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I see her. The girl from district eight. The girl who got a ten in her training score. I know her name but I avoid it, I'm going to kill her after all. I know it's stupid and selfish and killing will rip me apart but she's the girl from district eight. She's the girl who got a ten in her training score. She's the girl who I'm going to kill to keep myself alive. I need the sponsors. I'm a nobody, but once I remove the biggest player in this game people will look at me differently. With admiration, puzzlement, respect even. I'll knock us all into the final eight, and then I'll keep on going until I win this thing. I don't want to kill anyone, but she's the girl from district eight and I need her dead.

I follow her through the bushes; she's walking through the woods, unaware of my presence. She freezes and I seize my chance. I pull back the string on my bow and aim my arrow at her heart. For a moment I hesitate, but then I remind myself of who she is. She's the girl from district eight. I let the arrow shoot towards her and I know that I'm a murderer as she drops to the floor.

But then she springs back up again. She's seen me somehow, how stupid I've been. She flies off and I follow, desperate. I can't lose her now; everyone will think I'm a nobody. But I'm not, I need to be someone. I need to be a winner. I crash through the undergrowth after her. I'm gaining on her; I might actually finish what I've begun. Suddenly I've reached a clearing and the girl from district eight is standing there, hands held aloft.

Is she giving in? My face flushes with a smile. Now I can get this over with, now I can kill her. But then she speaks, this wasn't meant to happen. I'll get attached, I'll get roped in by her words. But still I listen.

"At least come out so I can see my murderer." Stammers the girl, knowing she's standing on her last feet.

Murderer, the word pings something in my heart. Yes, I'm going to kill her. I'm not going to change that. But she has a right. She has a right to see my face, and anyway, what harm could it possibly do? I creep out of the shadows, letting myself be seen in the open. There's something in her hands though. Not a weapon of a sort, but a rope; a rope with a knot in it which is flying towards me, ready to capture me.

I fumble with my bow. Maybe I can shoot her quickly, but the rope whips at me, knocking my bow aside and sending me skidding across the floor. The top layers of skin from my knees have come off and I clutch at them in pain, feeling it sting my body. But I can't think of that now, I mustn't think of that now. I struggle to get up and a loop of a rope flies towards me. Just in time I yank my foot away, I have to live. I have to win. I'm not anybody, I'm somebody. I'm real and I'm here, and I want to keep it that way. There's my bow, just next to me. If I can get it then I'm fine. I'll shoot an arrow through her heart before she notices anything else, and then I'm free.

But the rope flies again just as I lift myself up and this time it catches and this time I can't get away, I'm caught. She's tugging me towards her, scraping all my skin on the ground. Haven't my knees gone through enough suffering? Haven't I been through enough suffering? But it seems not. The girl slings her end of the rope over the tree and I leap up and run toward my bow and arrows, but she grabs the very end of it and tugs again, this time with her body weight as well as her strength. I'm no match for her.

I'm dragged, scraping along the floor until suddenly there isn't anything below me. A chasm! She's hooked me over a chasm. I am dangling upside down, my wavy brown hair falling behind my head. I struggle, but I know even if I can break the rope I'll die anyway. Death feels too close. Death feels too hard.

Tears stream down my face. I've never cried upside down before so they stay in my eyes, clouding my vision and making my eyes sting. I scream a long mournful screech. I'm going to die. I don't want to die. I don't deserve to die. Just anyone, anything, let me live, let me have a life like I've always wanted, it's all I wanted. All my rights have been stolen by the Capitol and now my right to live has too. The girl from district eight wanders up to me, as if admiring me. I have to seem tough, and strong.

"Come to gloat?" I ask her, knowing that those very words could be my last. I pour all my emotions into anger at this girl – my murderer, and also at the Capitol for they are the ones pulling the strings. I look at the girl's face. It is filled with sorrow and is that a tear I see in her eye. She brushes it away but I understand. She's like me; she has to kill to live. She's not a career who enjoys and relishes ending life, she's like me. She's a girl from a district and she wants to go home.

The girl reaches for the rope and I know she's about to release me to plummet to my death when she takes me goggles. I'm enveloped in darkness; at least she gave me one right which the Gamemakers didn't; the right to die in peace.

I just want it over. The girl from district eight grabs one of my arrows and uses it to saw away at the rope by my foot which is holding me up. I'll soon die; I'll soon end all this suffering that life has bought me. But I'm afraid, oh so afraid. I'm afraid for my family and for my friends. I'm afraid for this strange girl and all the other tributes and most importantly I'm afraid for myself.

The rope gets severed and I feel the freezing cold air whoosh past my face. Then I feel the stone; the cold, hard stone, the stone which ends my life. My fear is ended. Everything is ended. Everything is black.

She's the girl from district eight. I'm the girl from district six. I'm the girl she killed.