author's note: re-upload

The hard-packed earth beneath me is solid and looks harmless enough. There is a lake nearby and a forest a little far off. How many nightmares did I have of what my arena could hold? I imagined so many things, but never something as simple as this. Never flat, stable land. Never a water and food source so nearby. Gamemakers don't want easy arenas, they want terrifying ones like with mazes and in caves and up on cliffs. Those are the ones that are favorites among the Capitol to watch and the most torturous to be in. But it seemed as if this year they were giving us a break.

Maybe I have a chance.

One part of me hopes so. I've doubted myself ever since they called my name at the district square, knowing I'll be dead in minutes, my coffin sent the next day, and that everyone will forget me just as quick. But being here, it all seems surreal. I feel as though escaping the bloodbath would be effortless.

And then I see the Cornucopia. It seems so close, and everything in it will just prolong my survival. I could— could get there. And even if I didn't, there was so much stuff littered around the arena, I could grab some of those and be off on my merry way. I lay my eyes on a green pack small enough I could lift, but large enough to hold many things.

The gong rings and I jump off my platform and start running. I'm not the fastest runner, but I got a head start. As I run, I be wary of things around me, but I tripped a couple of times on little objects I could have no use for now. A can opener. A slingshot. A toothbrush. I keep running at my slow pace. And that's when the screams begin.

Don't listen. Just keep running. Don't look anywhere.

A thought of me escaping the Cornucopia alive enters my head and a smile escaped to my lips. More thoughts fill my head, each better than the last. Having enough food and water. The Career pack dead in a day from some Gamemaker contraption.

Me being crowned Victor.

Smack!

Time slows down, and I feel myself falling.

My face hits on something hard and uneven, but not the ground. Pain erupts. That metallic taste is everywhere. Something's dripping from my lip. Did I break my nose too? I couldn't tell. All I knew was that the Games have barely started and I am lying on the ground face down, bleeding from an injury I caused myself.

I did the one thing I could.

I cried. Tears that I was holding back since the hovercraft ride are set free and are slipping down my nose. I did the same thing when I was reaped. I cried and refused to go and grabbed on to everything I could get a hold of. This is the second time that all of Panem will see me cry. And the thought of that brings tears faster.

Who am I to think that I could win these Games? The Capitol doesn't need a weak, pathetic Victor. They need someone who is strong, brave, and unafraid to kill whiny, little girls like me.

Sounds of hurt and desperation escape me. Maybe if I am quiet, the others will leave me alone, thinking I was already dead. I already have enough blood to make it seem like it. But I couldn't. I am shaking uncontrollably and moaning.

Footsteps. And they're getting louder. Someone's coming. I quiet my sobs and try to lay still. But they still come closer.

They know!

They're heavy, loud steps and instantly I knew a Career has found me and intends to kill me. I scrunch my eyes, refusing to look alive and slow my breathing. But I'm still shaking and I know I'm done for when a hand pulls me over onto to my back. I keep my eyes closed. I don't want to see the face of the murderer above before I die. I don't want to know who killed me...

"I'm sorry."

A hushed, gentle male voice. Not harsh. Not psychotic laughter. An apology.

"I really am. I just need to save...her."

Save who? Me? I want to open my eyes, but it seems like too much work. I can't speak with my mouth full of all this saltiness. But then I realize this maybe my last chance to save myself. I swallow the blood, clearing my mouth, but leaving an iron taste in my throat. I open my eyes and begin to talk.

"Are- are you going to...?" I trail off when I see the knife. Dark red and dripping. This boy, he killed someone else. And now he's going to kill me. He wasn't going to save me. The tears came again.

I moved my eyes up to his face. Blond hair, blue eyes. Hair and eye colors we don't see in my district. This beautiful boy was going to kill me to save someone. And then it hits me. It's the boy who was in love with his District partner. What was his name? It was... I don't know. It hurt too much to think. It hurt too much to stare at him. The sun is too bright, and I feel myself falling into the ground.

"Owww," I said, closing my eyes.

"You hit your face on a rock. That's why it hurts now. But I promise…I'll make it quick."

No. Not quick. I want to stay. I want to be alive. NO! Don't kill me. Don't. Please. All in my head. Words don't come out of my mouth. Whatever holds me to this earth is slipping away. I'm going. I'm going. Hurry up. Hurry up. Thoughts get quieter and I feel like I'm falling asleep.

"Just think of home."

I feel the cool, smooth edge of a knife at the side of my neck. I nod before everything is gone.