Four left… four left to die.

It would be easier just to end it. To end the pain. But I can't. Not when I'm this close.

So many are gone, yet so many are left to go.

My hand closes around my trident. I hear footsteps. Drawing short breaths, I show myself, bursting through the trees.

A knife plunges into my left arm. Roaring with pain, I pull my trident from through my belt and drive it through my attacker's heart.

It's that quick.

It's that easy.

The cannon booms.

Three to finish.

Night falls, I curl up inside my rocky alcove, shivering, starving. I had so many parachutes. I gained so much at the Cornucopia. But I wasted it. I wasted it because that's what we careers do. The face of the district 9 girl shines in the sky and, abandoning my efforts to say awake, I find my eyes shutting and I drift off into an uneasy sleep.

The sound of a cannon wakes me, I wonder how long I've been out. Immediately after it fires, Honey, District 1, glares at us from the clouds.

Two left.

It's time to hunt.

I just hope she gets to him before I do.

I hope they finish each other.

I've been walking for hours and am just stopping for rest when I hear a soft rustling from above me. My head whips up and beady eyes pierce into me. A knife fires down and barely misses my shoulder. It's him. He's only twelve. And he needs to die. So I have to kill him. And then… and then I have to kill Esme.

He can fight, it was unexpected, the sudden strength of a twelve year old from district 8, he's not bad at it, either, but I know, the whole of Panem knows, he's no match for me. Upon the cameras, I am merciless, I am a killing machine. I am anything that keeps them happy.

"Are you going to come down?" I say, softly, "Or will I have to wait here all night?" I say this knowing that I can't last all night, I doubt I can last another hour, I haven't eaten or drank anything in days, hunger and fatigue are wearing me away. The eyes disappear and I hear the tree rustle. Then the neighbouring tree. Then the next.

"Right, you're playing it like that, are you?" I mutter through gritted teeth. I force myself to move, I have to kill this boy, I follow the sound of the rustling, until I hear a gasp, then a scream. His body flops to the ground and I shut my eyes and throw with all of my might.

They're going to create a dilemma; me and Esme will be forced to meet. I'm not waiting for it to start. I set off for the Cornucopia.

I am walking, I have been walking for hours, I have no knowledge of plants, no knowledge of what is safe to eat or drink, and I know that I will not win this game unless I kill her within the hour.

But I couldn't.

I couldn't kill her. My girlfriend. They want me to kill her. Well I won't.

She appears faster than any mutt. Her piercing, calculating black eyes bore into me and I don't think. I don't think at all. I just act.

Because that's what the Hunger Games does to people.

"May I present the winner of the 65th Hunger Games… Mr Finnick Odair of District Four!"


Soooooo, there it is, I'll carry on updating and I'm sorry if it becomes really inconsistant, but please review and let me know what you think!x