Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.

I can feel my blood pounding.

I release a breath I didn't know I had been holding, my eyes flutter against the bright and warm sunlight that beats down upon my wetsuit clad body.

I immediately look to the cornucopia, my eyes catching a piece of bronze wire that is glittering in the sunlight. It appears to be around thirty feet away, dangerously close to the collection of swords, knives, spears and axes at the mouth of the cornucopia.

With that coil I could create a-

My thoughts are interrupted when I hear a quiet, breathy gasp to my right and turn my head towards the sound quickly, analyzing my fellow tribute.

My first thought is that he is taller by me than at least a foot and which is quickly followed by the realization that he is not gasping: he's laughing. It takes me several seconds to figure it out, he is the male tribute from District Four and he is laughing because he has a chance.

Behind me and stretching for as far as the eye can see there is a clear expanse of water with one pathway of sand that reaches towards the horizon. I gaze at it in abject horror before looking to what is beyond the cornucopia, scrub land. There is no shelter in sight.

I shake my head to banish the beginnings of hysteria, and fix my eyes on the countdown clock.

Twenty seven seconds.

I look to my right again and see the boy grinning dangerously at the weapons, his eyes gaining a predatory glint in them as he looks at this years selection of tributes. His eyes fix one the little twelve year old boy from District Three and they soften marginally before he moves on to the tribute next to him, the heavily muscled girl from District Seven and his gaze hardens once more, eyeing her like a hunter does prey.

Eighteen seconds.

In these last few seconds I look around the arena for my District partner, Ohm. I find him easily enough, his tall and lanky figure mixed with his bright carrot orange hair and freckled face make him exceedingly easy to spot. He appears to be fixated on the strand of beach behind us, his back turned to the cornucopia as he maneuvers into a sprinting position.

I chew my lips nervously, my eyes darting from left to right as I attempt to judge how fast the tributes to my direct left and right will take to get to the cornucopia. I silently assume that the District Four male is quick due to his lean yet muscly body build as well as his score which I can remember now being eight or nine.

Mine was a five.

To my left the small boy from District Twelve also appears to be focused on the cornucopia, but I quickly assess that he is not much of a threat. He breathes deeply and often and merely looks like his ashen skin has been stretched over a skeletal model.

Five.

Four.

I remind myself to breath, I fix my eyes on the copper coil and take my last precious seconds to shift myself into a running position. My eyes harden with determination and I inhale deeply.

One.

I sprint as fast as is physically possible for me towards the cornucopia, my muscles almost screaming due to being used so little. I manage to quickly out strip the boy from District Twelve as I make my way closer towards my target.

District Four is ahead of me, I can see his bronze, curly hair about three feet to my left, he is in front of me by around six feet. I cannot let him get there first otherwise I shall be speared like poor Reesa from two years ago or impaled like Yew, the boy from District Seven the year after.

I grunt as I push myself to give an extra burst of speed, my muscles screaming protest.

I shall not fail like Reesa or Tesla did. I will return home, I will return back to my family. Little Annie who is not really so little any more and mother and father.

I promised them I would win, so win is what I will do.

My throat is burning with exertion and my eyes are watering as I push myself further towards the cornucopia. However he still manages to reach it first, grabbing a metallic silver spear and throws it without so much as looking at the muscled boy from Two, who dodges spectacularly and rolls to his left to grab a broadsword.

I turn my back on their fierce duel, hoping it will buy me more time. I reach the copper coil as the rest of the tributes reach the cornucopia, with the first tributes to be injured joining together to make a cacophony of various sounds.

I grab the coil, my hands holding onto it so tightly that they hurt. I move to flee but my eyes fall on a small dagger perched on the wall a further ten feet into the cornucopia.

I can make that..

With a dagger I can defend myself from mutations better, although several tributes from last year had weapons yet still fell prey to the multi-colored hummingbirds. With this though I can have a better chance of surviving. Maybe being able to defend myself against another tribute.

I look to my left to see the District Ten girl cut down with an ax thrown by the large boy from District Seven. It impales her rib cage with a smack and she is thrown by the force of the blow onto her back the blood pooling around her body as she lays there not moving.

Perhaps not.

I make the decision to run to my right, narrowly missing the boy from District Six's flailing body, a steady trickle of blood streaming out of his nose.

I must have moved too far out of the way because the next thing I know is that I'm airborne

I scream the word ''No!'' as I make a landing with causes me to have a sharp pain in my left knee and lower leg.

I bite my lip to stop me from crying out more or to draw more attention to myself as I attempt to shuffle backwards away from the melee on my hands and knees. The count of bodies grows steadily higher as I shuffle away with three bodies laying on the ground and several more prone and injured.

My effort to not draw attention to myself is in vain. The boy from District Two looks at me, grabs a polished sword and sprints towards me.

I scream. A high, shrieking sound akin to a young child wailing.

I am still screaming when he embeds deep into my stomach, I can feel it going all the way through it and out the other side.

My scream dies away into a wheezing moan which then turns into a quiet gurgle as I fight for breath. He forcefully kicks me, pulling his sword out of my body and I fall onto my side while I gasp for air.

No. This isn't happening, it's too soon!

I said I would win!

I said I would win...

I said I wou-...

My last breath hitches and my body stops all movement, my glassy eyes staring listlessly at the superficial sky above me.