It was a nice summer day in the woods, until my best friend was killed by a savage. Then I remembered that it is not a nice day. I am in the Hunger Games and I watched as a career slaughtered my dear childhood friend. I could have done something but I froze in horror, helpless as he screamed for me. My name. He needed my help and I stood just beyond his reach. I am a coward. It is silly, really, that I even referred to this day as being "nice" in the first place. Anyway, I barely managed to slip away, leaving him for the dead. He would have wanted me to get away, to continue living, or that's what I want myself to believe. I suppose you could say I am running for my life now. I stumble over tree roots as his cannon sounds, tears hazing my vision. He was too young to die, like all the other kids that have perished. Just then, I trip and I am sent sprawling into the dirt. I squeeze my eyes closed and take deep breathes. More tears come, faster now. I could give up. I could let myself be killed. No. Stay in this for your best friend. I tell myself. Glancing up through my curtain of hair, I spy a distinct cave opening. It seems to be small, but promising from afar. My head whips around, surveying the area. It could be a trap. Shrugging the paranoia from my shoulders, I shakily stand. I fall back to my knees, breathing hard. Don't be such a baby. Do it for your friend. I stand again, this time steadying myself before cautiously approaching the cave. My hand encloses the handle of the knife attached to my belt and I slide it out quietly. Slowly, I enter the cave. It has a musty scent lingering and only abandoned supplies lay in the dirt. I kneel down in relief as a dig through the open backpack and the tools strewn in front of it. I didn't have much in the beginning but a small pack with some jerky, rope, and two knives. I end up taking another knife that is a bit larger than my throwing knives, a baggy of dried fruit, and a compass. As I am sliding my new knife into my belt, I hear a voice from behind me. "Hey!" The boyish voice protests. I turn to him where a small dagger greets me. I make the mistake of leaning back and stumble. I curse myself under my breath. When I get a good look at him, I realize that he's trembling and that the knife is in his non dominant hand by the way he holds it. One side of my mouth goes up in a smirk as I sling my bag on my back. He won't put up much of a fight. He seems to be one of the boys I know in my district, too many siblings, always tired and trying to provide, and doing odd jobs to help out his parents. Parents that are probably already hiding their faces from what could happen to their precious boy. "What are you going to do about it?" I ask the boy, warily eyeing his knife. He might have the strength to strike. "I-I'll cut you." He warns, his voice quivering. "Yeah, and I was just leaving to get my unicorn ready for battle." I answer, rolling my eyes in response. He raises an eyebrow in suspicion. Just then I notice his grip loosen and I raise my leg and kick his knife away, leaving him weaponless. He takes a step back, his eyes showing fear. "I don't want to listen to your bullshit, kid. I advise you to tell me the truth when I ask for it." "Please don't kill me." He begs. He raises his hands in surrender. Instead of letting him go, I lurch forward and wrestle him to the ground. He groans, wiggling under me. I sit on his back with his wrists bound behind him. I lean closer to his ear, anger surging through me. His heavy breathing suddenly seems deafening in the cave as I watch his eye flit around, terrified. I push his head into the ground, his cheek in the dirt. And then it halts. The anger begins to ease out of my blood. "Don't make me change my mind." I hiss. Rolling off the top of him, I push up from the ground and duck out of the cave. A few moments later, the boy rushes to catch up. "Hey!" The kid shouts. "Wait!" I laugh humorlessly, turning and folding my arms across my chest. "You're really waiting for your death wish, aren't you, kid?" He frowns. "Why didn't you kill me?" He seems confused. Raising an eyebrow, I take a step forward. I don't answer yet. "Anyone else would have killed me before I had the chance to shout. Why not you?" "Don't make me think twice." I mumble. "But why?" Again, I laugh, run my fingers through my hair, drop my arms to my sides. "I'm sorry," I reply sarcastically, "I forgot to ask first. Would you like to replay that scene so I could just slit your throat instead? Because I'm getting really close to doing just that." I begin to say hysterically. "I'm serious." He frowns. "And you think I'm not?" He fidgets uncomfortably. I scoff, shaking my head and begin to walk away. "Please, just tell me why you did it. Or didn't do it, actually." "You really want to know so badly?" I say loudly. "It's because I'm not that kind of person." I am shocked admitting out loud. That I'm a coward. He appears to feel the same way. I sigh, feeling defeated. Feeling as if my hard outer wall has crumbled and all that is left is a young, quivering girl afraid of getting her hands dirty. The boy cautiously begins to walk towards me. I reach for my throwing knife but he holds his up in surrender. He doesn't seem to be carrying anything, visible anyway. "Drop the weapons." I instruct him. "You won't hurt me." He says in a soothing voice as if he's calming animals or small children. I furrow my brow and point the knife at him as he bends over and unveils a hidden dagger in his boot. He holds it up before dropping on the ground then righting himself. "Don't be so sure about that." I mutter. And suddenly a walls of emotion slams into me and I whip the knife at the boy. I remember this boy and my cowardice lead my friend to his death on my watch. His eyes widen but he doesn't have time to duck as the knife sticks in his stomach. I bend over shakily, placing my hands on my knees as I retch. How could I have let her slip through my fingers so easily? Time moves in slow motion as the boy cries out and falls to his knees. His hands touch his bloodied shirt with shaking hands. His breathing quickens as warm blood gushes between his fingers. He glances back up at me with sadness and betrayal in his eyes. I smirk. A life for a life. My friend's face flashes across my eyes. That same face of betrayal stares back at me. My breath is so loud in my ears that the words I uttered come out quieter than they should be. I should kill him. A voice in my head taunts. But I bend over and vomit into the leaves. My head clears a bit after that and stand upright, wiping my mouth on my jacket sleeve. "I'm Ivo." He chokes. "What?" I say gruffly. "My name, it's Ivo and I'm sixteen years old. I have a family at home, Eunia, my family needs me." "Just as I suspected." I just frown, feeling like throwing up the little substance in my stomach. He appears like he's going to cry. "How do you know my name?" I squint at him. It's a stupid question because I already know the answer. I think of a better question. "Why are you telling me this?" He looks faint as he replies. "At the Reapings." His voice is quieter as well. "I know your name from the Reapings. I was telling you about myself so maybe you wouldn't kill me." He closes his eyes. "My dad told me about that." He scoffed then grinned weakly. "My dad is an intelligent man but I guess he gave me the wrong information." Now that he explained things, I suppose I am starting to have second thoughts. Even though I wasn't really planning on maiming or killing him in the first place. "What's going to stop me?" I scoff. "Nothing." He whispers before collapsing on the ground. I stare at the crumpled boy- Ivo. Carefully, I walk over to him and crouch down. Examining his wound, I realize that his wound is more serious than I originally thought. Swallowing the guilty lump in my throat, I decide to help him. I didn't actually mean to hurt him, or anyone else when I entered the games. Especially letting my friend die on me. I was responsible for him and I let him die in front of me. Walking around him, I bend down and slip my hands under his armpits. Taking deep breaths, I pull him upwards and drag him back into the cave. He's still unconscious when I prop him up against the cave wall. When Ivo comes to, I am just finishing wrapping cloth tightly around his torso. He glances down at his bandage and up at me. My stomach drops. I did this to him- I'm a monster. Slowly, he props himself up on his elbows. He groans, his face pale. "I had to use your shirt as a bandage." I explain quickly. He blinks slowly and glances down at his injury. I grab his jacket and set it in his lap. "I didn't think you'd wake up." I say honestly. He had lost a lot of blood. "Thanks." He finally replies. "Why did you spare me, again?" I shrug, taking in his utter beauty. I hadn't realized how cute he was before. Maybe it was the childish way he begged for his life and didn't give up that made me so ignorant. "Come on, Eunia, just tell me." Then he gives me a weak killer smile. I wince and look away. I don't deserve this. I don't want or need this. "What?" He asks. "What did you say, my love?" I swallow, blushing and turning away. By then, I am done. I can't hold it in anymore. I leap at him, careful not to lie on his torso and passionately kiss him. My hands slide up and cup his face. He wraps his arms around my waist and rubs my back in large circles. I tilt my head to the side and deepen the kiss. I pull away, satisfied that I made my move, but hungry for more. Ivo smiles up at me as I lounge beside him like nothing happened. But something did happen, something wonderfully exciting. "What was that for?" He asks with a goofy grin on his face. Still grinning, he leans over and places his lips on mine. Halfway through the kiss, Ivo groans and lies back down again. "You're really pale." I comment, gently pushing the hair out of his face. Then he turns away from me and coughs loudly. He wipes his mouth and sits back again. "Oh my God, Ivo." I say, noticing the blood on his lips. "I think I lost too much blood." He chuckles faintly. His eyes flutter closed. I lean over and place a kiss on his forehead. Then I get up and strap my belt back on. I choose the larger knife that I stole from Ivo and smirk to myself. A life for a life. "Why did you kiss me?" He says lightly. We both know he's dying. "I want to know before I die." Leaning down to his ear, I whisper. "I was hoping it was your death wish, I mean, you killed my best friend." Ivo's eyes snap open in haste. "Wha'?" Before I bother answering, I place both hands on the handle of the knife and force the dagger down into Ivo's chest. Ivo lets out a pained shriek. "I know you were a former career, Ivo, I'm not a dimwit. You were there when she was killed!" I shout. I run my fingers through my hair only halfway and grab two fistfuls of matted, dirty hair. I scream in frustration and anger. "You ran though." I say hysterically, tears forming in my eyes. I pace. Try to calm myself. "You-" I say weakly. I choke on the word. "You watched her brutal murder." Turning away, I gather up his and my supplies. "I thought you loved me, Eunia." He says in a small voice. I wipe the tears away with my sleeve. "No one decent wins the games." I retort with a scoff. I stop to listen to his labored breathing. I pick up my bag and sling it on my back. "Did you really think that I would just let us be allies? It's all about the game." I reply, venom in my voice. Then I lean over and place another gentle kiss upon his forehead. "You really have to be careful who you trust, Ivo." I stand back upright and walk to the mouth of the cave. I stop when I hear his voice, oh so small now. "Eunia, please..." But then I keep walking. You have to play dirty or die an awful death. "I would have never loved you."