When I reached the woods, I didn't stop. I kept on running. I knew that it was only a matter of time before someone would try to find me. After all, I did do really good in the wilderness survival stations back at the training centre. I smile as I remember the stunned looks on the other tributes' faces when I identify all of the edible plants and berries in record time. They didn't stand a chance.
I jump over a fallen log and land as softly as a cat on the forest floor. I have a tendency to run on the very tips on my toes, and when I run it looks as though I'm flying. At least, that's what I've been told.
When I think that I've put enough distance between me and the other tributes, I plop myself down on a log and sling my backpack off of my back. I hold it gingerly in my hands, knowing that it might make the very difference between life and death. I try to un-zip the zipper as quietly as I can, but the sudden noise still manages to scare several birds out of the bushes next to me. Drat! Now the others will know exactly where I am!
I hold my breath and listen intently for the sound of boots crunching through the leaves. When I hear nothing, I let out a huge sigh of relief.
I peer into the trees as a precaution. When I am satisfied that no one had noticed the birds, I turn my focus back to the pack. Inside, I find a loaf of bread, some matches, an empty water bottle, a small knife, and several bottles of paint. The paint must be for camouflage, but I was pretty much useless at that station. I sigh and begin to examine every pocket of the pack. I weigh it in my hands, and realize that it's still heavy. Excitedly, I rip through every pocket until I feel the satisfying coolness of metal and the smoothness of plastic. I gently lift the thing out of my backpack. A grin slowly spreads across my face as I realize what this thing is.