I'm so hungry. I can't sleep from hunger. I've never been this hungry. It's almost amusing. Everything is to do with hunger. It's a hungry world. All of us. They're hungry for power and we're just, normal, plain sort of hunger. The kind of hunger I'm feeling right now. Just not as bad as I'm feeling. The word has lost its meaning the amount of times I've repeated it in my head. Shame the actual thing hasn't gone as well. The Hunger Games… Yeah, it's just a game to them. Watching me slowly getting thinner and weaker and starving to death on their giant screens and betting on how long it'll take before I die. The last parachute came eight days ago. I haven't eaten anything proper since then. I've chewed moss or eaten nuts and they've kept me alive for the past week. I wish I had a weapon or something to make a snare with. The squirrels, Mockingjays and other creatures taunt me from the trees. 'Finch can't catch us!' the chirp to each other 'Finch has no weapons!' and 'We're so delicious but she can't set any traps!'

Maybe the intense hunger is making me go a bit strange in the head if I'm imaging the woodland creatures think like that. But who can blame me? I am being filmed every waking moment. Who wouldn't become a paranoid wreck?

I sit in my shelter staring out into the thick forest. The shelter is well build and keeps the rain out but not particularly camouflaged. Then again I haven't seen another tribute in goodness knows how long. It's weird to look into the distance and think that somewhere they're out there, fighting for their survival just like I am. Both from District 2, the boy from District 11, both from District 12 and me. A while back I heard an announcement that two victors could be crowned if they were from the same District. It doesn't mean much to me, the boy from mine is long dead, but it does mean that they are stronger together. Putting 100% into their alliance rather than not as much with the knowledge only one can survive. It means they are stronger…

Then I am jolted from my grim thoughts of how two people could work together to kill me (if the lack of food doesn't finish me off first) by a loud crackling and a booming voice.

I listen as a feast is advertised. Apparently all of us need something desperately and they're giving us a chance to get it. I know what I need. Food. At once I think: this is just a sure-fire way to get myself killed - little, weedy, starved, and un-armed me against the other contestants who know how to fight and probably have loads of weapons. But I need to go if I want a chance of survival. Perhaps if I outsmart the other contestants somehow… That is how I have survived so far, isn't it? Yes, I need to use my brain. To make sure it doesn't end up splattered on the ground. I laugh at my own dark humour for a moment. It's a cracked sort of laugh and the first in months.

I rock backwards and forwards for a minute with my grimy fingers pressed to my temples trying to think of a plan. Where did they say it would be, again? The cornucopia. The cornucopia! That's it! I can hide in the cornucopia tonight and then race out tomorrow, grab the pack and be gone before anyone else has got there. That way I only have to make the sprint once and they'll be too busy trying to protect their own packs before they go after anyone else.

"You're a genius, Finch." I say to myself, with a sly grin.

Then I burst out laughing again.

It's cold in the cornucopia. I lean up against the freezing metal sides and try to sleep. I'll need sleep so my reflexes are better in the morning. Wait! No! I can't sleep! What if someone else has the same idea as me, comes here and finds me sleeping? I'd be as good as dead. I would be dead. No I can't sleep. This will be a long night, I think to myself… And it is.