To my disappointment, Peeta isn't at breakfast when I rise the following morning.

"Portia has already taken him," Haymitch says. "We felt it best this way."

"Why?" I say quickly. "I wanted to say goodbye. What if I don't get the chance in the arena?"

I try to swallow down my unease as my heart races in my chest. I desperately want to see Peeta, desperately want to thank him from the bottom of my heart for everything he has ever done for me.

For loving me enough to want to save me.

"Please," I whisper to Haymitch, "I need to see him."

"You need to eat." Haymitch angrily demands, pulling out a chair at the laden filled breakfast table. "It's not my fault that you are as blind as a bat. And hear this from me: you don't deserve that boy. But for some reason he is desperate for you to survive even at his own demise, so do him a god damn favour and at least try. And when you get in there, I want to see you big up that romance as much as you possibly can, and then there may be at least a chance you will both survive this. I think you owe him that at least, don't you?"

"Wait - both?" I stammer, my heart racing even harder at this new nugget of hope. "We can both survive? But how is that possible?"

"You didn't hear this from me but after Peeta's interview, a petition from the people of the Capitol started making its rounds - a petition demanding that Seneca Crane allows two tributes from the same district to win if they both survive till the end."

"What?!" I gasp. This is news. This is huge news. "Does Peeta know about this?"

"Of course he doesn't. That boy wears his heart on his sleeve. If he doubts your sincerity for even a second it will show. He needs to believe that you are really, truly, madly, deeply in love with him for this to work. You understand me?"

My hands shake with this new information. Slowly, I nod.

"Good." Haymitch says, his expression hard and looking more sober than he has ever done in all the time I've known him. "Now eat."

*****

"It's time."

Cinna opens up his arms to me, and I immediately fall into them, hugging him hard.

"I'm scared," I whisper, sounding like a child.

"Of course you are, my dear," he says gently, soothingly stroking my back. "But know this, if I was allowed to bet, then I'd bet on you."

His words help me. I stand tall and immediately toughen up. I think of Ginny, and I think of Harry.

I think of Peeta.

Cinna fingers the long red braid which falls down my right shoulder. When I look down, I see he has pinned Hermione's Mockingjay brooch to my top. He gives me a knowing smile, placing a finger to his lips.

"Now, keep that head held high and show everyone what you're made of in there."

He kisses the top of my head and, with one last nod, I step inside the glass tube.

******

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, LET THE 74TH HUNGER GAMES BEGIN!"

Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!

I spend the next sixty seconds too busy looking around for Peeta instead of making a fool-proof plan of my first move.

When I do eventually find him, he simply shakes his head, as though he knows I am contemplating going into the centre for the weapons.

The gong goes.

The tributes are already running towards the Cornucopia, slashing and bludgeoning each other up with the provided weapons. It is a literal bloodbath.

But I don't do the sensible thing and run towards the forest after Peeta. Instead, I leap off the platform and head towards the bow and sheath of arrows I have my eye on.

But it's impossible, there's too much danger. I go to grab an orange backpack instead so I at least don't leave empty handed. But I end up in a tussle with this fucktard who coughs blood up all over my face.

"Ah fuck, time to get out of here," I mutter quickly to myself as I turn and run.

I narrowly avoid getting decapitated by Clove's hunting knife which sticks itself into my backpack instead.

"Thanks for that," I smirk as I run off into the cover of the forest.

Peeta, I need to find Peeta.

But as soon as I've left the murderous adolescents behind, I realise I have no idea where to find him. And I also know that I need to keep running before one of the other tributes gets to me.

Ignoring my protesting lungs and aching muscles, I run as hard as I can deeper and deeper into the forest.

I don't stop running for what seems like hours, when night begins to fall and the thirst starts to get the better of me. I rest against a tree, desperately searching the backpack for water. Apart from a sleeping bag and other various items, the closest thing I find to quench my burning thirst is an empty flask.

For fuck's sake! Couldn't they have at least filled it with water?

I am fucking grumpy. But I resist the urge to toss the flask against a tree. Instead, I catch my breath, and think about where I need to find water before dehydration gets the better of me.

Feeling that I perhaps do not need to run anymore, I decide to walk to preserve my energy and prevent any further fluid loss through sweat.

I wonder how on earth I am going to find Peeta, and wherever he is even still alive. There were so many cannons going off earlier that I couldn't keep count of the death toll. I like to think that he managed to save himself by running straight into the forest. I was an idiot not to follow because then at least I wouldn't feel so fucking alone right now.

I shiver as the darkness thickens around me. I keep tripping as I can no longer see the forest floor. But I daren't try and light a fire through fear of being located by a bloodthirsty tribute.

So, I decide to climb a tree and set up camp for the night there. Luckily, my backpack contains a rope which I can use to tie myself to the branches, so it wasn't a total failure delaying my escape to get it.

As I look up at the sky from a fifty foot high branch, I see the faces of the fallen tributes illuminated against the arena's ceiling. I breathe a sigh of relief when Peeta's face doesn't show.

Exhausted from all the running and dehydration, it doesn't take me long to fall asleep. However, I am soon awake again when a crackling sound somewhere nearby disturbs my slumber.

Adjusting my vision, I finally see a flickering light through the trees. I roll my eyes. Some idiot has lit a fire. The fucktard is sure to attract the other tributes over here, and I find myself regretting not having grabbed that bow so that I could shoot them dead for their sheer stupidity.

I have little sympathy when she screams for mercy once they find her just minutes later.

I just pray they don't find me.

My ears strain as I hear them brag about their kill.

Wait - hang on a minute- I recognise one of those voices. A voice of a tribute amongst the Careers - a voice of a particular baker boy from District 12:

"We're wasting time! I'll go finish her and let's move on!"

THAT FUCKING TRAITOR!

I am so incensed with rage at Peeta's betrayal that I almost fall out of the tree. I can't believe Haymitch wants me to pretend to be in love with this fucktard!

After they leave, I nod off again, with dreams of strangling Peeta with my bare hands.

The following morning I continue my hunt for water, knowing that if I don't find any today, I could very well die.

"Stupid Haymitch, you fucktard," I mutter under my breath, hoping he's watching and can hear me. "Think you're so clever with your stupid hair, and your stupid sponsors."

I walk until I cannot walk another step. And then I collapse on the ground, pressing my face into the cool patch of mud on the forest floor. Mud, sweet, wet mud.

Wait - WET?!

Holy-fucker-moly, I am saved!

Once I have found the pond the water belongs to, I am so busy congratulating myself on being so smart and clever as I greedily drink up, that I almost don't notice the fire until I'm being trampled by the escaping wildlife.

Fuck my life.

*****

Things go from bad to worse when I am chased up a tree by Peeta and his new crew.

"Look who we have here!" Yodels the tribute from district 2 who I believe to be called Cato. "Lover Girl up in a tree!"

"Yeah, what of it?" I shout back down, refusing to beg for mercy. "Thought I'd admire the view."

Peeta's blue eyes meet mine, but then he swiftly looks away again, guilt written across his face.

Good. So the fucktard should feel guilty.

"Well, if it's that good," Cato smirks, his eyes twinkling as he stares up at me, "then I think I might come up and join you... if Lover Boy doesn't object?"

He glances back at Peeta who shrugs and looks away.

To my amusement, Cato doesn't get very far before he falls back down to the ground. Unfortunately, he does not break his neck on impact, or even squish the others.

"Leave her up there," Peeta says, "she'll have to come down eventually. I suggest we camp down here and wait."

I glare down at the fucktard even though he doesn't look at me. And to think I was going to pretend to be in love with him for the sake of saving his life.

I try not to think about my fate as I watch them settle down. The tributes of district 1 and 2 - the Careers - snuggle up together. Huh. Interesting. Are Glimmer and Cato an item, then? And if so, why would that make me and Peeta special? If the Capitol wants a romance, then they have it right there. Both of them are insanely attractive, and not only that - they're fighters who fight a dirty fight.

Perhaps they are finally starting to back the underdog?

Anyway, when the girl from District 11 - Rue - silently points over to a wasps nest from another tree, I don't hesitate to cut it down with my newly acquired knife and let it fall down on their fucktard heads.

Unfortunately, I get stung too. Quite a few times in fact. But I manage to drop down from the tree in one piece and grab the bow and sheath of arrows from Glimmer's dead body before I pass out.

Yay me.

*****

"RUN, RONNIE! RUN!"

Fuck, I hate that film. I'm just about to moan at Ginny to change the fucktard channel when Peeta's face swims before my eyes.

"RUN, RONNIE! RUN!"

Disoriented, I stagger to my feet, still clutching the bow and arrow kit, and I get as far as ten feet before I pass out again.

Ah, fuck. Here we go again.

*****