Eyes On The Forest, Not

In One Horrible Moment The Last Piece Of The Prophecy Became Clear. So Bid Him Take Care, Bid Him Look Where He Leaps, As Life May Be Death And Death Life Again Reaps. He Had To Leap, And By His Death, The Others Would Live. That Was It. That Was What Sandwich Had Been Trying To Say All Along, And By Now He Believed In Sandwich. He Put On A Final Burst Of Speed, Just Like The Coach Taught Him In Track. He Gave Everything He Had. In The Last Few Steps Before The Canyon He Felt A Sharp Pain In The Back Of His Leg, And Then The Ground Gave Way Under His Feet. Gregor The Overlander Leaped.

I'm Relieved Peeta's Alive. I Tell Myself Again That If I Get Killed, His Winnings Will Benefit My Mother And Prim The Most. This Is What I Tell Myself To Explain The Conflicting Emotions That Arise When I Think Of Peeta. The Gratitude That He Game An Edge By Professing His Love For Me In The Interview. The Anger At His Superiority On The Roof. The Dread That We May Come Face-to-face At Any Moment In This Arena.

Once I'm On My Feet I Realize Escape Might Not Be So Simple, Panic Begins To Set In. I Can't Stay Here. Flight Is Essential But I Can't Let My Fear Show. Winning Means Fame And Fortune, Losing Mean Certain Death, The Hunger Games Have Begun . . .

It Starts At Midnight.

I Carefully Lay Out The Provisions. One Thin Black Sleeping Bag That Reflects Body Heat. A Pack Of Crackers. A Pack Of Dried Beef Strips. A Bottle Of Iodine. A Box Of Wooden Matches. A Small Coil Of Wire. A Pair Of Sunglasses. And A Half-gallon Plastic Bottle With A Cap For Carrying Water That's Bone Dry. No Water. How Hard Would It Have Been For Them To Fill Up The Bottle?