ELM ELIZABETH HADLEY!" I scream.
"How dare you do that! Go to your room. Now." Cato demands.
She screams as if the knife went into her then slams her feet on the ground and stomps upstairs.
I can not believe that just happened. She's just nit having a good day, I assure myself. I sight then walk upstairs to her room. I try to open it but she locked it. I jump up and grab the key from above the door. Still a shorty, I whisper think. I unlock the door and walk in.
"Hey baby. Can you tell Mommy why you threw that knife?" I ask sweetly.
She looks up at me with red puffy eyes,"I got mad."
"Your can't take your anger out with violence." I say.
"Mommy, I'm sorry." Elm apologizes.
"Alright baby. You can't do that anymore. Okay?" I reply.
"Okay."
(TFIOS MOMENT!!!!!!!)
When we get to the park Elm runs to the swings. Cato and I follow her happily. She jumps on the swing and yells,"Papa push me."
Cato giggle and walks over to her and start to push her.
"Higher! Higher!" She giggles.
Cato pushes her higher and she laughs really loud.
"I'm flying!" She yells.
When she's had enough of the swings she goes over to the monkey bars. For a three year old she does pretty well. She still put one hand on one bar then the other hand in the same bar. When she's done she jumps down. She sprints to the "pushy thing" as Elm calls it. I lift her up and she latches her hand on the bar. I pushed her and she goes rushing to the other side. When she gets there she swings back over to us. She drops down put I catch her before she lands on the ground.
"Hey. Why'd cha catch me?" She giggles.
"It's a high drop." I inform her.
"If I'm going to have to go to the Hunger Games then you need to let me do things like that."
I frown,"Why do you think your going in the games? Cato asks.
"I'm just saying." She shrugs it off and goes to sit at a picnic table where we placed our lunch bag.
I pull out the sandwiches and hand everyone one.
"Why are you assuming your going in the games baby girl?" I ask.
"You guys did." She responds innocently.
"That doesn't mean you will." Cato explains.
She sighs. She mumbles something that I couldn't quite catch.
"What was that, Elm?"
"Maybe I want to go in the games."
That night I after I tuck Elm in, I lay in bed thinking about our trip to the park. After she watches the games this year, we are letting her watch this year, she will change her mind.
I hope.

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