I'll Call Your Name (A District 2 FanFiction)
Cato and Clove have always been my favorite characters in the Hunger Games, so I decided to write a FanFiction about them. This FanFiction will be told in third person, but it will focus mainly on Cato and Clove. If you're looking for a story filled with romance, this is NOT it. This will mainly stick to the book and partially to the movie!
Read, comment, and rate!
Clove Havenbel's eyes fluttered open to find herself laying on the cold, wooden floor.
Beams of light seeped through the cracks of the long drapes that covered her window, letting Clove know that morning had come. Books and loose papers lay scattered across her room. She'd never quite cared enough to even think about organizing her room, not that she had time to anyways.
Clove got to her feet, then groggily stumbled back to her familiar bed. She pulled the blanket up to her shoulders, nearly covering her entire shivering body that was invaded by goosebumps. Almost immediately, her entire body was filled with warmth.
She could have stayed like that forever, wrapped in the warm, comfy quilt that her mother had sewn for her in the winter so many years before. But once she was awake, there was no going back to sleep.
Everytime she'd tried to fall asleep, desperate for thoughtless dreams, she'd end up finding herself wide awake and staring at the spotless ceiling above her.
Clove sghed, knowing it was no use trying.
She slipped out from under the soft blankets, then tip-toed down the hallway, knowing the rest of her family was surely still alseep.
Clove trudged down the steep staircase and into the small kitchen to find a small note resting on the hard, granite counter-top.
We knew you'd be up early today, so enjoy the cheesecake we took the time to make you.
Mom and Dad
Clove was only slightly surprised that her older sister, Arbor was still sound asleep upstairs without a worry in her mind.
Was she sound asleep? Probably was, Clove decided.
A gust of cold air brushed against Clove softly as she opened the large refrigerator, interrupting her casual thoughts about her sister.
There, in the center of the refrigerator, sat the poorly made cheesecake. She placed it carefully on the kitchen counter, barely having to lean over to eat it.
She picked at it with her fork, forcing it bites of the cheesecake down her throat for her parents' sake.
Of course they had made her a cheesecake this year.
Sure, it was Reaping Day.
But that was not all.
Pressured by her parents, Clove Havenbel was going to volunteer.