I crawl out of the water when I see that I've reached the bank where I floated to last time. I walk slightly into the woods to find my tree again. It's a good thing I left most of my clothes here, because now I can immediately change into something warm. I put my pants, shirt, sweater, and jacket back on, and feel much better. I'm too tired, physically and emotionally, to do much else today, so I just wait in my tree, staring at nothing, for sundown. I eat a couple eggs, but my stomach still feels hollow.

In the evening, when the Capitol anthem starts to play, signaling the day's recap, I force myself to watch the pictures of the dead. I see the faces of Yohan, who was from District 1, the three young tributes, from Districts 2, 3, and 9, and Lulu, from District 10.

That's five tributes I've killed. No—I didn't kill them—the Capitol did, but I came up with the plan to use the bear. I can't believe that I lead five innocent children to their deaths! Wait—I have to stop thinking like this. This is just the type of thinking that Litta warned me about all those days ago. I can't let the Capitol get into my head—which is just what's happening.

For days I've had these two sides of my brain fighting against each other for control. One moment I'll be convinced I'm a murderer just like I was after I'd killed the girl from District 8 on the second day of the Games, but the next I'll be blaming everything on the Capitol. And after that, I'll be scolding myself for being an insensitive killer, and the next moment I'll become very homesick and vow to end the Games as soon as possible. Which can only be done by killing everyone else. Sometimes I think I'm going insane.

Just when I assume that the recap is over and the screen in the sky is about to flicker off, a voice catches my attention.

"Good evening remaining tributes!" It's the booming voice of Rex Sparkson, the interviewer from the Capitol. "Congratulations on advancing this far in the first annual Hunger Games. I hope you are all listening to this announcement, because it may be the difference between your life and death. Now—each one of you need something desperately, be it a material object, or just an opportunity. Therefore, you are invited to a feast. Courtesy of the Capitol, you will each be given what you need if you arrive at this feast. It will be held at the cornucopia at 9 o'clock sharp next morning. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

Then, with a flourish of music, the Capitol emblem, which had been displayed in the sky throughout the message, disappears. A feast. This is something Decima hadn't told me about beforehand. Maybe it was supposed to be a surprise that even the escorts didn't know about. Anyway, I definitely need an opportunity. I have no idea where the other tributes are—the arena is so big, and there're only two others beside myself left, Douglas and the boy from District 7. This will provide me with a definite place to find them.

Maybe an end to the Games is in sight. I've been in the arena for what seems like so long that I think I've forgotten what home is like. To reassure myself, I try to picture the inside of my house; maybe it'll make me feel better, knowing I might be there soon. But I can't. As hard as I try to remember, all I can see in my mind is the vague outline of a room with a wooden table in the center. I can't even remember if the tablecloth, which Grandma had embroidered years ago, was blue or green or some other color entirely! This is really scaring me—I can't recall anything. What has the arena done to my mind?

I fall into a fitful sleep, and have my worst nightmare ever.

I'm walking down a windy street, but I'm lost. The cracked, gray sidewalk and the buildings lining it are completely foreign to me. The gusts of wind are blisteringly cold against my face, and I can barely keep my eyes open, let alone walk forward. It seems as if I'm not moving anywhere even though I'm trying to move my feet faster and faster.

Then, to my right, I see a van parked by the curb. Good, a warm place to rest, I think to myself. I open the door to the driver's side, and get in the seat. It really is much warmer in there, and fortunately, no one else is inside. For some reason, I decide to start driving. Maybe I can get to whatever my destination is faster. I don't know how I learned to drive a car, but the motions come naturally as I put my hands on the wheel and press down on the pedal.

The van starts to move slowly down the street. This is easy, I think, I'm pretty good at driving. Then I start to go slightly faster. And faster. And faster still, until I'm speeding down the street. And I don't know how to stop the van. I'm really scared now, as the van screeches around corners, propelled by some force other than myself. I'm going way to fast to be safe.

And then the van skids, and lurches forward. I'm thrown forwards and out of my seat. When my face presses against the front window, I look out and see my parents lying dead on the ground before me.

I've killed them this time.

Yay, we're getting very close to the end of the Games!