This first part will be apart of the ninth and tenth days, despite the title. After that, we return to the eleventh day. Hope you enjoy reading!

Spool Nylon (12)- D8M

After we escape from the Careers, we try to walk as far as we can before settling down to sleep. We don't make it far, and that worries me. We sit underneath an alcove of rock beside the cliff, Seb sleeping as I keep watch with my knife. The arm where he was bit is almost completely full of black poison. I lift up his shirt to see the veins running dark across his chest, reaching for his heart on the opposite side. He's been strong, but he can only fight off the poison for so long. The Careers will come after us before long, and we're going to have to be on the move. And doing that with Seb like this will be near impossible.

I don't want him to die, but I'm starting to understand why Seb told me to leave him earlier.

I keep a hand on his shoulder so he knows that I'm here, even if he doesn't know where he is. I don't know if he'll make it through the night, and that thought fills me with dread. What will I do if he dies? I won't be able to survive on my own, no matter what I said to him before. I can evade the Careers for only so long, dancing around them like a little mouse, until the cats catch me. I have only a knife to defend myself, and only the dismal supply of food that remains from the dead cats.

My eyes are starting to droop when the moon is high in the sky, but I can't fall asleep. Someone could come across us and slice Seb and I to pieces in minutes. When I hear a distant chiming noise, I almost think that it's another tribute approaching us. I tighten my grip on my knife blade, my palm going sweaty, and shakily raise if in front of me. If I die protecting Seb, then so be it. But then I realize the sound is coming from above us. A gift!

I can barely see the glint of the moonlight against the silver box as it floats down to us, landing perfectly in my arms. I cheerfully open it. Of course the sponsors don't want Seb to die; he's attractive and an experienced murderer. They'll send him the antidote he needs for the poison.

I peer inside the box, heart sinking. What is this? Johanna Mason sent Seb a coconut? I know that she's a strange woman, sarcastic and ruthless, but surely she wouldn't condemn Seven's strongest tribute since her own victory to death for a weird joke. I reach into the box and pull out the coconut. A little slip of paper falls onto the sand, barely visible. I pick it up, holding it in the moonlight to read it. Be resourceful, little one -J

I grumble under my breath. She's either teasing me or really trying to help out Seb. I grunt in frustration just as I hear another gentle tinkling sound. It couldn't be. But it is, somehow. Another silver box, this time a little farther away. I have to get up to reach it, glancing around to make sure no one is hiding in the shadows. I come back with the other gift, a canteen of water, this one without a message. Food and water is a great gift, but why would our sponsors send us this instead of medicine?

Be resourceful. It's what I've been doing my entire life, it shouldn't be difficult. What can I do with a coconut and water that would help Seb? I open my new canteen and feel something strange against the side. It's some kind of tube, a tiny one that I've seen in the Games before, used to extract water from trees. This one is much smaller, though, as if used to penetrate something smaller.

I realize with a sinking heart what I need to do. There's no way that the mentors can expect me to pull this off. But I don't have any other choice. Seb will die if he doesn't get some kind of treatment.

I wait until the sun starts to rise, during which time I crack open the coconut and drip as much of the juice into the water as I can. It'll need to be as potent as possible. Once the sun is high enough that I can see, I take the tube in hand and sigh deeply, staring down at Seb's still body. He'll die if he doesn't get this right now.

I steady his arm with one hand, trying to locate a large vein to inject the juice. I spot a fat black one, but I can only hope that I'll be able to hit it.

"Don't worry, Seb," I say, my voice shaking. Who knows if he can hear me or not. My own heart is beating fast as I look down at the poison pulsing through Seb's body.

I pierce his arm with the tube, pushing until the skin breaks and it slides in. I shudder at the blood, but purposefully ignore it as I gently pour the coconut water into his blood. This has to work, otherwise Johanna and my own mentors wouldn't have sent it.

I can feel Seb gently writhing with pain at the intrusion of the tube, but other than that he doesn't show any signs that something is wrong, his eyes closed and unmoving. Now all I can do is hope that this will work. It's our last hope.

He stays motionless for a long time, hours and hours as I chew on the last of our cat jerky. It's so tough that it hurts to chew, but I'm hungry and there's nothing else to eat. At around midday, a cannon goes off. I jump up, running over to Seb and checking his pulse. In my panic, it takes me much longer than it should have to find his pulse. He groans softly as I set his wrist back down.

He's alive. The black veins in his arm are receding slightly, the color lightening. I smile to myself. The dead tribute must be the one that I scratched with the fang. Or maybe someone else, but regardless, there's one more tribute down. Only five to go.

Tiffany Silk (18)- D1F

After Hadrian collapses, I can only stay with him for a few more minutes before leaving once I'm sure he won't be able to get back up. At around noon, I hear a cannon echo throughout the arena. It's Hadrian's, for sure. My suspicions are confirmed when night falls, and his face is projected into the sky. I'm the only Career left, aside from Nikki perhaps. I can't say I'm surprised. I've been working toward this my whole life, and I deserve more than anyone else. Hadrian, Tiger, Rufina, even Nikki and Drew… they all were all spoiled children, thinking they would win from their looks alone, or a witty personality. Only I know what the Games are really about.

After I reached the cliff last night, it was too dark to climb down, so I set up camp at the top. Once the sun rises on day eleven, I'm already packed and ready to go. I'm not going to let the little boy and the big one escape, especially not since the Seven boy is so weak. I need a few more kills under my belt before the showdown if I want the Capitolites to take me seriously. Three isn't a very impressive number, though it's certainly one of the best in the arena right now, if not the best. The Six boy was a powerful kill, but I need more on my record.

I climb down the cliff in the pale sunlight, the gentle sea breeze caressing my skin. When I stop in District Four on my Victory Tour, I imagine I'll be overcome with nostalgia. I feel the heavy weight of Hadrian's broadsword on my back. It's bigger than the weapons I'm used to, but I can handle it. Part of the Games are making do with what you have.

I keep a light but steady pace as I jog over the beach, keeping my eyes peeled for any sign of activity. Surely the pair would leave footprints in the sand, but they also might have walked in or near and water, which then washed them away. Still, they have to be close. A little boy and a sick, heavy guy that he can't carry won't be traveling at any quick pace. After a few hours, I come across a large indent in the sand, a clear displacement where someone was sitting near the cliff.

Jackpot, I think to myself smugly. They have to be close. I check for any foot prints, but they only lead back toward the waterline, where they disappear. The little one is smart, for sure. But what really surprises me is that there are two sets of prints in the sand. The big one must be up and walking again; his feet aren't even dragging in the ground. I slowly draw my sword so that it doesn't make too loud of a sound, creeping forward cautiously. Could it be that he was faking his illness? After Hadrian got sick, I realized it was some kind of poison that the Seven boy had, but surely he couldn't have recovered so quickly if it was.

Whatever the case, they must be weak and dehydrated by now. They'll be easy to catch up to. That is, until I see the silver cases floating in the water. One of them is close to shore, while the other is way out. The only reason I can see it is the sun is glinting off of it as it meanders into the sea. That bitch Johanna Mason must have helped out her precious lumberjack. Maybe that's why he can walk now, and how the two of them have been evading me so well. I might be in more danger than I thought.

I hurry slightly as I continue, realizing the pair might be traveling faster than I expected.

Filly Marcoffe (18)- D10F

I've been cautiously exploring more and more of the mountain as the day drags on, hot and relentless. I'm on the lookout for anything that seems like the silhouette of the demon creature I saw last night. It came to me again in my dreams, forcing me to lie awake for the rest of the night in fear. Despite my unwillingness to leave the mountain, I know that staying in one place forever will decrease my chances of survival. My supply of grapes has run dry, but fruit trees are plentiful along the path of the mountain. At least I won't get scurvy, I think to myself as I gather up an armful of plums from a low hanging tree. I could live here for years and never want for anything. That is, if there weren't four other Panem citizens here trying to murder me.

I take the plums back to the cabin, sitting on the cliff and munching on a few. I don't have much water left, but the fruits are juicy enough to sustain me. After two plums are gone, I read more from the journal, which I'm almost finished with. I listen to the birds flying overhead, the gentle howling of some canine creature as they roam over the desert, searching for prey. Lately the sound has been encroaching closer and closer on the mountains, and it makes me nervous, but my mind starts to feel a little hazy when I think about something off of the mountain. There's no use in thinking about it. I tell myself.

I open the journal to the page I had folded down, beginning to read. The couple is having troubles again. This time they wandered too far away from the mountains and nearly died from dehydration without the ocean's water. Another group of people follow them back home and jealously set siege to the mountains, threatening to kill anyone who doesn't vacate their homes. But the mountains are so plentiful that the inhabitants can't just leave; they would be condemning themselves to death. The one who always wants to leave urges them to abandon their homes and sail across the ocean to see what they find, but the other is adamant on staying, unable to even get out of bed. When the invaders realize the food isn't going to run out any time soon, they start to catapult things at the mountains, starting with boulders and ending with fireballs. The whole mountain is set ablaze, and even then the couple refuses to move, one not at all and the other not without them.

They die here in this very cabin, as a huge fireball hits right beside the cabin, burning part of the cabin down and collapsing the rest onto them.

I push the book away, shuddering as I shake the image out of my head. The book ends there, after two obituaries written by the other people who lived on the mountain. They apparently tried to rescue them but couldn't, instead only being able to save the journal before crossing the water.

But the most horrifying part of it is the account of some of the people who swear they saw a strange, all black figure standing on the shore, watching them sail away.

I close the book, breathing in deeply. It's just a story designed to scare me. How else would it get here, after the people supposedly wrote in it and then sailed away? It's just fiction, nothing else.

But the thing about the Games is that everything is fiction, but it's still more real than reality.

I feel tears of fear, shock, and sadness well up in my eyes. I didn't know the characters in the journal, but they were the only company I had, and now they're dead. Killed because they would rather die at home than live somewhere else.

I throw the book over the cliff as hard as I can, screaming into the open air. The Gamemakers think it's funny to mess with me, all for the entertainment of the rich, pompous bastards who sit on their plush couches and watch us all die. For once, I feel myself start to get angry at the people who put me here. Anger doesn't accomplish anything. But going along with everything hasn't helped, either. I'm still here.

Just on the horizon, as the sun sets over the mountains, I can see a dark outline of a figure, standing upright. I jump up, staring at it as it stares right back at me, too far away to make out any distinguishing features. Surely the creature can't be hearing my thoughts, right? Even that is completely out of the Gamemaker's league of ability. I'm just going crazy. I close my eyes tight, counting to ten slowly, then open them again.

The figure is gone.

Nicolette "Nikki" Anderson (18)- D4F

I sleep curled up on the sand, my jacket wrapped around myself. It's taken everything i have not to move from this spot, even though I know this is the right move. Jason was right about the forcefield; I haven't seen anyone in days. I've pretty much eaten all of my rations, and although I know I can make some drinking water little by little if I need to, I also know that once the number of tributes dwindles down a little more, I'll be up and moving again. I'll need a good supply of clean water, so I start making it now. Unfortunately, one can only watch a tiny silver tin of water condense over and over for so long without going insane.

The thought that I don't have anything else to do in the morning except make more water is honestly what keeps me up all night. I stare through the forcefield, watching the gently rippling waves of air, barely distinguishable if I didn't know it was there. I can hear the low hum of it in the still night air and the gentle lap of the water. As the sun rises, the sounds of seagulls fill the air, a pale yellow spreading over the sky. I yawn as I sit up, finally resolving that I'm not going to get any sleep. My stomach is growling, but I don't feel the urge to eat, knowing I need to ration out my food.

I keep my things in a neat little pile on the shore as I go for an early morning swim. The water feels cool and familiar, the smell of salt and brine soothing me like nothing else can. I smile to myself as I remember my first kiss with Jason. It happened here in the water. He had been so surprised, his eyes widening with shock and happiness. The memory makes me grin at first, but then it fills me with anger. I'm never going to see that beautiful expression again. Maybe when I win, I'll be able to watch that clip of us over and over again to see his pretty smile.

I float on the water on my back, staring up at the sky. My heart is heavy, but I float just fine. Above me, the seagulls are flying inland, squawking all the way. I frown slightly. They've been doing it for a couple of days now, but I have no idea why. In Four, when the birds started migrating away from the water, it meant that there was some kind of storm coming, but that doesn't mean anything here. If there's a storm, the forcefield will keep it out.

Once the sun starts to heat up, I get out of the water to prevent major sunburns, taking shelter under my jacket on the shore. It's hot and boring as I make more water for myself, but at least I'm safe. I see no one, but I keep a look out just in case. If I were to guess, I imagine Tiffany is still on the prowl for me, but she might be looking on the other side of the arena, no where near me. The others are who knows where, but I haven't come in contact with any of the other tributes who are still alive. The girl from Ten is probably not near the beach, since that's unfamiliar territory for her. The Seven and Eight alliance are the ones that could be anywhere. I know they're both smart and capable of killing, even though the lumberjack's story might be entirely fabricated. They're probably holed up somewhere good, traps laid all around them, maybe even picking people off. The little one can't fight much, but he's clever. He wouldn't be alive otherwise.

After I get more and more bored, I finally thrown off my jacket and decide to do some stretching. We used to stretch like this at the Academy before out workouts, and it always relaxed me. I used to get up early in the mornings and go to the beach by myself, before my parents and Marcus could start hounding me to get to training. It relaxes me even now, feeling the sweat dripping slowly down my neck, over my temple. I balance on one foot for as long as I can, then switch to the other. I stretch over the sand, grappling with handfuls of it and feeling the granules slips through my fingers.

I do my stretching for two hours or so, just trying to pass time as the rest of the day drags on. I watch the water undulate slowly, the large waves in the distance. They reach for the shore, desperately trying to crash against me, but become smaller and smaller as they rush toward the sand, instead only lapping lightly at my toes. I think, not for the first time, if I could try swimming out and seeing what happens. It isn't likely that it would lead anywhere; I could reach the forcefield easily, but the temptation to simply swim away from everything doesn't leave my mind so easily, especially as I gaze over the waves that seem to be entirely open and welcoming. But even without the forcefield, the waves dissuade me from trying. The water is too dangerous; anyone who tried to swim or even sail over these waters wouldn't even be able to make it out of the shallow parts. I would die immediately.

Sebastian "Seb" Cassara (18)- D7M

I can't believe it. Just a day ago, I was hardly able to walk, even stand on my own. I was in such terrible pain, I thought any breath might be my last, and now here I am, up and walking beside Tag. I'm still weak, of course, my body feels like I'm floating most of the time and if I move too fast, my vision goes white, but I can move on my own. Tag helps me along by holding my hand as we silently walk along the shore, in the shallowest part of the water where we won't leave footprints. We've been walking for the better part of the day now, and I know we won't be able to keep it up much longer. The remaining Career will be after us, sniffing at our heels, and we can't outrun her. She's trained, and healthy, with food and water. We're going to have to rely on something other than our strength to get out of this.

Tag and I plow on until we reach a rock formation that Tag deems sufficient. I still feel a little delirious, so I'm not exactly sure what's going on until he's dragging me through the water.

"We're using this one, Seb," I hear him saying through the fuzz in my mind. "Stay awake, okay?"

"I'm not going to faint," I say, annoyed, despite the fact that I'm leaning on his shoulder to stay upright. "Where are we hiding? Behind it?'

"If you want to get hypothermia," he replies matter-of-factly. "We're going to climb on top. Think you can do that?"

"I can do it," I say, trying to sound confident, more for myself than anything else. We wade deeper into the water until we reach the rock itself, the jagged point reaching up for the sky. The flat part of the rock is still made of some kind of sharp volcanic stone, and it cuts my hands as Tag hoists me up. My head feels light as I scramble for purchase, but I amazingly don't faint. Tag manages to climb up after me, helping me recline onto the rock.

"She'll be here soon," Tag murmurs, setting his knife on the surface of the rock. "We're going to have to be as silent as possible. She'll want to check each of the rocks, but this one is far enough away that she probably won't see us if we're quiet and don't move."

"You can count on me," I say quietly, already feeling my consciousness start to fade away. "I'll be here… just wake me if…"

The world fades away before I even realize it. I fade in and out of unconsciousness, but it's not the same as before. I feel like I'm simply sleeping rather than being forced into a coma, listening to Tag mumbling to himself. Probably a step-by-step of the plan. I'm not in pain, even though each breath is still ragged. But my heart is beating normally, and the black poison in my veins has started to retract back to the initial bite wound. Blood and black bile leaks out of the bitemarks every now and then, and even though it's gross to feel while half-asleep, I'm still so wonderfully grateful. To Johanna, to Spool's mentors, and oddly enough to the Capitolites who sponsored me. At least they want me alive for the time being, although I know they would rejoice to see me dead in the next moment.

I can hear someone speaking to me, a hand gripping my arm. "Seb!" the voice hisses. I regretfully feel precious sleep slip away, emerging into the daylight.

"What?" I grumble.

"Shh!" Tag shushes me loudly.

"Then why did you wake me up…" I grunt, trying to sit up. He pushes me back down, keeping the hand on my chest.

I huff in annoyance, until I hear the unmistakable sound of someone running through the sand. Their breath comes in quick pants, and soon they've entered the water and are splashing along toward us. Tag quickly gets down beside me, peeking behind the piece of rock that hides us.

"It's her," he murmurs. "Stay down."

He watches for a few more minutes before suddenly whipping his head back down, breathing heavily, eyes wide. It seems like an eternity before the splashing passes by us, eventually returning to the crunchy sound of sand. She didn't slow down once, apparently too hurried to stop and check each rock carefully, just as Tag suspected. We were in the clear.

Tag breathed a sigh of relief, slumping down next to me. I can hear him starting to count under his breath, starting over whenever he reaches 120 seconds. After he's done it seven times, he grabs my hand and starts to pull me upright.

"We're leaving," he says, grabbing the knife and checking his pockets for the remainder of our cat meat. We don't have much left, maybe only enough to get us through the day. The sun is already starting to set as we climb off the rock, landing in the salty water. The girl from One is gone, run off into the distance. Tag takes my hand and drags me through the water. We won't bother with the sand, too afraid of leaving footprints. When the girl realizes we aren't on the beach, she'll be furious, and coming back this way. We can only hope it will be hours, even days before she realizes.

"We have to keep moving," Tag says, slogging through the water. "We have a headstart, but we're slow."

"I'm doing the best I can," I harrumph.

"I'm not blaming you," he says gently. I try to calm my temper a little bit. I don't want to start fighting again like we did last time, over nothing. We'll be at the waterfall in no time, and from there we'll climb back up the level land, and then up the mountain, the one we haven't already explored. We'll be safe there, finally.

Hey everyone! Sorry about the wait again, and for the uneventful chapter. Next chapter will pick up again, I promise! Thank you for reading!