We're only two reviews away from one-hundred!

Also, c4tchingfire, really sorry that I haven't mentioned Julius since the Bloodbath. I'll make up for it.

Also, go to my profile! The form for The 126th Hunger Games: Reflections is up! Submit guys! It's the sequel to this!

SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING SOON. I WAS REALLY BUSY AND HAVING WRITER'S BLOCK. EXPECT ANOTHER CHAPTER TODAY.

Serena Dragimir, District Three

I lean against the cool metal of the Cornucopia, taking watch. My fingers are wrapped tightly around my scythe as I struggle not to fall asleep.

Nightmares. I can't go to sleep because of them. I know my dreams will be full of them; full of the screams of Gyrke Botre and the boy from District Eight. Full of blood. I can't bear to see it anymore. I killed people I haven't even said a word to.

I drop the weapon abruptly and put my head between my knees. It's even worse than last time... I can still see that boy from yesterday, still hear his sobs, and I'm still wondering why I did it.

It's because you want to win, I think. It was for your survival.

No. I didn't need to do it. I could've let him go.

He'd get killed anyways.

I sit back up, teeth clenched. You never really 'win' this sick game. You survive. You're victorious. But not a 'winner'. A winner would be happy. I'm not happy. I killed people. That's not 'happy'. That's not fair. That's survival.

I bend over to pick up the scythe and stop short. A face. I can see a face in the silver metal. A reflection. Is that me? No. It's not me. I can't be.

I, Serena Dragimir, do not have frizzy, matted natural black hair with used-to-be red highlights that are bleaching from time. I, Serena Dragimir, do not have sickly pale skin. I, Serena Dragimir, do not have wild, psychopath eyes; the eyes of a killer. I, Serena Dragimir, do not have purple bags under my eyes. I, Serena Dragimir, am not so thin that I can easily count my ribs.

Because that reflection is not Serena Dragimir, that reflection is me. Because, Serena Dragimir is not a killer. At least, she wasn't. I can really no longer call myself Serena Dragimir. I've brought too much dishonor to that name. (A/N: Mulan much?)

Footfall. Steps. I grab the scythe in my hand tightly and turn around, poised to strike, but lower the weapon when I see who's coming toward me.

Acacia. I drop the scythe as she approaches.

"Go back to bed, Serena. It's my watch," she says in a sleepy voice. I shake my head, though I can nearly guarantee she can't see me. I put my hand in front of my face. Perfect dark.*

"No. I'm fine. Go to sleep," I tell her flatly. She steps closer, I think. Not that I can actually see her.

"Serena. It's my watch. Go. Sleep," she insists.

"I'm fine, go get some rest," I tell her, a bit harsher than before.

"Serena-"

"I said I'm fine!" I shout at her, throwing my scythe in what I'm guessing is her general direction. Did it hit her? Miss? Graze her arm? I don't know, but I guess she's finally given in to walking away, back to the tent.

I get up to grab my weapon. So this is what it's like to be blind, I think as I walk around, feeling my way. I have a flashlight, but it would most likely hurt me, not help me. A flashlight is like waving a glow in the dark neon flag. Come and get me. I'm right here. A tribute magnet.

A death wish.

I reach over my shoulder and fumble with the zipper of my back pack. It opens reluctantly and I close my hand around a small box. Matches. Not as welcoming to the others as a flashlight or fire.

I stick my fingers in the box and grab a match. I set it, using the side of the box. I can nearly see a few feet in front of me. I look around, the small fire in my hand, and I finally find my weapon. I walk over, careful not to trip over the small, jagged pebbled and the long stalagmites poking out of the ground, threatening my every step. I bend over and grab it.

And then there are more foot steps. I turn, in position to strike. No one there?

Then I see it. A mane of curly, long, golden blonde hair. Another tribute.

I'll admit it, she's been completely under my radar the whole Games. I can't remember this girl's name or District. I stand up completely and look at what she does.

The makes sure no one's awake, and fails at that; as I'm watching her right now and takes some of our food.

"And what, exactly, do you think you're doing?"

She turns to me and immediatley drops everything. The girl's face goes pale and she steps back. "S-Stealing isn't against the r-rules," she tells me.

I smirk. "And neither is killing those who steal," I say. But I know I won't kill her. I can't possibly kill anyone else. I can injure her, that wouldn't hurt me as much. But I can't kill her.

With that, I throw my scythe at the now running girl, and it sticks in her side. She yelps in pain, and realizes it a second before I do.

The girl stops and yanks my weapon out of her side. She smiles, I can barely see her face with the light of the match, and waves the scythe at me, taunting, and runs off as fast as she can, her new weapon in hand.

I mutter a few things under my breath and walk back to the Cornucopia. I throw my old match down and stomp on it. I reach in to the match box and strike a match and start running after her.

I'm not as good with a sword, I'll definitely admit to that. I won't be able to inflict as much damage as I wish.

Where in the world did she go? I think to myself angrily as I run through the tunnels as fast as I can. I'm about to give up when I see her hair flow after her as she turns the corner.

"There you are," I whisper to myself evilly. I'm guessing she's stopped to take a breath. I take more caution to be stealthy as I approach her.

"Going somewhere?"

She turns to me and her face goes pale. "N-no, but I wish you would," she says, but the stuttering really brings down the threat of the comeback. I grin.

"Sorry, honey, but you won't always get what you wish for," And with that, I slash at her.

The blonde barely dodges, then she goes red with anger. She swings the scythe at me, only to have me expertly dodge it. She winces as blood pours out of her wound. I smirk. "Poor girl, if only the pain would end..." I pause, and mock thinking. "Oh yeah, I could do that for you. You'll never feel pain again!" And I lunge at her and she dodges just in time to avoid a fatal hit, but the blade cuts her arm a bit. Not deep.

She flushes with rage and swings the scythe at me. And this time, I do get hit. Certainly not deep enough to get killed, but the weapon left a cut across my stomach. I try not to wince or flinch, but it isn't fun getting hit with a weapon. It stings.

"Why you little..,"

And in the short time it took me to recover, she's gone.

I scream out of rage and kick a few rocks at the wall. I could always follow the blood trail she's leaving, but the other Careers will be wondering where I am. I clench my fists and teeth.

Stupid little girl.