AN: So, hi :) I love Clato so I decided to start writing this story about them. This is Chapter 1 out of who knows how many, haha. Tell me what you guys think :) xoxo And yes, I know this first chapter is short, but it's just a backstory-ish sort of thing. Don't worry, the next ones will be longer :)

I sit in my room, gripping my arm in pain. He's done it again. Cato Sanders has made me shed tears. It happens almost everyday now. He hurts me. I don't even know why, but I have been his target since we were children. I don't know if I somehow angered him or if I'm just his training toy. I don't know what I ever did to him.

The memories come flooding back.

It was my first day at the Training Center, and I was so happy, so excited. I couldn't wait to find out what my weapon would be. After my mother dropped me off I began to walk around and explore. There were children of my age, and much older. I saw a young boy who couldn't be more than two years older than me. He wasn't training, though. He was just leaning against the wall, holding a sword in his right hand. I decided to walk over to him, being the idiot that I am, thinking we could be friends, or maybe training buddies.

"Hi." No response came though. He just let his eyes wander around the Center, watching everybody train. He looked unimpressed. "Hello?" I asked, hoping for some type of answer. Even just a small one.

"What?" He dropped his eyes down to look at me as he replied sharply. I should have realized that he didn't want to talk, I could have gotten off easy.

"I'm Clove. What's your name?"

"Go away." But I didn't.

"Why won't you tell me? I told you my name."

"I'm going to call you Knives."

"Why?"

"Because that's your weapon, isn't it?"

"I don't know my weapon yet. It's my first day."

"Well, that's going to be your weapon."

"How do you know?"

"I can tell."

"How?" I was so nosy. I could never stop prying.

"Just leave me alone."

"But-"

"I said leave me alone!" He had a sudden outburst. He just exploded. He hit me; on my cheek. That was the first time. And it has never stopped.

I was six then. Now I'm sixteen.

He wasn't wrong about my weapon. It turned out I was made for knives. I never did find out how he knew; there's something strange about that boy. But one thing I know for sure is, I have never hated anybody as much as I hate him.

My mind goes back to back the current agonizing pain I am experiencing.

I don't know what to do, I can't take anymore of this. This pain is too much. Today wasn't the worst, but who knows how bad it could get? The Reaping is only a week away. Maybe he will get chosen and go off and die. I can only pray. Or maybe he will volunteer. He is eighteen. But what if he wins? And then what if he terrorizes me for the rest of my life?

I know what I need to do.

It takes me a while to find the rope, but I eventually uncover it under a pile of my family's clothes. I tie a noose and hang it onto a ceiling fan blade, which is a very bad choice. But I can't think straight right now. I move a chair under it and step up onto it. I tighten the rope around my neck. I close my eyes.

Should I do it? Should I really do it? Maybe he'll die in the Games? But what if he doesn't? Maybe he will leave me alone. Maybe he won't. I should wait until the Reaping. But I can't. I can't take one more second of his torture. Will I really step off this chair and into oblivion? The answer comes simply.

I step.

AN: Yes, there will be more to the story. This is CHAPTER 1.