Oh dear, I was away for wayyyy to long. Sorryyyyyyyyy.
Artema's PoV:
Oh no, I'm thinking, gripping my axe so hard I feel it might splinter. I just lost my camp after the tracker jackets, now I can't find my supplies, and I don't know if I have enough (or any) sponsors to help me. I think back to District 8. I cry. I've never felt so alone before. I have come from an unloving home, but I didn't feel completely alone, well, not that I can remember. I am only 16, and my older brother gets all the terrase, so my name was only entered 5 times. I feel alone, neglected. If I ever needed someone it's now. Help me, I whisper, though I know no one can hear me. Anyone who does is trying to cut my throat. I can't do this any longer. Alone. Afraid. My life hangs in the balance and I feel so scared. The taunts of the District ring in my ears and my nerves steel.
Rustling leaves catch my attention. I turn to see a boy, buzz-cut black hair, reddish eyes and a girl, clearly his girlfriend, enter my, well it isn't really a camp, my area. I speak up, breaking the silence. And the words that slip out of my mouth are undoubtedly, "kill me and get this over with.". An arrow pierces my stomach and I double over, in extreme pain. And the last thing I hear is the cannon announcing my own death, ringing in my ears.