My head hurts when I wake up. My body is covered with blood and bumps and other undeterminable wounds, but I ignore them. I don't know where I am. What had happened to me?

"That's right," I mutter to myself, "I...ran."

It was late evening, because that's when the faces of the fallen tributes appear in the sky. There's only one tonight.

Davis.

Davis...My hand reach for his face. Of course, it's too high up, and I can't touch it. I can't get to him, no matter how desperately I want to. He's too far away. Why can't I fly? I wish I could fly.

How many tributes are left now? I don't know. What I do know is that I wasn't unconscious for long, and I'll need to find a place to hide.

A good hiding place...where? Where do animals hide when there's danger? In trees? In the ground? If I can dig a hole, I can hide deep underground without anyone finding me. It'll be the perfect grave when I die. Yes, a hole is a great idea.

My fingernails bleed as I dig deeper. I don't mind the blood. I don't have any tools to work with, but I know that I had to finish as soon as I could. Then I can feel safe in the enclosed space.

The selected spot for my grave is in front of some strange bushes. They could be poisoned for all I know, but I don't mind sharing my grave with them. If I really wanted to die now, I could even eat some just to see if they were poisoned.

It took forever for me to finish, but at last, it's done. My throat is parched, and my stomach rumbles in complaint. "I'm sorry," I whisper, "I'm not treating you very well, am I?" I settle into my grave and stare up at the stars.

Were they stars?

A parachute floats closer to my eyes, and lands practically right on my face. I bat it away. "Go away, parachute," I grunt, "How dare you disturb me from my death?"

Something inside smells good. My mouth water, and reluctantly I force myself to open it. Inside is a bowl of broth. It's not much, but it satisfies both my hunger and thirst. I find some leaves lying nearby and cover my grave with it, and go to sleep.

That's how it went for the next few days. Every now and then, a parachute with broth would land next to me, and I would polish it off. I don't know who's providing them for me, but whoever it was, they must be really kind people.

I feel safe inside my grave, knowing that when I die, I'll be able to rest in peace. It's a rather satisfying thought.

I don't hear cannons that often, either. Everything is quiet outside. Too quiet, in fact.

Days pass. Sometimes I sleep, sometimes I don't. I spend every minute in my grave...I could already be dead. It wouldn't make a difference. Every day, I wait for my cannon to go Boom!.

But it doesn't.

One day—I'd lost count of the time—a loud rumbling deep within the earth wakes me from my nap. Startled, I scramble out of my grave.

Even the earth itself isn't safe anymore. The shaking is worse than the sound of cannons.

My legs are too weak from a lack of exercising, and almost immediately I collapse onto the ground. "What's happing?" I ask, but I don't expect an answer. No one was there.

I'm alone.

The rumbling stops after what seems like forever. I have just begun to crawl back to my grave when I hear the loud roaring noises that accompany the initial shaking.

I barely have enough time to take a breath before I'm enveloped with water.

My legs are useless. I can't swim. But I do tread water with my arms, and even the slight movement causes me pain. "What's wrong with you?" I demand, "You're a mermaid, aren't you? Mermaids know how to swim, right? So, swim!" I can barely keep my head above the water.

I'm too weak.

Why? Why am I so weak?

"Swim, Annie!" I command myself, and I force my body to move despite the protests. "Kick! Swim! Kick!"

It might be easier if I don't move anymore, and let the water carry me away. Then I can join Davis, where ever he is now.

But I am a natural swimmer. I'm from District Four. I am Annie Cresta, one of the best swimmers at my school. It would be ironic for me to drown, and none of my classmates, Liliana in particular, would ever forgive me if I lost to the sea.

This thought gives me strength, and I move with what little power I had.

"Help! Help!" I hear a scream further downstream, and I paddle toward the voice. If I can save someone, I won't be so useless, right? As I move closer, I find that the screamer is a girl, and she's struggling to keep her head up. "Help me!" she begs, and ends up choking on a mouthful of water.

"Let me," I offer, and reach my arms out to grab her. She flashes me a grateful smile and stops moving completely, trusting me to carry her to safety.

But her weight is too much for me. Her eyes widen with horror as she slip away from my fingers.

And she's gone.

A cannon follows suit as her head disappears into the water.

"No!" I wail, "No! Why must everyone I try to help die?" It must be a curse.

It would be better if I die with her, so I can escape from everything. Dying is better than running, anyway. I've ran enough.

Just as I finally decide to give up moving my arms, Claudius Templesmith's voice is heard above the sound of the roaring waters. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you the winner of the 70th Hunger Games—Annie Cresta!"

Life is cruel.

Disclaimer: The Hunger Games doesn't belong to me!

Yes! Annie won! Well, it was pretty obvious, wasn't it? X3

Special thanks to Cresta83 for being the 250th reviewer!