"No way," Ellie tells me, and Tyler nods. "You're absolutely exhausted. You're sleeping."

"Fine," I submit. I am tired - very. I curl up, and sleep.

A few hours later, I wake. Ellie and Tyler are talking quickly and quietly, huddled together.

"We can't do this! Are you mad? We're in an arena, fighting to the death! Only one of us can win, Ellie, and they're not going to pull a rabbit out of the reaping bowl and change the rules!"

"But I love you."

"So do I," Tyler says, and there are tears in his eyes. "But we can't all get out alive! Besides, you promised we'd save her!" He points to me.

"But she always ends up saving us," Ellie says quietly. "Let's count the times she's saved our skins."

"No, it's embarrassing being saved by a twelve year-old."

"She's not really twelve," Ellie replies. "Inside, she's our age, older even. It's awful." Tyler nods.

"Can't the whole group that remains win?"

"Nope. I doubt we'd make it anyway."

"We have to," replies Ellie. She leans over, and meets Tyler's lips. Whilst they're busy, I sidle into the bushes for a crap. It's not my biggest problem, figuring out how to go for a poop without the cameras airing it live, but it's embarrassing.

"Could I have five?" I ask the tree, where I know a camera is stationed. Then I grin.

"What are you saying?" yells Ellie from Tyler's arms.

"Just telling Caesar to make sure they don't air me pooping!"

A couple of minutes later, I straighten up and wave to the camera. "Ah, that's better!" My mother is definitely shaking her head in disbelief.

We pass the day eating, sleeping, getting water and even dancing. Yeah, we're bored.

"We should go hunt down the Careers," Tyler suggests. "Like Maria said. Before they give us another storm or something."

And so we do.

I hurry to get water, and when I return they are talking again - hushed, fast voices. But it's not loving, they're fighting, and quite viciously at that. Ellie draws my bow, arrow pointed at Tyler's chest, and Tyler pulls out the spear. Some body is going to die. I listen, frozen in horror.

"Might as well," says Ellie. "As you said, only one of us can win, and you're planning for it to be you, aren't you sweetheart?"

"No - I-!" Tyler protests. Her finger moves on the string, about to release the arrow, when I leap out of the bushes between them. She tries to stop, but she's already set it in motion. The arrow punctures my arm and I drop to the ground in agony, suppressing screams. I clutch the grass as she sends an arrow into Tyler's brain. I give up and scream.

"What did you do that for?" I yell, tears falling.

"Maria," Tyler whispers. I'm bleeding all over him, but I kneel beside him and hug him. "You tried your best, thank you." A tear slips, and his cannon fires.

Time is frozen. There is just me and the dead boy and a flood of regret. Tyler's last words echo in my head. 'You tried your best, thank you.'

I give up and sob over his body. I'd stay there for as long as possible, but Ellie pulls me up.

"It was a game, all a huge lie," she tells me. "You think I loved him? I wanna win." I should kill her now, she has no intention of saving me if the Careers come. But I let it slide, blinded by pain. "I'm sorry I hit you," she tells me. I nod, and she pulls me over to inspect my arm. It's not horrible, but I can't bear pain. She washes it and puts on a bandage, and we get back to the camp.

"I don't think we'll be hunting down any Careers today," I say. She lets me sleep, but I stay awake and plot. I need her until my arm is good, and then she is disposable. I need her by my side to kill the boys, too. Randy Charcoal I can deal with. Yes, my thoughts are cold, but Ellie made it clear she had to win. So, when my arm is better, I will kill her. Now though, I watch her as I watched Skye.

Seeing Tyler's face in the night sky was terrible. The next day, three cannons fire. Natalie Quinn, Katrina Cress and Logan Gnute's faces light up the sky. Six left. They will have done the interviews today.

My family will be hopeful, but that just scares me. I don't want to let them down, and I'm worried that I will.

The next day, I promise myself I will be one step closer to victory.