District 2: Jaehaera Blackfyre (17) Pov-

When I wake up in the morning, I never think, Wow, I can't wait to get out of bed and start the new day!

I'm always thinking, uuuuuuuuuugh.

Nero wakes me up at sunrise. I open my eyes slowly and see the cornucopia's supplies illuminated slightly in the first rays of the sun.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," Nero jokes. "Or I might have to eat your breakfast for you."

I slither out of my sleeping bag and start to the nearest river for a wash. On my way back, a slight beeping noise catches my ear, and I look to the right. There's no doubt about it… a sponsor parachute.

I reach the parachute a few seconds after it makes soft contact with the leaf-strewn earth. The carriage of the parachute holds a large package wrapped in shiny silver material. At first I'm tempted to open it straight away, but I feel too exposed out in the open. I decide to sneak it back to the horn and open it while Nero isn't looking. Because if it's something valuable I don't want him to realize I've got it.

By the time I get back breakfast is almost finished. Nero sits on a rickety wooden stool, slowly stirring a steaming pot of tomato soup. He ladles a bowl for me and one for himself. Then he starts away to change clothes and I'm left alone at the horn.

I produce the bulky package and tear it open. Into my lap falls… a cardboard box. Wow. I've always wanted one of those. I pry open the box and find… another box. Cool. No less than five boxes are packaged this way, like the skins of an onion.

I open the last box and a field of stretchy material falls into my lap. Body armor. From what I've seen of past games body armor is often one of the most expensive sponsor gifts. And seeing as it's this late in the games, this one piece of armor must cost a small fortune. Someone, somewhere, must really like me.

I stuff my sponsor gift into my bag. What time is it? Nero should be back soon.

I glance at the glowing orange vial of poison I was sponsored a few days ago. I've been planning to poison Nero for days now, but I just don't think it's the right time yet. I know he'll never have the guts to kill me off so it's no threat to me to hold off for just a few more days. I think I'll kill him off at the final six or seven. Yeah, that's probably what I'll do.

Two seconds later Nero gets back and we eat breakfast on the ground together.

"So… are we just gonna sit here all day or are we gonna go hunting?" Nero asks.

"Stay here," I say, so quickly I take myself by surprise. Because I know that the further we progress the more likely Nero will get to abandoning ship. And I'm not going to leave him alone. I'm going to keep him in my sight for as long as it's worth it to keep him alive. Which, at this point, isn't for long.

District 6: Lincoln Blitz (16) Pov-

Today is the day. Day three. Doomsday. In District 6 it's a common saying that three days of inactivity in the games means death for any tribute. And today is my third day stuck on the branch. This morning I'm going to face my fears and swim to shore.

Before I leave, though, I want to get my supplies to safety. I pack everything I own into my single bag and stuff it the rest of the way full with branches and leaves, to provide a small amount of cushioning. Then I hurl the bag with all my might toward the nearest shore. It lands safely on dry land. Now my goal is to reach it.

I turn, so that instead of lying on the branch I'm sitting on it with my feet dangling above the water.

This is the most terrifying moment of my life. Not a single doubt about it. Every cell in my body screams for me to pull myself back up onto the safety of the branch, to just sit here and cry and die and crumble to dust. Every part of me except my willpower, at least.

Before I know it I've thrown myself off, into the water.

As soon as my head goes under, a wave of something freezing-cold courses through my body. Terror. My muscles tighten and for ten seconds I can't move. My breath is already starting to dwindle. My lungs are already burning.

Then my feet touch the solid bottom of the lake and I'm forced back to my senses. I throw out my arms to search for something to grab onto. My left hand grasps onto a root and I use it to drag myself along about two yards. Then I grab onto a rock. Then another root.

I'm moving up and up. The surface is getting closer and closer. For a moment nothing can stop me. But, just as quickly, hope starts to fade. An iron clamp is sealing itself around my torso, slowly tightening. My lungs scream for air. The cold of the water presses into every inch of my flesh and crushes my bones.

Then a wash of cool morning air hits me and my lungs find that they can breathe again. I'm staring up at the fading stars.

Now that I'm in wading depth I can slowly drag myself to shore without putting my head under. Finally, I collapse onto dry soil, shivering and moaning and coughing up water. However damaged I may be, I'm alive.

District 5: Adelaide Hampton (16) Pov-

I get moving as soon as the sun rises. I've already been resting at the riverside for far too long, and while I don't feel exactly comfortable leaving the healing river behind I know it has to be done.

I turn to the sun to tell me which direction is west, and that's the way I move. I don't know why. In movies and books whenever characters leave at sunrise they travel west.

Around noon I settle down in a grassy clearing laden with flowers. I recognize a few of the flowers as edible, and I spend a few minutes munching on the blossoms. It's not much, but it's surprisingly fulfilling.

As the sun starts to fall, I find the forest growing thicker and thicker, until finally the trees are so close together I can hardly fit between them even when I turn onto my side. In the middle of the grove of tightly-knit trunks is a deep, black hole in the ground.

My first instinct is to run, but something about the hole tells me it's nothing to worry about. The shape is such a perfect circle I can't imagine it was dug by an animal. I throw a few rocks inside to make sure nobody's home. Nobody is. So I crawl inside.

The tunnel is about ten feet long and then it opens up into a dark room with the floor space of a single train compartment. Even with sunlight streaming in through the entry hole, I have trouble seeing to the corners of the space.

I pull out my single flashlight, and the sensation is so alien I almost scream. I haven't touched my flashlight ever since I had five fingers. It feels so different, so unnatural to grab the flashlight with only four fingers instead of five. I shine the beam of the light around the space and confirm there's nothing here except musty underground air.

Smiling slightly, I let down my supplies. I can imagine I'll be spending quite a while in here. I'll have lots of time to practice with my poison darts—now that I only have nine fingers I'll probably have to re-learn quite a few old skills.

District 3: Pixel Watt (12) Pov-

It surprises me way more than it should that the air is a lot colder here by the mountains. I guess there's just more wind and a lot of stuff for it to "whip" around. The howling of the wind is probably what's making me think it's so cold. If I really think about it I guess the temperature hasn't changed, it's just my imagination.

It's incredible to imagine that I've made it to the final eight. Not like I was expecting not to get this far. I mean, look at me. Sponsors please form an orderly queue.

I'm joking. But I'm seriously wondering what my grandpa said in his interview. I'm assuming he's the one they interviewed, as apart from some rando Cousin Beth who lives a hundred miles away he's the only family I have.

There are only two kinds of interviews. There are ones filled with tears and begs for the tribute to come home and there are the calm, composed ones where everyone knows the tribute would want them to stay strong. There is no in-between. Knowing my grandpa I don't think he's the emotional type. I can even imagine he cracked a few jokes.

After a few hours of searching the base of the mountain range I find a wide, dark crevice leading straight down into the ground. You might as well put up a sign that says, something evil lives here.

There's no way I'm going down there. Uh-uh. Thanks but no thanks.

Suddenly I hear a beeping sound and I gaze to my right—a sponsor parachute. I rush to the parachute and find a tight black package with a single note:

Pixel,

D2F has poison.

~C

I open the package and find a small crossbow fashioned from glossy, dark wood along with five arrows.

Ugh. Jaehaera has poison. That can't be good. But at least I have a weapon now. I'll have to find the time to practice later.

When night falls I have no choice but to settle down on the flattest ground I can find, only a few feet up the side of the mountain. Here I'll have at least some high ground. Despite the cold of the night I fall asleep remarkably quickly. I'm thankful, that's for sure—I'll need to catch up on my sleep to prepare for the hell on earth that the next few days are sure to be.

District 11: Jaro Veldt (15) Pov-

As a kid when I was nervous my mother always told me to count my blessings.

But my legs are tired. With immense effort I straighten them out, letting my feet press against the wall of the cave.

It's kind of disheartening that it takes me a while to think of anything. There's a lot of anti-blessings weighing on me now. I'm in the Hunger Games. I could die at any second. Stuff like that.

But then again, I'm well-stocked. I have quite a few sponsors on my side. I'm in comfort. I've been resting all day, and I think I've been active enough recently that a day of inactivity will be tolerated by the Capitol. I've got all my supplies with me: sleeping bills, pocketknife, compass, and axe. And I have a sleeping bag.

That's quite a few blessings. I'm grateful to be in the spot that I'm in.

Sometimes shadows will dance on the walls of the cave and I'll jump down into my sleeping bag. This really irks me because it shows that, however grand I may pretend to be to increase my chance of surviving the games, I'm just an animal whose sole goal is to survive. At least, that's who I am now that I'm in the games.

When I was five my grandpa took me onto his boat and we sailed a few feet out onto the water. I remember sitting at the table munching on bread. Then there was an earsplitting screech and suddenly water was building up around my feet. My grandpa rushed in and said we hit a sharp rock. We were sinking.

Even though that was ten years ago I remember the sheet terror that rolled through my body in one freezing-cold wave. That wash of terror is what's designed to keep us all alive.

I guess I'm just frustrated because I don't know which of my feelings are genuine, spiritual, part of my soul; and I don't know which are just meaningless chemical reactions programmed into my brain to help me survive.

But that's a long enough existential crisis. I'd say it's time for bed.

District 10: Orford Shaw (18) Pov-

The moon is bright tonight.

I've been running for hours. The image of the other Orford is imprinted into my memory. I see his eyes whenever I close mine, like the insides of my eyelids have been painted with his image.

Was he a ghost? A demon? And why was he troubling me? As a punishment? If so, what have I done? Is this a warning from a higher power? Is my death near?

The moon is bright tonight.

Suddenly it hits me. It hits me like somebody smacked me in the face. I fall to the ground, mind spinning through space, clutching my stomach. Every cell in my brain aches with denial and I let out a groan. This isn't real… it can't be real…

The other Orford isn't real. He was never real. I made him up. He was a figment of my imagination.

Now that I think about it he never ate anything. Why would he? Whenever I was conversing with him I must have shuffled over to take his spot when I responded… that's why I felt like I was jumping between two bodies… those jumps were small bursts of sanity my brain found.

The moon is bright tonight.

A grin crosses my face and a cackle tumbles from my lips. I grab my knives and scamper away into the night.

The moon is bright tonight. Its light reflects off of my blade like a mirror.

I need to get out of this arena. As soon as possible. And there's only one way that's going to happen.

District 7: Cerise Yew (15) Pov-

Back home they say that three days of inactivity in the games are enough to get you killed. But I don't really care. I don't care about anything anymore. I just hope death with claim me soon. Then I won't have to watch death come for any more other people before it comes for me.

I hear water trickling into the cave, and before long I feel it pooling up all around me. Right away I figure the gamemakers are overflowing the nearby river to either drown me or get me to move. But they can't make me do anything.

A sigh tumbles from my lips as the water grows higher and higher, and it's with acceptance that I let it surround me, cover me, plunge me into a blackness I know I'll never leave.

Deaths this Chapter:

8th: Cerise Yew, District 7 Female – Drowned

This girl led possibly the biggest turn of any tribute in these games. When she was first introduced at the reapings it was popular opinion that either she or Erik would win, but after Erik died and she plunged into a state of severe depression I knew I couldn't keep her around any longer. Like many of you I liked her as a person and a tribute but I guess not all things can be destined to be. Who knows, maybe she and Erik are together somewhere else now :D

Remaining Tributes:

District 2: Jaehaera Blackfyre (17)

District 2: Nero Ryker (18)

District 3: Pixel Watt (12)

District 5: Adelaide Hampton (16)

District 6: Lincoln Blitz (16)

District 10: Orford Shaw (18)

District 11: Jaro Veldt (15)

A/N: This chapter was really good fun to write. Now that tensions are rising I'm finding it pretty fun to explore how each tribute is reacting, preparing, etc. Like I've said in a few other places I'd like to wrap up this story soon. At this rate I think I can finish the games in as little as four or five more chapters.

Remember that sponsoring stops at the final five, so if you want to sponsor a tribute time is running low :D

Question: Do you think information from the movies should be considered canon, or only information that comes from the books?