The sun rose, and the air warmed slightly. It was still frigid, and I didn't leave my shelter. I didn't see any reason to in any case. There was warmth and food in here. Out there were tributes and cold.

My plan was interrupted after about ten seconds. It was then I realized that I was absolutely parched, and there was no water in my hole.

I scooted halfway out of my pit and scooped up a handful of snow. I was about to put it in my mouth when I remembered something the shelter-making instructor had said.

"If you need water, don't think you can use snow. It'll just make you thirstier."

I didn't remember the reason, but such a contradictory statement had stuck with me. He'd said something about the water having to be liquid, not snow or ice.

How am I going to melt this? I thought. I couldn't make a fire. I didn't want to attract every one of the other six tributes. Maybe I could use the sun, but I'd need a cup or something. I had a belt bag, some cotton balls, and a compass.

Hold it. I had one more thing.

I dumped out the cotton balls into the belt bag and plopped the snow into the clear bag the cotton balls came in. I pinched the top shut and laid the bag of snow just under the sun just outside my hole.

Nothing happened. I guess I shouldn't have expected the snow to instantly zap into a puddle.

I opened my jar of peanut butter while I waited and twirled a bunch on my finger.

I probably need a lot of food to keep warm, I thought. I licked it off.

Bad idea. It coated my dry tongue like paint and smearing it off was like peeling off a layer of skin. I sat running my tongue over the roof of my mouth and wiping at my lips for a good few minutes.

Now I'm even thirstier. Great.

I poked at the snow every few minutes. A tiny smidge of water sat in one corner, but the rest was stubbornly solid.

"All right, that's it," I said. I grabbed the bag with both hands and squeezed it. The warmth of my hands quickly melted a layer of the snow.

Cornflower, how slow can you be?

I tucked the bag under my shirt. I shuddered and grimaced at the freezing cold against my tender belly, but within a minute I had a nice little puddle of water. It was only half the size of the snowball, but it was better than nothing. I drank it and refilled the bag with twice as much snow, snacking on peanut butter while it melted.

I can just stay here a while. Maybe the whole Games. It won't be comfy but it beats meeting anyone else, I thought.

The Careers were probably out looking for me and the other three tributes. If they were smart they'd hole up in the Cornucopia and wait. Those of us that didn't freeze would starve soon enough.

Every time I shifted I felt my cocoon of body heat slip away. The idea of getting up and facing the bitter cold full-on was unimaginable, so the rest of the day was spent lying on my side in a cramped, chilly hollow. Before I knew it my peanut butter was half gone and the sun was setting. The subtle, nagging pain from the cold kept the boredom away.

No one died today, I thought. I knew I should have been happy, or at least sad that the Games would drag on another day. Somehow I wasn't ready to accept such a peaceful day until it was completely gone. Something would go wrong.

The sun disappeared and the cold returned in force. I looked at my bag of water.

I don't want that by me all night, I thought, so I drank it. I wasn't sure if drinking cold water was a good idea, but I knew drinking no water was. It sat like an ice chunk in my stomach. Hours later I could still feel it.

A wind blew up, and the temperature dipped lower. The Gamemakers were probably trying to spice things up after such a boring day. Even down in my pit, the wind sliced over me and the air felt like jabbing little bursts of needles. I shivered violently and shoved my hands against my stomach. Even my stomach wasn't warm. That didn't seem good. I nestled my head down inside my shirt and covered every possible inch of skin with fabric. It was like trying to sleep in an ice cube. I felt my fingers stiffen, and then my hands and feet. Soon the only movement I could make was the shivering.

A cannon blasted right outside my shelter. I jerked up and heat shot through my veins.

What was that? Did I just die? There is no way death is this cold, I thought. But who was it?

Oh shoot are the Careers out there killing someone? No, even they wouldn't be out in this weather. Someone must have frozen to death right outside my hole. I didn't even hear them. Wait a minute…

I scrambled madly and flopped on the snow outside of my hole. The cold burned my rigid fingers. The air was so frozen it felt like a solid wall of ice. It was dark and the wind stung my eyes, but I could make out the huddled form of a tribute lying against the nearest pine tree. I crawled next to it.

What were you doing outside in the middle of the night? I wanted to shout at it. Instead I grabbed at it and looked it over.

It was a boy, but that was all I could tell in the dark. He wasn't holding anything. I couldn't imagine how he'd survived this long. I grabbed at his pants with wooden fingers and tugged them off his body. Next came the shirt, and then his shoes. I peeled his socks off and crawled back into my hole. I was so cold I didn't have the energy to shiver. Every twitch of my face snapped and crinkled the skin. Only the heat pounding through my body got me back to my hole.

I slid into my pile of pine needles and wrapped the pants around my lower body. The shirt went over my head and I slid my hands into the socks. They were stiff with cold when I first touched them, but my body heat soon softened them. It was still excruciatingly cold, but I managed to start shivering again.

I thought of the boy lying on the ice. I didn't even know his name or what district he was from. He was just another dead tribute now. I hadn't even hesitated to rip the clothes off his body. A hovercraft was probably picking up his defiled corpse now. I wished I'd said something.

I uncurled a teeny bit and peeked at the sliver of snow visible outside my hole.

"Sorry you died," I whispered. "Thank you very much for the clothes."

It didn't seem like enough, but I didn't mean it to be flippant. It was all I had.