A/N: I could either be studying for my last two finals or I could write another chapter. Since you're reading this, I think you can tell which of those options I chose…

Thanks to and Zoey-DeThug for reviewing!

: Annie just used the sword stuck in the wall to help her climb over; it's most likely sitting with the rest of the Career's supplies and weapons. Glare might even be using it. Annie didn't take it with her. Sorry if that part was confusing.

And for anybody who couldn't tell what happened to Annie's arm in the last chapter, she dislocated her shoulder. I never explicitly stated what happened so I felt like I should clear that up. Let me tell you, dislocating a joint hurts like hell. I dislocated my knee once when my parents weren't home, and I literally lay on the ground for two hours, not being able to place any weight on my leg because of the pain. Thankfully, it popped back into place by accident and the pain went away completely. But still…not an experience I'd like to repeat.

That ramble was rather pointless. Anyways, to the story…

I didn't remember when I fell asleep. One moment, I was crying. The next, I was waking up to the sight of sunlight piercing into my shelter and my water stained outfit. "I cried a lot," I remarked in my head, as I examined my outfit. My shirt was drenched, and even my pants were wet. "There's no way I could've cried that much," I thought.

My eyes began adjusting to the light better, and I could see more of my shelter. Then I realized I was right. I hadn't cried that much, not enough to soak my entire outfit and cover my shelter with an inch of water. I turned and discovered the water's source. A small amount of water was leaking out of the gray wall at the back of my shelter. The amount seemed insignificant, I hadn't even noticed last night. But since my shelter was lower than its surrounding area, the water had built up significantly.

And then I realized that there was water flowing in from the outside too. "There must be a small leak somewhere else than," I thought. This revelation only confused me, though. There was water on the other side of the wall? And what was causing the wall to crack?

Curious, I dipped my hand into the water. I didn't even have to taste it to know that it was salt water. I'd spent so much time in water I sometimes could distinguish the two at just a glance. And in this case, all it took was a touch. Unfortunately, my conclusion meant that the water wasn't safe to drink, meaning I'd have to keep relying on berries and cactuses for hydration.

The sudden snapping noise of my trap being sprung brought me back to reality. Suddenly, the realization of the situation I was in and the events of the night before came back to me and hit me over the head like a bag of bricks. I nearly burst into tears again, but I'd already gone through a year's supply and I could only cry for so long before my body refused to relinquish any more water.

My mind was absolutely scattered, and the memory of what had happened the night before made me completely forget about the fact that my trap had just been sprung. That is, until the person in said trap began thrashing about wildly and screaming.

It took me less than a second to realize who it was: Stark.

I was already beginning to shake, and I slowly moved my trembling hand to my boot as Stark continued to thrash uncontrollably. I was so jittery that I nearly dropped my knife into the water once I had pulled it out, but I retained enough composure to keep a grip on the knife and pull myself out of the shelter.

Stark's eyes were like daggers, and his glance sent a cold chill down my spine. He was shouting at me angrily, furiously. I knew he hated me, and I know now that he was trying to scare me into letting my guard down. But I don't recall a single word that he said. All I could feel was the hatred I felt towards him.

He was evil. He killed mercilessly and without emotion. He didn't feel remorse, or sympathy. He was the anti-me, and I hated almost everything about him. He had decapitated Nolan with a fucking hammer! How was I supposed to feel? I didn't even realize that decapitating someone with a hammer was possible, but now the sight from that night kept repeating in my head.

I'd never felt so heated before. I was slowly letting my emotions take over my body. The anger, frustration, and hatred kept boiling up and I realized that I was close to hitting a breaking point. But I didn't make any attempt to cool myself up. My grip on my knife grew tighter, the mere sight of Stark continuing to build my emotions. His words kept bouncing off of me but I could see the look of absolute evil in his eyes. I didn't need to hear his words. By the look in his eyes, I already knew how much venom they carried.

My trap was extremely well built, but Stark was strong. He was beginning to pull himself out of the trap, but I just continued to stand there, eyes locked with his, fuming. And then, I finally heard him, "You're going to get it! Once I get out of here, I'll be sure to kill you painfully. Just like I killed your little buddy Nolan!"

That was my breaking point. That was what sent me over the edge.

Stark had almost gotten himself out of the trap when I attacked. The look in his eyes changed to one of shock. Shock that I was attacking, shock at my expression, and shock at the realization that he himself might not make it out alive. I remember the brutal sound of a knife piercing human skin, the agonizing sound of Stark's scream, the sheer amount of blood that covered the ground, and the pathetic look of pleading on Stark's face as he realized that he was going to die.

The pleading look made me hate him more; as if he thought that mercy should suddenly be required when he's the one in pain. Why should he be denied the same cruelty that he had dealt to so many others? Stark managed to add being the world's largest hypocrite to the list of horrible things he'd accomplished before the life left his eyes.

I continued to stab him long after he was dead. The powerful emotions that overtook me were impossible to control.

But soon, the hovercraft came and took Stark's body away, leaving me trembling in the fetal position and lying in a pool of Stark's blood with a vice grip on the knife I had just used to kill him. I'd killed him, and it felt so…empowering.

But that was the reason I was trembling in the fetal position. Deep down, I knew I shouldn't be feeling that way. It was wrong to take joy in the brutal killing of another. I had thought of Stark as a hypocrite, but what did that make me? I had hated Stark for killing with joy and without mercy, but what had I just done? I had butchered him, enjoyed it, and even mocked him for thinking that he somehow deserved mercy.

What was I becoming? Stark had pushed me to a breaking point, but killing him pushed me past a completely different, a scarier one.

Although I knew that lying out in the open processing my emotions wasn't a smart move, I couldn't bring myself to do anything else. Suddenly, the importance of staying alive paled in comparison to sorting out the moral dilemma I was facing. Was I going crazy?

The small amount of sanity I still had told me to get back inside my shelter. Using all the strength I could muster, I literally dragged myself into my water filled shelter. I used my knife and began to randomly scratch at the rock. It certainly wasn't a productive use of my time, but it was distracting.

The awful sound of metal against rock allowed me to detach myself from my thoughts, but I couldn't detach myself completely. I couldn't forget about what I had just done, the overflow of emotions I had experienced like never before, the brutal murder I had just committed, and the monster I felt like I was turning into.

I felt evil. I felt like I was worse than Stark. I felt like that my single act of killing was worse than the several killings he had committed. Even if that wasn't true, and even if I came to different conclusions later, at that moment my brain was so overloaded that I couldn't think straight. My brain was literally fried, I couldn't process anything correctly.

I was experiencing a complete sensory overload. I was so overcome with different, conflicting emotions that I eventually couldn't force myself to continue cutting into the rock. Even if I was blowing my feelings out of proportion, it didn't feel like it at the time.

Eventually, I couldn't take it any longer. I let out a long, painful, heart-wrenching scream before falling unconscious.

I woke up later from a lack of oxygen. My head had become completely submerged underwater and my angry lungs had forced me awake. I quickly pulled my head up and gasped for breath, relieving my lungs. My shelter was several inches underwater and I realized that it was probably time to abandon. I pulled myself out of the shelter, going underwater in the process, and tried to think of what to do next.

The overflow of emotions I had experienced from the previous events that day had dissipated after my nap. Instead of a rush of dozens of conflicting emotions overpowering my every thought, there were only two emotions that remained: sadness and guilt.

I felt sad about everything, and guilty about everything. I felt sad about what happened, and I felt guilty because I convinced myself that it was somehow my fault that it had happened. Certain emotions may not make sense in hindsight, but in the moment, they're what you feel. And unless you properly contextualize those emotions, you often times can't move past them. That's what happened to me. I was thinking much clearer than I was earlier, I was focused on my survival and I wasn't scratching at rock, but I wasn't able to get past my sadness and guilt.

I did decide, however, that I would try to put as much of what happened. Mulling over events that had already occurred wasn't going to help me deal with events that were happening now. Despite my emotions, survival had once again returned as my primary objective. I just needed to figure out what my next move was.

"Tributes!" boomed Caesar, "There will be a Feast tomorrow morning at the cornucopia! I strongly recommend that you all attend! You each have the opportunity to obtain an item that you will all desperately need in the very near future…"

I wasn't sure what Caesar meant by "an item that you will all desperately need in the very near future" but I had calculated my next move: staying as far away from the Feast as possible!

A/N: Yay, another chapter! I wanted to post another chapter in my new story too, but it looks like I won't have time considering I need to study for finals tomorrow as well. Though feel free to check it out! I've only completed a prologue, but I can't wait to add to it! It builds on an idea I came up when writing this story. It's called Revelations. Once again, thanks to anyone who's reviewed this or added to their alerts and favorites. Reviews especially are always greatly appreciated!