My dear readers.

Again I find myself on my knees, apologizing for my absence. I was on a month-long trip traveling in a different country and there just wasn't time or internet to post. Then when I returned, I had crazy deadlines for my own books and I just couldn't get away to write FanFiction. You've been so patient! I'm sorry to have let you down. Here is the next chapter in Prim's story. I hope to finish the Games during this month. Thank you for sticking with me! I love you all!

35

"Eight of us left." Peeta threw a stick into the river and Prim tried not to think about six people dying. There had to be another way. "I think we should camp out until...the number lessens." He didn't say "...until they kill each other off," but Prim knew that's what he meant.

"I hate the Games," she whispered.

"Me too."

She rolled some nuts around on the palm of her hand. The dark berries she'd carried around in her pocket were mostly smashed and smeared from all the running, fighting, and swimming that happened since she picked them. She took what remained and tossed them in the dirt.

What had happened to everyone?

Glimmer died. Marvel was now alone. What was he doing about it?

Rue and Thresh were alive—they were still together, right? He'd take care of Rue, wouldn't he?

Cato and Clove…alive. Murderous. The greatest threat because they weren't part of the family.

Vixennette the traitor. She still lived. What would Prim do if she encountered her again?

There was no moon tonight. Only stars, and they made the forest and recent experiences feel that much darker and doomed.

Prim's head still swam from the tracker jacker venom. She wouldn't be able to sleep, not after all that happened. "Why do you think Vixennette turned on us?"

"I don't think she was ever on our side."

"She had a good plan."

Peeta nodded, resting his forearms on his knees. "And you had good reflexes. I would have died without you helping me get away from Clove."

"I'm surprised more people didn't die." Actually, the more Prim thought about it, the less surprised she was. That nest had been in Vixennette's pack for days. She even floated it down the river! The tracker jackers were probably suffocating and half were most likely dead. "How did she even get one of those things in her bag?"

Peeta glanced up at the sky. "Probably from the fire. I bet the smoke put them all to sleep or even killed some. Pretty smart on her part."

Prim's breath puffed out in front of her.

When did it get so cold?

Peeta stilled, staring at the river. She followed his gaze. Ice. Ice built on the edge, spreading toward the center. Peeta was on his feet in a flash, building a fire and striking some rocks together. "Quick, gather some water, Prim."

The temperature continued to plummet.

She filled the small bottle that remained, her hands shaking by the time she screwed the cap on. A spark caught light and Peeta blew on it gently. Prim imagined him doing this over the bread ovens every morning. How lucky she was to have him keeping her alive.

Chill seeped into her bones with icy fingers. She wrapped her arms around herself. "Do you think it'll get any colder?"

"Maybe."

"What if the others see our fire?" She tried not to imagine Cato's leering face creeping out of the shadows. But with the way the temperature was dropping, he'd be lucky to survive a trek through the woods.

"We have to risk it. The river's half frozen already."

So was Prim's nose. Were the Gamemakers doing this to kill off more tributes? Hadn't they seen enough death today? Maybe they were angry with her for helping save Thresh…or for not playing by their rules.

The fire crackled loud enough to alert anyone nearby. Prim swiveled her head, peering into the shadows, but their mystery frightened her. Peeta reached for her. "Come here."

She didn't feel awkward letting him hug her to give her warmth. Peeta was big brother. As cool as Gale was, Prim never really saw him as the cozy big brother type. He was more of a hunter, defender, and warrior-type.

"Try to go to sleep."

No. Sleep meant reliving the day's events through memories and dreams. Fear over her family. Too much thinking. She almost wished for tracker jacker venom to send her into a short coma.

"Just try, Prim."

Had he read her mind? She snuggled closer, trying to ignore the faces creeping into her mind. She'd killed Glimmer by letting Vixennette enter the cornucopia area.

Worse than that…she'd killed the boy from 10. No one needed to tell her. Her stone took him down and the tracker jackers did the rest.

Prim was a murderer.

A monster.

She was no different than any of the other killers in these Games and she hated herself for it. What was worse was knowing Katniss and her family back home were probably proud of her for finally killing.

That made everything worse.

A single tear squeezed its way onto her cheek before it froze to her skin.

.

.

To be continued...

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(New posts every week, sometimes sooner.)

~If you like my writing, please check out my own dystopian book, A Time to Die (by Nadine Brandes), on Amazon~

How would you live if you knew the day you'd die? Parvin Blackwater believes she has wasted her life. At only seventeen, she has one year left according to the Clock by her bedside. In a last-ditch effort to make a difference, she tries to rescue Radicals from the government's crooked justice system. But when the authorities find out about her illegal activity, they cast her through the Wall - her people's death sentence. What she finds on the other side about the world, about eternity, and about herself changes Parvin forever and might just save her people. But her clock is running out.