Together ~ A Clove and Cato story ~

Chapter two (Cloves POV): A Punch to the Nose

                     I pace down the hallway of school, keeping my eyes trained on the floor so that I don't have to interact with anybody, and even though I understand how standoffish that seems. I am not paying as much attention to where I am going as I probably should be, so I end up slamming directly into the chest of a boy.

                      "Watch it, shortie!" He growls. He is a good foot and a half lankier than me therefore, he towers over my short frame, and even though he has barely said anything to me, simply the way that he's standing a head above of me, I can tell that he is automatically challenging me.

                      "I think you should have to give him something to show that you are truly sorry," A girl beside him drawls. I recognize her as the mousy girl from my first class this morning. Great. Now I have to deal with both of them.

                      "How about your lunch?" The boy snarls at me, his eyes narrow and teasing as they drink in every bit of me.

                       "No." I assert, my voice fighting to remain steady. I try to sidestep the boy and stalk away, but he trips me, causing me to slip and smack my head on the ground. A headache flares up in the back of my skull, sending shudders through my body, and my ankle stings where it was twisted beneath me.

                      "Do want to know what happens to people when they say no to me?" I cross my arms protectively over my skinny middle to safeguard my body. I kick at them, but they avoid my legs with ease, laughing as my attempts at self-defense come off as nothing but pathetic to them. The girl pins my shoulders to the ground, and the boy stamps his foot down abruptly on my nose. A shriek escapes my lips, my tough-girl facade breaking as agony strikes me. The pain in my nose is immediate and awful. I cup my nose in my hands, putting pressure on the bone and trying to block the blood flow. When I pull my palms from my face, they're soaked with my ruby-colored blood and shaking violently. But now, I realize my mistake. My arms are no longer protecting me. But by the time the revelation hits me, it's too late. The boy has already booted me hard in the middle. I moan and roll onto my side, my stomach throbbing and queasy. I taste the blood on my tongue, and with a sick realization, I realize the rusty-colored fluid had trickled from my nose into my mouth. I am defenseless. I close my eyes and await the next blow, understanding that I am too weak to do much of anything to defend myself, but it doesn't come. I open my eyes and am surprised to see the blonde boy from the halls earlier. The one that I couldn't stop thinking about for no specific reason. He has managed to wrestle the two kids away from me and has knocked the girl in the mouth. The two bullies share a look before bolting down the hallway. The boy crouches down next to me, his blue eyes narrowed in concern as he takes in my crumpled form.

                     "Are you all right?" He interrogates, gently taking one of my blood-covered hands and helping me sit up. He pulls his sleeve over his hand and begins to wipe away some of the blood from my nose, my lips, my chin.

                     "Yes." My voice cracks, and a single tear slides down my cheek. I never cry. I was known at my old school for my performance as an emotionally retarded girl. But right now, I can't help myself. The physical and emotional pain too much to hold inside.

                     "It's Clove, right? I'm Cato" He states. "Can you stand?" He helps me stand up, and I instantly collapse into him. My ankle gives out with a stab of pain, and I'm woozy from hitting my head and the blood loss. Black spots dance across my vision, and Cato catches me as I fall. "I have to bring you to the infirmary. Don't worry, I can carry you."

                     He is a good foot taller, about a year or two older, and most likely, a whole lot stronger than me. He scoops me up in his arms, holding me as if I weigh nothing but five pounds, and starts down the hallway. My legs dangle over his arms, and I wrap my spindly arms around his neck for support.

                    About five very long and painful minutes later, the world begins to fade around me, little lights exploding behind my eyelids. My head droops onto Cato's shoulder as exhaustion overwhelms me, giving me no choice but to conform to the tiny voice in my head that's calling me to sleep. He must notice that I'm losing consciousness because he begins to walk quicker and quicker, panic clear upon his actions.

                   "Clove," He utters, glancing down at me. "Clove, stay awake, don't pass out on me, please?" I can't respond. Words are too hard right now. "Help me!" He bellows, breaking into a light run. "I need help!" The last thing I see is two women, presumably from the infirmary, and Cato's mouth moving soundlessly before the world goes black.