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Review Reply to HIT: I did mean to message you on the forum but it kept slipping my mind. Sorry. Anyhow, thanks for the review. Hope this chapter doesn't disappoint :)

Geth342: You know how i said i was done with the production? I was so, so wrong. Therefore, if this chapter is awful, i'm sorry but i've been half-asleep for the last week (i had 12 hours sleep today and i'm still shattered). Luckily, it really is over now. Anyhow, wow. Thanks for all the reviews. You've made me a very happy person. I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Next update will be 24th July - 27th July. Enjoy :)

Chapter 10: Control Your Temper

It's Kayn who manages to work out that Hulde can't be dead. After all, he reasons, if she had died in the earthquake, her body would be gone. If she had died while we were walking, we'd have heard the cannon go off. So, she's just unconscious. Or dying.

I'm not sure if I'm happy about this idea or not. Hulde hates me and she's one of the scariest people in this arena. If she was dead, this would be easier. At the same time, I don't want her to die.

I wonder if I'm schizophrenic…

We sit by the Cornucopia in silence. The mood from the walk has disappeared completely. Occasionally, Rashnid or Jak will check on Hulde but, otherwise, we are all silent. Is this really supposed to be entertainment? I think having my dad yell at me for being stupid is more entertaining. It's definitely less painful anyway.

After about an hour, Hulde wakes up. She's still pale but her eyes flutter open weakly and her hands move slightly. She forces herself to sit up.

"Wa' 'appen?" she slurs at us.

"Pardon?" asks Jak.

"Wha' … happened?"

"There was an earthquake," Rashnid supplies helpfully. "We found you unconscious, man."

"It looks like half our food is gone too," adds Skira.

"Jak and Rashnid got themselves injured," Kayn says scornfully.

"So, all in all … I guess it wasn't a good day," I finish.

She shakes her head and winces. "Water crashed into the Cornucopia and I got knocked into the horn." She glances at the floor and mumbles something. I think she's saying she doesn't know how she survived. She then moves her arm which makes her yell in pain.

We gather around her (I'm not really sure why because all we're actually doing is making her feel more cramped) and ask her what's wrong. She points to her right arm, which I have to say does look strange. I'm not sure what's wrong, and I can't say I go around staring at Hulde's arm a lot, but I swear it didn't look like that when we left. Jak expertly pokes her arm, making her shout again.

"I don't think it's broken," he informs her.

"Good," she growls. "That means you can stop touching it."

"It looks dislocated," Kayn says.

"I'd listen to him," I add. "He's good with medical stuff."

Everyone looks at me like I've gone crazy (which, hey, might have happened) but Kayn does take a closer look and says that the only thing he can think of is pushing the joint back into place. Unsurprisingly, Hulde doesn't like the sound of this and says as much. Jak puts it to a vote; she loses.

Kayn is the person who agrees to put her shoulder back into place. We give her a piece of cloth to bite on and move her as far away from weaponry as possible. Finally, Kayn grabs her shoulder and, without any warning, tugs at it. She manages to bite through the cloth.

Her arm looks healthier now – probably because it's attached properly – but she looks awful. As in, if there was such a thing as the walking dead, Hulde would be the stereotype. She's a mass of bruises, cuts and dried blood. Frankly, her powers of survival must be amazing. At some point, she gets medicine from her sponsors, which stops her looking so pale. I'm glad I'm not the only idiot who has to have outside help. As a result of her injuries, though, we let her rest while we take stock of what is left.

A lot of our food has been ruined. I say that rocky bread might be edible but Rashnid challenges me to eat it and I have to admit defeat. We still have food in packets and there's enough to keep us going for a while. We have medicine and clothes too. Otherwise, it looks like we're going to have to brush up on our hunting. The fact that we haven't seen an edible animal since the Games started notwithstanding, that will be our only option in a few days.

We spend the rest of the day trying to organise our food while talking about nothing in particular. I go to sleep earlier than everyone else because I have second watch in the night. I don't really care that any audience watching us would be bored out of their skulls. They're probably watching some kid limping on the mountain anyway.

I have a peaceful sleep. I've noticed that my peaceful nights are in correlation to the people we kill. So, if I want a good night's sleep, I can't kill anyone. Seems like a sort of lose-lose situation. Sleep but no chance of winning versus winning and no sleep.

The night watch is actually quite difficult because I'm watching for people with a flashlight. If all the other tributes in the arena charged me now, I'd spot about two of them. Luckily, I don't think a lot of kids will team up – they're not as stupid as us. However, if anyone does come, they don't seem to feel like attacking us because I don't see them.

Of course, it lightens up during my watch and it becomes easier to spot the amazing lack of tributes. By the time the first person wakes up (Skira), I am sat down, bored. I greet her cheerfully.

She yawns. "My arm still hurts from yesterday," she tells me by way of greeting.

"Is it dislocated?" I grin wickedly. "Kayn's experiment looked fun."

She has a look of complete horror on her face. "Stay away from my arm!"

"You're standing in the way of my ambition to become a doctor," I inform her.

"I feel better already."

I have no idea when Skira became so talkative and sarcastic. It must be from Jak. He's a bad influence. However, it's nice to see Skira come out of her shell a bit. I guess that conversation yesterday had a good effect on her. Remembering those flowers probably made her happy.

She asks me how the night watch was and I tell her that it was about as thrilling as watching paint dry. Actually, I hear paint drying's quite exciting in the Capitol – lots of hi-tech machines – so my comment doesn't really make sense. Still, Skira seems to sympathise, whether she realises that the watch was boring, or whether she thinks I was fighting off tributes in complete silence. With Skira, it's hard to know which one.

Jak wakes up next and joins in our conversation about the weather (yes, we have sunk this low), followed by Hulde (who doesn't join in) and, finally, Kayn and Rashnid. Hulde still looks as though something tried to eat her and then spat her out. I don't know how she's still standing. If it was me, I think I would have just not bothered to get up.

We all decide that the chances of a second earthquake are fairly low so it should be safe to go hunting (that being said, if you'd asked me about the chances of an earthquake yesterday, I would have said low so I'm not sure what to think). We also decide that Hulde isn't going to be able to come anywhere with us today and so we should leave her here. She objects but can't argue with five of us.

So, once again, we leave Hulde in the Cornucopia. I'm not sure this is a good idea; if someone attacks her, she'll probably die. But before I can say anything, I remember that the point of the Hunger Games is to kill people. Not save their lives.

Well, at least I remembered it before I saved anyone's life this time (though Hulde's mentor must be disappointed in me). That's a good sign. OK, it's actually a sign that I'm becoming a homicidal maniac but that's probably better than just being me.

We start the trek off in silence. Jak is limping a bit but, otherwise, we're just as good as we were yesterday. However, after a while, we sort of lose our motivation. Even though none of us say as much, the conversation yesterday has really gotten to us. Without meaning to, we start to ask Skira about different plants in the Jungle. We also ask Jak about drawing but it's mostly Skira. It keeps us occupied for a while.

I don't know about most people but I'd definitely prefer to see this on the television rather than lots of death. Then again, I've always been a bit odd. Maybe murder's what everyone loves and I'm just out of the loop.

Our conversation stops when Rashnid spots the boy from Three out of the corner of his eye. The boy promptly disappears but, as Jak says, we have Skira the 'wonder-tracker' on our side. We follow in the direction of the boy, keenly surveying the ground. I can now recognise more signs of people walking through so I'm learning something. These Games are certainly an education. Fighting, geography, gardening and tracking. Makes my years of school seem wasted, really.

The one thing which we keep forgetting about the boy from Three is how fast he is. Every time we think we can catch him, he puts on a burst of speed and we lose him again. The only thing which makes me feel better is that when we do see him, he doesn't look particularly happy. I guess running away from five murderous teenagers isn't much fun.

We lose him in a stream. He's been smart enough to kick pebbles both ways so it's harder to see him. Also, Skira suspects he's climbed a tree and jumped off which is actually quite impressive; the trees here have an amazing lack of branches. He's an agile boy.

Kayn, however, is nowhere near as impressed as I am. Once again, he tells Skira off for messing up. Once again, the rest of us try to defend her.

"Come on, man," Rashnid says. "It's not like she told him to climb a tree."

"Yes, Kayn. Skira's done a good job so far," Jak adds gallantly. "This tribute's just a slippery one."

"But we knew where he went. We didn't need to spend so long tracking him," snarls Kayn.

"Hey, speak for yourself!" I say. "Back by that tree, I had no idea where he'd gone."

"Back by that tree?" asks Jak politely. "Which one? This place is filled with trees."

"The really distinctive one. It was big. I called it Ruby."

"Yes, that narrows it down," Jak laughs. "Ruby! Ruby! Where are you, Ruby?"

I start to laugh too. "Well, there was a tree. I liked it."

I think my stupidity has a calming effect on Kayn because he's smiling now. "You liking trees? You hate nature."

"No, I hate ants. Not trees." I think for a moment. "Actually, I don't like poisonous plants much either."

"Shut up," Skira hisses. "I can hear someone."

"Me?"

"Shut up, Jewel." This is Kayn by the way, not Skira.

I shut up and listen. I can hear footsteps but I'm not sure from where. Hurriedly, we get into a huddle. No one is sure how far away the footsteps are and so we decide to spread out in a line. I get the top of the line. Carefully, I walk forward. If I want to kill this person, I'll have to be quick.

Not that I particularly want to kill anyone, but still.

It soon becomes apparent that the person is near me: I can hear them. In fact, I can hear two sets of footsteps. As I walk, I debate going back to get the others but then I only hear one set again. This is confusing. Who the hell am I following?

I really, really hope the Gamemakers haven't found a way to make ghosts. Are there such things as ghosts? I can never remember. Although this isn't a great time to find out.

I can't help breathing a sigh of relief when I catch a glimpse of sandy hair. I'm following a human. Unless ghosts have hair colour…

Two sets of footsteps!

I begin to run forward, mace ready. If I kill one quickly, I can defend myself against the other person. Or, at least, that's the original plan. But as soon as I get closer, I see a figure fall to the floor.

"I got you," a young voice says triumphantly. As I sneak forward, I see that the figure on the floor is the girl from District 10. She has a knife in her back. The boy from 9 is behind her. So, the sister-killer has murdered again.

The girl from 10 tries to move but she's losing life rapidly. Pity fills me and I decide I can avenge her death too. Which makes no sense really because I've never met her. But it will justify me killing a thirteen-year-old.

"When you killed my sister, I swore I would find you," the boy says in a low voice. "Coward. You couldn't even face us. You just threw that knife in her back and ran off. You thought I wouldn't see you. But I did." He shakes his head. "It's taken me six days, but I found you. And I got you the way you got her." He pauses. "I promised." His voice breaks. "I swore to protect her. You made me break my promise."

The cannon fires. He turns to look at the sky. "Cesva, I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I couldn't save you. But I got her. You hear that cannon? I got her. And I'm going to come home and give you the burial you deserve." Tears start to fall down his cheeks. "I'm coming home."

Now would be a good time to intervene. I could say something smooth like 'No, you're not' or 'Is your home the afterlife?' but I can't. I can't move. All this time, I've been trying to kill this boy because I thought he'd killed his sister. And all this time, he's been trying to avenge her death. I know I should kill him – I can hear Liss screaming at me to do it – but it's like yesterday. There are some moments in these Games which are too much like reality to change. The flowers, the drawings, Rashnid's lake … and the brave thirteen-year-old who only wanted to protect his sister.

He just stands there. I stand there too. I need to make a move. I'm not here for the good of my health – I'm here to win these Games. He might have made a promise but I've made some too. I promised to return Gleam's ring. I promised to come home. I promised to at least try.

And no matter how much I want to, I can't just break all of these promises for the sake of a kid.

With this thought in mind, I decide to charge him. The least I can do is make this painless. But as soon as I take one step, I hear a shout and the boy glances to our right before running off in the other direction. I'm torn between running after him and seeing what has happened to my companions. The problem is solved when the others run into the area.

"Where'd he go?" pants Jak.

I point. "Over there. I was about to attack him but he heard something and bolted." Everyone turns to look at Skira and I know where the shout came from. "Well," I say cheerfully (perhaps too cheerful for someone who just lost a tribute but that can't be helped), "at least it was one of you and not someone coming to kill me."

"Sorry, Jewel," Skira says quietly. "I tripped and sort of … shouted."

I shrug as though it doesn't matter. "Don't worry. I could have been a bit quicker on the uptake but he was in the process of killing this girl and I didn't really want to interrupt." I think for a moment, trying to justify why I hadn't moved afterwards. "Then he went into a nice little speech and you know me, I'm not one to take over a monologue."

"Since when?" Rashnid mutters.

"Since twenty minutes ago. Around about the same time I spotted Ruby."

He sighs and shakes his head. "Man, you pick great times to get manners."

"My mom told me they were always very important. Have to be observed, you know?"

Jak joins in, lightening the mood. "I thought it was my wonderful influence that gave you manners."

"You're right, of course." I shake my head in mock thoughtfulness. "Why didn't I remember that?"

"My presence dazzled you."

"Kiss and get it over with, man," Rashnid shouts. Jak grins and moves towards me, arms outstretched. Before he can complete whatever he's planning, Kayn interrupts.

"Have you forgotten we lost that tribute?" he growls menacingly.

We exchange looks. "Oh, well, nothing we can do about it now," Jak says in a mellow voice. "Unless Skira wants to lead the way again?"

She shrugs. "I don't mind."

"Then 'tis settled," I say in a posh voice. "We shall head forth into the great outdoors and catch the young lad before making him pay for his crimes. Lead the way, Lady Skira." I pause and then add, in my normal voice, "That was an impression of you, Jak. How'd I do?"

"Why, I could not have said it better myself, old lad," he replies in an equally posh voice.

"Shut up!" Kayn yells furiously, breaking into our conversation. We look at him. He's surprisingly angry. But he's been getting angry all day. Maybe it's the heat. "Stop fooling around!"

"Sorry," Jak says, wisely placating him. "Go on, Skira, lead the way."

"You're not letting her lead, are you?" sneers Kayn in a very un-Kayn-like way. "She keeps messing up. She's useless."

"Lay off her, man."

Kayn whirls to face Rashnid. "No!" he shouts. "I want to get out of these Games alive, and that isn't going to happen if she keeps losing the tributes. Since you all want to stay here rather than hurt her feelings, I'll say what we're all thinking. She's useless. She's weak and she can't track." He lets out an angry breath. I'm not sure what to say to him. Why is he so mad?

Skira looks terrified and guilty at the same time. "I'm sorry, Kayn," she stammers. "I'll improve."

"Until the next accident," he sneers.

"I'm sorry," she repeats. "I'll try harder."

He shakes his head. "No. I don't trust you any more."

"I won't mess up again." Tears are forming in her eyes. "I really won't. Just give me another chance."

"And now you're crying. And all this time, that boy is getting further away."

"I'm-"

"Shut it!" he shouts and now I know he's lost his temper. But even I don't expect what happens next.

Kayn lunges forward with his sword, running Skira through with the blade. Her mouth finishes forming the word 'sorry' before Kayn removes his sword and she falls backwards.

The cannon fires for the second time today, signalling the death of the girl with the beautiful garden. The death of the girl who created pictures from words. The girl who, every year, gives her sister a flower like velvet. Her sister will never get another flower.

For a few seconds, the only sound is Kayn's panting. I'm too shocked to say anything. Glancing at Jak and Rashnid, their expressions match my feelings. Skira's death was so quick and so pointless.

I'm the first to find my voice. "What the hell did you do that for?" I say quietly but angrily.

His expression is also a bit surprised. "I lost my temper," he replies calmly. He still looks shocked.

"Lost your temper?" I repeat incredulously. "Lost your temper? That's a bit like saying District 13 isn't looking quite like it used to."

His face is carefully calm. "I didn't mean to. I was just a bit annoyed."

"No, Kayn. 'Just a bit annoyed' means you're a bit moody and maybe not speaking to someone. Losing your temper is a bit of shouting. You killed her!"

He looks slightly guilty but the one thing about Kayn is that he never gives up. "She wasn't any good to us anymore."

I stare at him. "She's the only one out of the six of us who can track! Now you've just made everything harder." I don't know why I'm so mad. It's not like we were extremely close friends; I know she would have had to die eventually. But I liked her. She was a kind person who deserved better than this. She saved my life twice.

And I never paid her back. The one time where I could have repaid the debt, I failed.

Now I know how the boy from 9 feels.

"She kept messing up. Besides, she would have had to die anyway," he remarks stubbornly.

Anger fills me at his statement. "Hey, I messed up too," I remind him.

"Not as much as her."

I don't know what's happened to the Kayn I knew and loved but this isn't him. It can't be.

"But I did. A lot. And, hey, I have to die too in order for you to win. So why don't you kill me too?" I glare at him. "Come on," I challenge him. "Kill me. I'm just as bad as Skira, right?"

He looks uncertain. "I'm not going to kill you."

"Why not? Scared?"

"No. But there's no point."

That does it. Now I am furious. No, not furious. Furious isn't a strong enough word. I'm more than furious. I'm the sort of person who would condemn District 13 to be destroyed in such a way. I'm pure anger. Kayn can't pass judgement on people he feels are useless. Not even in these Games.

"Fine!" I shout. "Then I'll kill you instead. I have no use for people who kill useful members of the team."

I lunge forward at him, swinging my mace. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, a little voice is reminding me that I'm now attempting to murder the boy I once called my best friend. But the rest of me isn't in the mood to listen to that little voice. I smile triumphantly as the spikes on my mace rip into his side.

"Jewel, stop it!" he shouts. I think Jak and Rashnid might be shouting something too but I'm beyond reason. All I can think of is how pointless Skira's death was. How Kayn killed her just because he was mad. How if I couldn't repay my debt while she was living, I can at least do it now that she's dead.

He blocks my second swing with his sword. Blood is seeping through his shirt but he doesn't seem to notice. I aim for his head. He blocks me again. His expression is worried.

"Come on," I shout at him. "Or can't you kill someone who fights you?"

"I don't want to kill you." He's sounding like himself again but I'm ignoring this.

"Fine. Then you can die." I'm really not sure where all these words are coming from. I know it's me speaking but at the same time, it's not. I've never been vaguely threatening at all, apart from when fighting for my life. But now, all I can think about is killing Kayn.

Is that what these Games are supposed to do to you?

I falter at this thought. Kayn's arm swings forward, blocking a non-existent hit, and his sword pierces my right shoulder. I grit my teeth in pain but lunge forward. Finally. He's fighting back.

(The little voice is screaming at me that he isn't actually fighting back but, once again, it's being ignored)

He blocks and knocks the mace out of my grip. I charge forward, using my head to butt him in the stomach. He falls backwards, losing his grip on his sword. I pick it up. It's heavier than I expected.

"Looks like I beat you for a change," I tell him.

He suddenly grins challengingly. "No, you didn't," he says before rolling away. As I turn to swing at him, he jumps up and hits me in my injured arm. It takes all of my concentration to hold onto the blade.

I try to swing at him but it's too weak. Kayn starts to laugh but suddenly stops. There's something behind my shoulder which he's looking at. I don't look. Instead, I try to lunge at him again.

He moves out of the way and thumps my shoulder. The sword falls. Quickly, he picks it up and then, to my surprise, turns and runs. One hand clutches his side. Blearily, I turn around to see what has scared him, but it's only Jak and Rashnid.

"What-"

Darkness.

I'm very surprised to find that I'm not dead. I feel like I probably should be but I'm not. In fact, 'Hey, I'm alive' is the first thing I say.

Jak smiles pleasantly at me. Rashnid is scowling but I'm not sure who at.

"You are indeed," he informs me before turning to Rashnid. "Told you she wouldn't die."

"Sure," Rashnid mutters irritably. I feel my right arm – I have a bandage now! – before looking at the District 4 boy. I thought we had something going for us but apparently not. Although, I can see why my death would be an advantage.

"Where did the bandage come from?"

Jak shrugs. "We felt leaving you to bleed to death wouldn't be fair."

"Thanks," I tell him.

"You also have a gift, man," Rashnid adds, gesturing to a small parachute.

"Oh, great." I pick up the package. It's some sort of medicine for blood loss. I'm surprised I still have sponsors after today, but I don't want to point this out. Instead, I just take the pills. Almost immediately, I feel better.

"We should get back to Hulde, man. And away from the bodies."

"Alright," I agree. Then I remember. "Why did Kayn run away?"

The boys exchange looks. Jak decides to answer. "We made it clear that we considered him a dangerous factor in our group, if he was going to kill members of our team for little reason. He decided to run." He pauses. "We would have helped you but we thought you were going to kill him."

"Yeah," I say. "So did I."

"Can we go now?" asks Rashnid moodily. Jak gives me his hand and I grasp it. Once I'm up, the three of us start to walk back to the Cornucopia. We don't look back, even when I hear the hovercraft picking up the girl from District Ten – the real murderer of the frail sister – and poor Skira. We give no sign that we've lost anyone important to us. But I know there will be no more conversations of things at home. Our storyteller is gone.

"Man, I don't want to know what Hulde will say about Skira and Kayn."

"We'll try to say it tactfully. It was Kayn's fault anyway. He was the one who killed her after losing his temper. Right, Jewel?"

I don't answer. Jak's words have triggered something in me. It was Kayn's fault. He lost his temper. He killed her.

Kayn's never been an easy-going person but I've seen him lose his temper countless times before and it's never been violent. Something's changed. Something about him. The old Kayn would never have gotten so irritated over something he couldn't control. And he would never have killed someone over it. Before the Games he would never have been so violent.

My next thought makes me sick to the core: I lost my temper too. And I know that, before the Games, Kayn would not have tried to kill someone because he lost his temper. But before the Games, I wouldn't have either. Kayn's not the only one who's changed. I have too.

And I'm not sure I like who I'm becoming.