The cannon fire was like the growl of the crocodile. I froze at the sound and my heart started to race, so fast that I thought it might break my ribs. My lungs were stiff and breathing was painful. I could barely comprehend what had just happened.

I had killed a boy.

I had taken a life without a second of hesitation.

I was a murderer.

The worst bit was that I didn't feel bad. I didn't feel anything. He had been going to hit me again so I killed him. I hadn't care that such an act should get me a life sentence in the real world. I hadn't cared about anything really, except getting the axe to stick in his forehead. In the face of death, or at least pain, I had committed a crime to save myself. I was most upset about the fact that I would do it again, in a heartbeat.

My legs felt like rubber as I moved towards the fallen tribute. I had to get my axe back before the Capitol claimed the body and my weapon. I had never been so nervous before. I felt like vomiting but knew that I had to maintain my composure. If I ever hoped for sponsor support, they couldn't think that I couldn't handle death.

As I knelt down beside the body and reached for the handle of the axe, I couldn't help but imagine that it was me that had just died; that I was lying in the murky wetlands water with a weapon protruding from my body. Would my murderer be kind enough to just take their weapons and leave? Or would they be like that tribute, years ago, who decided it wasn't enough to kill but they also had to eat their victim? Would my killer laugh over my demise or show my lifeless body the respect it deserved?

I couldn't change what my killer would do to me but I knew what I was going to do. I pulled the axe from the tributes body and washed the blade in the brown water. My main concern was making sure that Raze didn't know I had these and I prayed that he wouldn't show up as I stowed the axe in my belt.

After hiding the axe I checked over my shoulder to find that I was still alone. So I pulled out one of the throwing knives and pressed the flat side of the blade to the tributes head wound. Once I thought the blade was sufficiently bloody, I turned around and headed back to where I'd last seen Raze. I wasn't sure whether it was necessary to go to as much effort as I was but I figured it was best to be thorough.

As I walked away, I slowly started work on cleaning the knife, as a hovercraft came into view above my head.

The cannon sounded again just as Raze came into view, he was proudly standing over a huddled mass and trying to dislodge the spear that had skewered the poor tribute. I hadn't finished cleaning the knife, so at the sight of Raze's 'victory', I bent forward and cleaned it properly in the water. Anything to convince him this was the weapon that killed the boy from District Nine.

Raze's laugh made me look up, "Apparently you're a better shot than I gave you credit for."

I didn't laugh. I didn't find any of this funny. Maybe I had been training for the Arena for my whole life but there was a difference between training and then actually doing; and unlike Raze, I didn't like the 'actual' part. This was something that I had only recently considered, the idea that I couldn't kill in the Games. Well, clearly I could but I didn't like it. In killing District Nine I felt like I had betrayed some part of me. I could see my actions haunting me for the rest of my life, if I ever got out of here and had a life to continue living.

"Can we head back now?"

Raze noticed my tone, "What? Do you have a problem with dead bodies?"

I didn't say anything. I knew that my silence would probably only confirm it, in Raze's mind, but I didn't care. The only thing that I could think of was getting away from this psychopath. It pained me to think but all I wanted was to be back with Cal, in the safety of his presence. It pained me because I felt like I was being unfaithful to Cato.

Which was weird because I wasn't entirely sure if there was anything official between me and Cato. We had kissed the last time we saw each other but neither of us had actually said anything about being 'together'. For reasons that I didn't quite understand, I really liked Cato. Almost as much as I liked Cal which, considering that I'd only known him for a couple of months was exceptional. It had taken a year for me to realise that I liked Cal even half as much as I already like Cato.

Why does this all have to be so confusing?

I blamed it on Raze not letting Mineek volunteer. I blamed it on the Games. If it weren't for those two things then I wouldn't be back in the presence of someone that I would always love but never be able to be with.

I hated my life at the moment.

Raze turned away from his victim and I moved to follow him. I wasn't thinking straight and walked a little too close to the body. It caught my attention and I felt like I was going to be sick.

The boy from District Eleven looked almost like he was asleep, apart from the series of gashes and the giant hole in his chest. His body was submerged in the murky water and it gave him a strange orange-brown tint.

In the blink of an eye he disappeared.

To be replaced by a man that was almost thirty years older than him. He had scruffy black hair and bright ocean blue eyes that seemed to shine through the murk of the wetlands. His skin was weathered and pale in his death, darkened only around his jaw where he had stubble that was a few days old. He opened his mouth to speak to me but only bubbles came out.

I stumbled away from my father and tripped over something in the water. A few feet away I could hear Raze laughing. As I got back to my feet I glanced at the body, it was the boy again and I sighed in relief. I had been here two days and already I was seeing things, it was not a good sign.

As Cal had recommended, I stayed behind Raze all the way back to the Cornucopia. I could see the obvious relief on Cal's face when he saw that I was alive. I couldn't be as happy as he was and I instantaneously excused myself, claiming I needed to wash off my clothes before they started to rot. They were still dirty with mud and grim from yesterdays wrestling match with the crocodile, as there was nowhere nearby that had fresh water to wash with.

We had assumed that there was a lake to the west because we could just see a waterfall amongst the cliff faces. It was barely midday so I knew I'd have plenty of time to go check out the waterfall and get back before it got dark. No one tried to stop me so I didn't hesitate.

It took even less time than I thought it would to get to the waterfall. The expanse of flat field was deceptive and the mountain itself was closer than it looked, and even smaller. There was a lake at the bottom and it was larger than I had thought it would be. The water in the lake was crystal clear, which was surprising considering that it connected to the wetlands. But there was a small waterfall between the two which seemed to divide the slow moving water of the lake from the stagnant water of the wetlands. It had to be the work of the Gamemakers because I had never heard of such a relationship between lakes and wetlands.

I was cautious around the water. There was no knowing what sort of creepy crawlies were in there. There could be more crocodiles or even large predatory fish. The Gamemakers could not be trusted and I wouldn't put it past them to entice tributes with clean looking water only to have it chock full of killer creatures.

I removed my shoes, pants and shirt. I wanted to inspect the aches that plagued my body as I hadn't been able to do that yesterday. My left calf was horridly discoloured, marred with a gruesome yellow and purple bruise that reached from ankle to knee on the outside of my leg. I had bruises and scratches everywhere else but my calf was the worst. I was surprised that I could still walk on it considering how dark and painful it looked.

It didn't take long to wash the mud from my khaki uniform and once I was done I sat in the shallows as the clothes dried on some rocks behind me. The water was cool and refreshing and I sat in silence, staring out along its glossy surface as the sun started to sink towards the western horizon.

"What happened to your cheek?"

I ran my hand down my face as if trying to wipe away my annoyance at being disturbed and felt the sharp pain that was the left side of my face. My cheek smarted and a sharp sting told me that there was a deep split in the skin. My teeth and even the bone of my jaw ached, I hadn't realised that District Nine had done that much damage. I guessed it was like my calf, a bad looking injury that I hadn't noticed was that bad.

"District Nine." I mumbled and dropped my hand from my face.

Cal walked up beside me and sat in the water with his clothes on. Unlike me, he had managed to keep his clothes fairly clean. He hadn't been into the wetlands yet and so the only things on his clothes were sweat and a little blood. In a familiar display of concern he removed his shirt and turned my head so that I was looking at him.

He smiled at me and raised his bunched up shirt towards my cheek, "We don't want it getting infected."

"Don't." I sighed as I pulled away from him.

It was bad enough that we were both in the Games but his determination to interact with me was making it hard. Soon enough he would start talking about our past relationship and our break up, and I didn't think that I could handle that conversation. Cal liked talking things through and that was partly why we'd broken up. He always wanted to know why and he wanted to know straight away. I found that hard because I often didn't have answers straight away.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the hurt that spread across his face and I hated the thought that I was hurting him. Again.

Cal took a deep breath, "I'm just trying to help."

I shook my head, "I don't want help."

"Even if you need it?"

I went to rub my face again but thought better of it. Last night I had had a lapse of judgement in letting myself get too close to Cal again, and it seemed that he had assumed that I was interested in being around him. His presence hurt but how did I tell him that without upsetting him. I don't think I could handle hurting him again, knowing that someday soon at least one of us was going to die.

"Especially if I need it." I sighed and had to look to my right so that I couldn't see Cal at all.

Cal laughed a soft laugh and in my mind's eye I could see him shaking his head, "No one would think less of you for accepting some assistance."

I sighed, yet again, "It's not about that. You can't help me."

There was a short pause before Cal asked, "What happened out there?"

The concern in Cal's voice was so sincere that my heart felt like it was about to melt. There had never been any doubt in my mind that Cal loved me, although I had never entirely understood why. He was such a sweet guy and I... well, I wasn't sweet. We were so different that sometimes it had felt like it was only a matter of time before one of us found someone more suitable.

"I killed a guy. He hit me with a stick so I killed him."

It was Cal's turn to sigh, "You didn't have a choice."

"No one here does." I snapped; it wasn't that I was angry with him, it was more that I was angry with myself for spilling my guts to the guy that not moments before I had wanted distance from, "And that's going to be me soon. Facing down my killer and praying that they aren't going to succeed."

Again Cal laughed and I turned to glare at him. He smiled broadly at me, "You got an eleven. According to the Gamemakers, you're the least likely to die. Why do you doubt them?"

"Because it's the Hunger Games and skill only gets you so far. It's luck that gets the victory."

"Well, I'd still bet on you. I think everyone else has used up their quota of luck for one lifetime. It's about time that your family got a little bit." I furrowed my brow and looked at Cal with the most quizzical expression that I could muster. He continued, "You lost your mother at twelve, your father at sixteen and now, at barely seventeen, you're in the Hunger Games. You deserve some luck and I'm sure that it's coming."

I rubbed my nose carefully, trying not to touch my cheek, "What about you? You never knew your mother and your brother died in the Games when you were six. Don't you deserve some luck?"

"I've had more than my fair share of luck over the last few years." he smiled at me but I just stared back. He shook his head as he started to explain, "When I was ten, I met my best friend. He and his family welcomed me with open arms, almost as if I was one of them. Through him, I met the most amazing young woman. She was... sorry, she is brilliant and I was lucky enough for her to actually notice me. I was then really lucky that her brother, my best friend, didn't beat the shit out of me for... umm... how do I put it? 'Defiling' his sister."

The use of the word defiling was enough to pull me out of my dark thoughts, "Eww! Don't put it like that. That's just gross." I smiled at him, "Anyway, you were the innocent one out of the two of us. Sixteen years old and never had a serious girlfriend, it was really kind of sad."

"Hey... you know it was hard getting girls to notice me when I was standing next to your brother. Sometimes I think the only reason you noticed me was because well... he was your brother."

We were getting way to close to the topic that I'd wanted to avoid. But the conversation seemed to have the sort of momentum that wouldn't let me stop the topic from starting. If things kept going this way then we'd be there in about three sentences and if I tried to skip it then we'd probably get there even quicker. I hated the Games for putting me in this situation.

I decided to give in to the inevitable, "You don't give yourself enough credit. You're a great guy, any girl would be lucky to have you hold their hand. God knows I was."

"As I said before, I'm the one who was lucky. The only thing that I have going for me is that I'm above average looking. You are smart, funny, interesting and pretty."

I had never liked it when Cal made me sound so much better than I was. We'd always had very different opinions on each other's merits. I watched Cal with an exasperated expression, "I'm also bitter, opinionated and unaffectionate. How you tolerated me is beyond me."

The way Cal looked at me, made me want to swim out to the middle of the lake and float face down for the next hour; or until my cannon sounded. I could see the affection in his eyes, that glow that signified he still loved me. And I hated it. I wanted him to hate me for breaking up with him but I was clearly not lucky enough for that. Maybe he was right and I was due for some luck.

"I'll give you opinionated, but not bitter and unaffectionate. You just need to know how to interpret your actions. You were never one for public displays of emotion, none of your family are. That's not the same as unaffectionate." He tried to wipe my face with his shirt again but I pushed his hand away.

"Okay, you keep telling yourself that. But I'd really appreciate it if we ended this conversation here. This isn't the time or the place." I had never realised how much a conversation like this could hurt and the thought that people could be watching it was extra disturbing.

Cal nodded, "Of course. I brought you some food. Are you hungry?"

"Very." I smiled and pushed off the soft bank of the lake.