I only have sixty seconds to survey my surroundings, but the sheer panic that's been building since the Reaping threatens to burst as I take everything in.

The Cornucopia is massive, and the amount of supplies strewn about is overwhelming. In the mouth, there are tent packs and weapons. I even see a bow, the silver sheath reflects the sunlight almost mockingly. Just the one, but I know it's been put there for me.

I bend my knees in preparation, and turn to assess the closest Tributes. The closest Career is still six Tributes away from me, it's Clove from Two. Bannor is to her right, and his face is white. He's visibly trembling.

When the gong goes off, I launch off of my platform. Twenty yards in, I lean down to scoop up an orange backpack. Twenty-five yards in, I'm suddenly yanked backwards by the strap of my bag.

The boy from District Nine throws me to the side and I stumble, he's keeping his grip tight on the bag's strap. I almost lose my footing, but instead I use the momentum he's given me and kick his leg.

Suddenly, he coughs and splatters blood onto my face. He slips on the grass, and still holding the strap of my bag, he goes down. Clove is advancing, sprinting towards me now. She's carrying a roll of knives, and she never misses. She throws at me next, and I duck completely. The knife embeds itself in the grass above my head.

The boy from Nine is gurgling, still clutching the bag I have slung over my shoulders. I launch myself forwards, yank the knife out of his back, and thrust it into his neck with a shrill cry. He flinches away from me with the last of his strength, and I sprint towards the trees.

I make it about ten yards before I hear the blade whistling as it arcs through the air towards me. Reflexively, I tug my bag up right as I feel the knife thud as it lodges itself into the pack.

Clove cries out in frustration, but she doesn't pursue me further.

I don't stop running until I hear the cannons begin to fire, and I know the bloodbath is over. Panting, I stop to lean against a tree as I listen. Eleven cannons. Eleven families are grieving right now.

Prim wouldn't have survived this. The terror in my chest is so heavy and my lungs could burst from the hours of running I've just endured. I can't imagine how frightened she would've been.

I'm reaching up to wipe the sweat off my forehead when I notice the blood splattered on my arm. There is also blood wiped onto the back of my hand from my face, mixed with my sweat. The knife I'm still gripping in my hand is caked in it.

I gasp and drop the knife. I killed that boy. What is Prim thinking? Peeta? I didn't even hesitate before stabbing him.

Sick to my stomach, I slump against the tree and decide to take the time to sort through my backpack. I'm hoping it will help distract me for a moment. I can't afford to look weak, there are sponsors watching our every move.

Carefully sorting through the contents, I'm disappointed to realize there is a water bottle and it's completely empty. There was a lake near the Cornucopia, and I dread thinking it could be the only water source in the arena.

Right as I begin to panic, a twig snaps nearby. I yank the knife out of the dirt, ready to defend myself, when a rabbit bursts out of the greenery and rushes off.

I smile, knowing there has to be a stream or river somewhere nearby. If there's wildlife, there's means of survival.

A few hours later, I'm nestled in a fork in the branches of a willow tree as I watch the death recap. No one else died after the initial bloodbath, so there's thirteen of us still alive. I'm relieved when I don't see Rue or Bannor's face in the sky.

From what I saw and experienced at the bloodbath, it was brutal. I'm grateful that they both escaped. If I'm not the one who makes it home, I'd like one of them to. Rue because she reminds me of Prim. Bannor because his winning would benefit Prim and Peeta.

I miss Peeta. Right now he'd be holding me against his chest if I were home with him. We'd talk softly, as to not wake Prim and my mother in the next room. He'd place feather light kisses on my temple before we'd both drift off.

I jolt awake when I hear booming laughter. I noiselessly roll towards the sound, and see a small fire a few hundred yards to my right. I also see the Careers surrounding a girl, Clove is straddling her and she's thrashing violently.

Cato, the boy from Two, laughs before stomping on her arm. "Here Clove, I'll hold her still!" The male Tribute from One is standing on the girl's feet.

My blood runs cold as the girl cries out, I can see the blood flowing from her wounds all the way from my spot in the tree. Clove is taking her time, I can't make out what she's saying but she's giggling every few moments before making another slice.

Cato leans forward and nudges her, his head tilts slightly as he speaks. Clove suddenly nods then rolls backwards off the girl, leaning to the side as she comes up on her feet. My stomach lurches. She was just torturing someone, and now she's laughing and fixing her hair as she poses for the cameras.

The boy from One thrusts his spear into the girl repeatedly as she cries out in agony. I squeeze my eyes shut as she throws her head back, crying out in desperation.

I make a vow right then, I will not let the Careers catch me, no matter what it takes. I can only imagine the pain that Prim and Peeta would go through watching me die like this, and I won't put them through it. I don't even know this girl and I hurt for her and her family.

The cannon booms a few minutes later and the Careers all congratulate each other, laughing as they check the girl for any supplies. When they don't find anything, they fling her limp body to the side. Her skull cracks as she slams into the base of another willow tree, and I gag.

The girls' laughter covers the sound of my distress, and the Careers begin to make their way through the woods back the way they came.

I let out a shuddering breath. Dawn is breaking, they spent so long dragging out the girl's death that the sun has started to rise. I rearrange my supplies into my bag, then I carefully climb back down the base of the willow tree. I'm very conscious of my emotions, I know that the cameras are most likely following me. I just witnessed a brutal death, and also escaped certain death at the hands of the Careers.

I check my nearby snares before venturing off, and I'm rewarded with a healthy thick rabbit. I use the embers from the dead tribute's fire to cook the meat.

As I eat, I feel pretty confident that I'm still holding the attention of the Capitol. I'm grateful for it, I want the sponsors to see that I'm smart and resourceful. I wasn't the one stupid enough to set the fire, but I'm smart enough to take advantage of the dying embers. I know that the Careers won't come to investigate any left over smoke, so I eat slowly.

Stretching my limbs one last time, I wrap the last of the rabbit meat up in my plastic sheet.

Water is my main concern at this point, so I start my hike. I follow a path downhill, away from the direction of the Careers and the Cornucopia.

The next day I still haven't been successful in my search, and I know I'm in trouble. My sleep was pitiful, my head is throbbing, and I'm stumbling. My brain feels foggy, and I can no longer think clearly.

Haymitch could've sent me water by now. Did I not win over any sponsors after all? I bury my face in my hands, ashamed. I made a promise, and I'm about to die simply because I can't find any water.

I stagger through the underbrush, and after I trip and nearly lose my footing on the tangled weeds, I find a broken branch to lean on.

A few more hours pass, and I know I'm doomed. I've stumbled repeatedly, but eventually the branch slides out from under me and I crash into the ground. I'm too weak to get up, so I close my eyes and turn my head to the side. My hair slides across the soft earth and I sigh.

"Peeta." I gasp, tearing up. "I'm sorry, Prim." My voice sounds foreign, almost like the old miners in the Hob who spend all their money on liquor and cigars.

I swirl my fingers in the mud, and pretend I'm painting with Peeta.

My eyes fly open. Mud! And I smell pond lilies! I crawl, dragging myself across the ground, desperate. Not even ten feet away from where I fell is a small pond, and I drag myself right to the edge.

Shaking, I pull out my water bottle and iodine, and I wait as long as I can handle. I drink two full bottles over the next three hours, and I make a third bottle before climbing into a nearby tree. I snack on the leftover rabbit as I sip my water.

I listen to the anthem from my perch in the branches, and I feel so much better already. No Tributes died today. I settle into my sleeping bag clutching my water bottle and drift off, content for the first time since the Games started.

A roaring jolts me awake a few hours later. It's still nighttime, but the wall of fire rapidly descending towards me illuminates the woods.

Frantically, I shove my belongings into my bag, fling it over my shoulder, and catapult myself out of the tree. I cry out as I land, but there's no time to register the pain. My boots dig into the mud as I launch myself forward, sprinting.

I do my best to follow the wildlife, the rabbits and deer and even a wild dog pack are fleeing the flames as well. Their sense of direction is trust worthier than mine at this point, I can barely see through the thick smoke. I pull the collar of my shirt over my nose, gasping and choking as I run.

That's when the first fireball launches itself out of the infernal wall. I barely dodge it, and I can smell my hair melting.

I dive, leap, and flatten on the ground repeatedly, desperately trying to avoid the attacks. I'm not fast enough, and a fireball skids itself across my right leg. I smack my hands against the burning fabric of my pants, crying out in pain. I stumble and trip, landing harshly next to the blackened grass. I'm too horrified to move, and I tremble realizing this is it.

But, it's not. No more fireballs come. The inferno doesn't progress any farther, and I realize I must be close to another Tribute. It makes sense. There haven't been many deaths. The Capitol must be growing bored, so they've manipulated me into a confrontation.

I limp away from the clouds of black smoke, still choking. My hands are covered in red welts, and with every step the burnt fabric sticks to the wound on my leg. I'm so shell shocked I don't even realize I've stumbled into a pool of water until I'm beyond ankle deep.

I reposition myself and sit on the edge, and I take some time to wash the soot and blood from my face. I pull my hair in front of my face, and so much has burnt off I have to re-braid it. The cool water soothes my hands. I take a deep breath and swing my leg around so I can get a better look at it.

The injury is right below my knee, and stretches almost to my ankle. My skin is bright red, but fortunately none of it is blackened. Gingerly, I use my knife to cut the burnt fabric off. I try to salvage the bottom of my pant leg, and besides a gaping hole surrounding my wound I don't do too bad.

I decide soaking my leg in the water might not be such a bad idea, so I prop the heel of my boot up on a rock to try to protect the leather. I sigh. The water does offer some relief, but I wish I had herbs. Without my father's book, I wouldn't know what to look for, so the water will most likely be my only solution. A twig snaps behind me and I spin, my knife at the ready.

It's Bannor.

I wanted to reward all of you still following this story with another chapter :) I'm almost halfway finished writing another, and I'm finishing up editing another now!

Also, one day in the future if I'm ever able to actually finish what I have planned for this trilogy, I might go back and rewrite the first few chapters over again. I started writing this story back in 2016, and posted the first chapter in 2017 I believe. So the writing is a little more simplified than how I would write it now. Or maybe not, maybe I'm just being too harsh on myself.

Either way, reviews are the key to my heart and the best way to get more chapters out of me. I hope you all enjoy! :)