I wake up drenched in sweat or rainwater (it's hard to tell which as it is still raining) and panting as If I've just run a mile. I feel sick. Very sick indeed but I'm afraid of vomiting after what I saw in the dream. Whenever I close my eyes I see the lifeless faces and the bloody knife in my dirty hands as if they've been imprinted on the inside of my eyelids. I crawl outside of my shelter and sit in the rain hoping it will cleanse my mind and my body. I sit there cross-legged for goodness knows how long. Only when I look down at my knees do I realised how drenched I am. I try to wring out my hair but there is no use. More rain just falls on it and I'm not getting back in my shelter. It's the only dry place I've got. Ugh… Another stalemate.

If I go back in the shelter I'll just get it all wet so I can't do that. But if I wait out here I'm just going to get wetter and wetter.

I guess I'm just going to have to sit out here getting freezing and waiting for the rain to stop.

Stupid Finch! Scolds the grumpy, sensible voice, you should have stayed in the dry shelter!

I had to get into the fresh air, says the other voice I was suffocating in there you know!

No you weren't! It was only a dream!

It was a scary nightmare!

Grow up Finch. Your living a nightmare every day, you have to deal with it straight on if you ever want to get out.

I need to eat but I'm not hungry after seeing all the blood. Instead I decide to go foraging. I'm already soaking wet, I can't get any wetter can I? Five minutes in I decide to conclude that yes I can, I am ankle-deep in mud and I've managed to get mud all over my hands. Sticky wet oozy mud. Yuck. The river is too deep to wash off in and the rain doesn't seem to be doing much good so instead I trudge back to my shelter empty handed and tired and muddy. I sit outside and feel miserable. This has got to end sometime soon. I can feel it coming on. I can feel that something is going to happen soon. I can almost taste the suspense in the air.

Boom! The noise of the cannon makes me jump out of my skin.

I rush into my shelter. Once I've calmed down a bit, started breathing properly, I realise that I've trailed mud into the shelter. Great. Just great. But then I realise with a jolt that the cannon meant another tribute has died! Goodness gracious. Three left. Although I'm still unsure of whom they might be… Well, I'm one step closer to home, anyway.