Tributes Of District 2- Cato and Clove

Before

Chapter 1- Before

I own NOTHING!!!! All rights go to Suzane Collins.

District 2

Cato's POV

"NO!" I screamed. "NO! NO! No, Catrina! No!"

I escaped my mother's grasp and stumbled my way over to my older sister, and when I finally reached the large stage, I ran for my sister, Catrina, where she stood, deathly still, watching me with horrified eyes.

 "Don't go, Catrina! Don't go!" I cried.

"Cato, let go of me!" My sister hissed, and shoved me off of her, sending me tumbling.

"Catrina- no!" Against my best efforts I began to cry, and couldn't even try to struggle against the wave of the Peacekeepers that carried me back to my mother.

My mother, the woman whom people had claimed that they had seen tear down large chunks of rock single-handedly. Which, isn't necessarily a bad thing, in a district who based their living on masonry. She was pushing 6 feet, wore no make-up, was buffer than the average man, had untamed blond hair, was in absolutely no way gentle, and didn't have a single maternal bone in her body. But, when she wrapped me in an embrace, nothing had ever comforted me more. 

"Shh, it's okay, Cato, it's okay," she gently stroked my blond spikey hair, careful not to pat it down. "It's okay, Cato."

"Why, Mom, why? Why did she-" a sob broke my voice. "Why'd she volunteer? Doesn't she like us?"

My mom looked me in the eyes, and whispered seriously, "One day, Cato, you'll understand. It's her duty. Just like it was once mine, and will be yours in a couple of years."

"Mom, I'm only 8," I used my soft sleeve to wipe my eyes. 

She opened her mouth to say something, but hesitated, then said, "I'm taking you home," then she picked me up and carried me home. When we got inside, she set me down on his bed, and ruffled my hair, much to my outrage.

"Now you stay here until I get back," she commanded me softly. 

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Back to the Reaping. Your siblings are still there," she said in one of those "I'm-not-allowed-to-show-favoritism"  voices.

"But-" I called, but she was already out the door.

I sighed, and the second I heard the sound of the door lock, I hopped off of the bed, and walked into the kitchen. 

Glancing around curiously, I stood on tip-toe to reach the cupboard that held the bottles of water. I grabbed a bottle cautiously, then, while looking around slowly, warily opened the top, and gulped the whole bottle down. I replaced the cap carefully, and placed the -now empty- bottle in the back of the cupboard.

I stepped down, but as I did so, my sleeve caught on the handle to a drawer that I'd never seen opened before. 

As it slid open, I gasped as I saw what it contained.

There's a really sharp knife, a little voice in my head said.

Suddenly, a memory overcame me, and I remembered how my older brother Cathal had shown Catrina how to use a throwing knife.

"Grip it tightly, but not too tight," Cathal had instructed.

"Now let it rest evenly in your grip. For a boomerang shot, stand sideways to your target. Have the flat-side of the blade tilting upward a little more, edge out, next, take your knife-arm and touch the elbow to your stomach, but have the arm out from you."