Day 10

No cannons catch me off guard me this morning. My stomach is furious and I've got hunger cramps, so I drink as much water as I can, hoping it will settle my stomach. It doesn't, so I eat a slice of bread, then another.

District 5 has a reason for allying with Careers. We have the disadvantage of not having any useful skills that we can transfer to the arena. District 7 tributes have been climbing trees their entire lives. District 11 knows about edible plants. District 4 can fish. We also don't know how to be hungry. I'm not underfed but I'm not at a healthy weight either. Ally with with those who have the food or starve. Except if you're me, apparently.

The rest of the morning is spent watching the Ox harvesting food. If only I knew what he was collecting, I could get it too. Three slices of bread a day just doesn't seem rational now.

I hope that there's some action going on somewhere for my sake. If the Capitol gets bored, the Gamemakers will send out mutts or some other obstacle for entertainment. I'm not sure I could survive anything like that.

I've been thinking a lot about Kosynne. It's always there, at the back of my mind, like a shadow. He'll be in District 5 by now, cleaned up from whatever wounds were inflicted on him and shipped off in a wooden box. I'll never see him again. It's eerily similar to Volt and I don't want to think about that right now. I need to stay focused.

I want to go back to the lake to monitor the Careers behaviour, so I walk slowly, keeping my eyes open for anything that I might be able to eat. The only thing I find is a small patch of honeysuckle bushes so I break off the flowers and store them carefully in my satchel. My heart sinks as I pluck the small, sweet blossoms. Over the years, some of the tributes who have no knowledge of edible plants end up eating anything they can get their hands on to: grass, leaves, bark, flowers. It causes them extreme pain if they can't digest it and excreting the waste is agonizing. I will probably end up as one of those half-crazy tributes, unless there are some wild berries or fruits around. Most of them are poisonous and there have been several particularly ghastly poisonings from berries over the years. I remember Cassandra's words, telling me to hold out until the top eight where I can be sponsored. I'm not sure I'll last that long.

I find a berry bush half an hour later but pass it by; it's nightlock. Clever berries that look almost identical to blueberries but will kill you in less than a minute once consumed. The only way to recognize them is to look at the star-shaped bit at the top when you pluck them. Blueberries have five points of the star, nightlock has six.

The Career camp is deserted when I arrive. They've obviously gone out hunting which is really bad news for me. I don't know where they are. For all I know, they could be right behind me. I try not to panic, peeping tentatively over my shoulder to reassure myself. I know that they'll be back here sometime. All I need to do is wait in one spot.

I climb a tall willow as high as I can and sit on one of the branches that overlooks the camp. The sun moves across the sky and there is still no sign of them. I get thirsty so I'm glad I had the sense to bring my water bottle. I hope the water's clean. Last year, a girl drank some contaminated water and for the next 24 hours she underwent intense agony in her guts, before she threw up the entire contents of her stomach and died of dysentery.

The sun sets and there is still no movement. Still nothing when the anthem plays. Even an hour after that, in which I have eaten a slice of bread there is no movement. Eventually I'm so sore from sitting in this tree all day that I get down to stretch my legs.

The Cornucopia reflects the moonlight in the distance. It's eerie. An idea hits me. The Cornucopia might still have some supplies left in it. I sneak through the forest to the Cornucopia, flashlight in one hand. I check for anyone sneaking around, then sprint across the battlefield of holes to the mouth of the horn. No luck. The entire thing has been picked clean. Just a pile of empty bags and crates. Well, that's not entirely true. I shine my flashlight into the far, dark corners of the Cornucopia and in every nook and cranny of the crates. There's a heavily dented tin of something in one corner and a small pair of gloves under a large crate. Gleefully, I add the tin, which looks like a ready-to-eat meal of spaghetti and meatballs and the gloves to my satchel. I hope the cameras are focused on me. Potential sponsors need to see how I can scavenge. The irony is that the ones who can fend for themselves the most are the ones who get the most sponsors.

As I emerge the mouth, my eye catches the mountain of supplies, illuminated like a pale, white bonfire. If only I were able to get my hands on those.

Then it hits me.

I might be able to.

It would be risky but there's little chance I'll get out of here alive anyway. If I'm doomed to die I want it to be quick, not a sadistic death that the Careers will have in store for me.

After studying the ground meticulously, I conclude that the mines actually can be avoided. I race to the mountain of supplies and examine the mines. I remember back to what happened yesterday. As far as I can recall, the piles of dirt are safe but anything to the left of them is dangerous. The dirt piles would leave conspicuous footprints though. I imagine then, that anything in front or behind the dirt piles would be safe. In front would be safer still, since I'm less likely to overshoot than undershoot. So I hop very cautiously, one foot after the other until I reach the base of the mountain. As quick as a fox, I snatch a pack the dangles from a chest, reverse my steps and disappear into the forest, my heart throbbing in relief and exhilaration. It's a miracle I survived that.

Once I reach my willow, I examine the bounty. Initially I was just hoping for a larger place to put my stuff, since my satchel is small and uncomfortable to run in. Now I realize that the Careers may have noticed the absence of this dark red backpack. I'm hoping they haven't familiarized themselves with their supplies yet. Inside the pack is a modest first aid kit, a coil of fishing wire, three puffy fruit buns and five fist sized apples. I smile and that's when I first notice that I'm shivering. The run warmed me up but the heat has left me and even though the material of my jacket reflects heat, I feel the cold night chill my sweaty face.

I transfer my possessions to the backpack and try to lay down in the bed of grass under the willow. It's no use. I am shivering like crazy within a few minutes and my breath is fogging the air around me. I can imagine Volt now, his numbing pain clear in my head. This thought keeps me awake. Keeps my heart beating. No, I will not die. Not tonight. I need to leave in case the Careers find me but I literally can't move so I don my gloves and the hood of my jacket and curl up in a hollow of the tree instead, waiting for the night to end.