OUR DAILY SONG INSPIRATION!

Don't wanna stand up outside your window
But you just never know
The current … my past … by me
But you just never know

If my velocity starts to make you sweat
Then just don't let go
And if (the?) heaven ain't got a vacancy
Then we just, then we just, then we just
Then we just get up and go!

-Planetary Go by My Chemical Romance

DAY 3:

I walk in a straight line, in the darkness of the swamp. My coil of rope is belted at my waist, Barley Dawson's scythe hanging from it. My knives are all tucked in the various pockets in the uniformed jacket that came with this simple but plain outfit. It's midday and I'm hungry but there hasn't been much food here in the swamp.

There's a rustling noise above and I immediately duck into a bush, survival instincts taking over me. I look upwards and smile to myself. There are a flock of plump grooslings nesting on the branches just a little up my head. There are about a dozen of them, all oblivious to the fact that they are going to be my dinner.

I quickly tie a knife at the end of my rope and position it. I swing it around and around and aim for the fattest groosling who's mating with a female from his species. I let go of the rope and it finds its mark, hitting the groosling straight in the eye. His flock flies off in surprise and fear but the bird that I hit falls from the branch and lands on the ground. I run to it quickly and skin it, discarding the carcass under a pile of leaves in order not to leave tracks.

I make a small fire, blowing out the coals that would make it bigger, and start roasting the groosling, which I had put on a makeshift spit. I like my meat well-done so I take extra time cooking it. When it's done, the grease runs down my chin as I bite into it. Damn…I've never had a whole bird to myself.

I stamp out my fire and brush some foliage and moss over it, to cover my tracks. I continue on walking, determined to get to the end of this arena and whatever lies after the swamp. I know it's dangerous, especially since I don't have water but I have to take my chances. The Careers are sure to be wandering around the swamp right now.

It's midnight and my throat is sore. My eyelids are heavy and drooping and my tongue feels like sandpaper against the roof of my mouth. The little urine I had been able to pass up was a little over on the brown side. I have to find water quick or die of dehydration.

I continue on walking, although my steps are already slow. It's another thirty minutes before I come onto the border between the swamp and a…forest.

My eyes widen as I take in the lake. Mustering up the little strength that I had, I run to it and plunge my whole body down its cool waters. It's refreshing and I take off my clothes and waddle around some more. I splash my face, rubbing off all the grime and the blood from my body with a rough stone I found on the banks.

Finally, I taste the water with the tip of my tongue and wait for a few more minutes. I don't have iodine to be able to purify it and I don't think it's poisonous anyway. I take some water in my hands and take a hesitant gulp and wait another thirty minutes, thinking to myself that I would probably keel over and die.

But it's a miracle that I don't and I continue on gulping down the water until I'm hiccupping. The sun's rays are just coming up on the horizon when I put on all my clothes and lie on the shores with my back against the soft grass. The sun hits my face and I climb a nearby tree, belting myself in with the rope.

Tired and full of fatigue, I close my eyes and fall asleep.

DAY 7:

I watch the faces at the huge screen, kids that I will never see again…Kids who have families and friends waiting for them back home will be eating dinner tonight, upset and in mourning. I drop down to the soft grass and put my head in my hands. It's been a few days and I haven't seen anyone yet. There must have been fights going all over the arena that the game makers are too busy to even notice me for being all alone in the second part of the arena, the forest.

It's a good thing too. It's what I need to plan my next move.

I carefully map out in my head what I am going to need for my next move. A lot of moss, leaves, a couple of sticks, fire and water. I move deeper inside the forest, gathering up the largest leaves and the thickest moss. I am able to gather an armload of this before heading back to my camping grounds.

It's dusk by the time I am able to find my way back to camp. I haul all the things I have gathered to the edge of the lake, stopping to pick up a few sticks along the way. There's a huge stone by the water's edge that is full of flint. I had spotted it earlier and decided that it has the right amount of flint to be able to start a fire.

I take out my knife and untie it from my rope. Taking a deep breath, I position its serrated blade over the lump on my arm where the Capitol doctors inserted the tracker. I know that it is going to be very deep inside my arm but I have to do this if I want to get home. I know I can easily be defeated for my weakness and the fact that I have no weapons but maybe I can outsmart my opponents. Most of them rely too much on their strength that they forget that brute force has to bow down to wisdom most of the time too.

I take a deep breath and another before pricking the lump with the tip of the blade. It sends a wave of pain through me and I gasp, gritting my teeth. I grip the handle tighter and continue to prick it deeper onto my skin until I can see the flash of silver from the tracker. I quickly bring the blade down until I have made a five-inch vertical slash on my arm.

Waves of pain hit me and I almost cry out in agony but I clench my teeth together. Taking another deep breath, I take a firm hold of the tracker and pull it out with all my might out of my arm.

The pain elevates and I can see spots of red before my eyes. I want to collapse on the soft ground but I forced myself not to. Blood begins pouring out of the gash, running down the grass. I scoop water shakily with my hands and begin to bathe the wound, using the moss and the leaves as a makeshift bandage. After what seemed like an eternity of blood and agony, the gush of red stops.

I throw the tracker into the lake, watching the surface bubble and the tiny chip slowly sink down to the bottom.

What's done is done. The game makers would probably assume that I was dead or something. The cameras wouldn't be able to find me.

I would just have to outlast the others.

POINTS:

ThePrettyReckless: 230 points

MaryaBadicia: 115 points

zDarkAngels: 20 points

I . LOVE. ACTION: 145 points

PuppyLove2004: 115 points

Hungergames8: 150 points

DV Anime Productions: 35 points

carynnn: 35 points

Lovez Harry Potter: 125 points

ignorant . little . fluffy . tail: 85 points

icy . hearted . angel: 20 points

moonlightoftwilight: 205 points

Cloudy-TheNightMareQueen: 35 points

Ryan Dodge: 55 points

Retrak52-Nylasor52: 135 points

Jonas Remus: 55 points

xmiichelleyx: 180 points

LotsOfBooksLuver: 15 points

I am the FIRE: 70 points

Aylona: 25 points

chocolateorange123: 235 points

The unknown banana: 10 poiints

aireagle92: 10 points

Bibliophile1318: 75 points

I heart manga 89: 50 points

Marigold Dove: 170 points

Snowstorm XD: 30 points

Loves2ReadandStuff: 65 points

Hungergames-Chlerek-lover: 55 points

aliciamaybrandonjones: 25 points

Death Toll

Shimmerly Tark: District 1

Luke Farhills: District 2

Thomas Vesper: District 5

Daniel Cartham: District 9

Jacob Dunham: District 13

Dimitri Retnov, District 8

Feryl, District 11

Tomasia Everthorne, District 6

Barley Dawson, District 11

Stephen Fray, District 1

Zooey Castiel, District 2

Brianna Sanders, District 3

Jarrick Flint, District 10

Elyse Emmington, District 10

Kale Teller, District 7

Luna Star, District 12

Lena Zaria, District 4

So like I promised, this is an entire chapter in Kale Teller's view point.

I'm taking down the poll and making a new one, by the way.

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