A loud voice boomed in my ears, causing me to throw the branch I was setting into place in attempt to fix the broken trap I made in the beginning of the games.

"Attention, tributes. There will be a feast hosted in the cornucopia. This will not be any ordinary event. All of you need something, and we would like to be... Generous hosts." The voice said.

This was absolutely a miracle. I have tried everything I knew to try and recover the gash in my right leg- which was not a lot of things to try- and still, it has been getting worse. I haven't even been able to stand on my right leg without falling onto my knees and whining.

I got up, determined to get whatever was at the feast. Limping in my left leg, I hobbled over to the cornucopia where I instantly ducked under a bush. Someone was coming, I could hear the steps of feet and the rubbing of pant legs. I recognized Katniss' bouncing brown hair as she moved along the grass to a container wrapped with silver paper and the number 12 on it. Next to it was 11's container, then came mine, later was the last one. District 2.

Katniss was halfway to the container when a silver shining metal struck her forehead. Clove was already pouncing onto Katniss, her hair dangling at her shoulders. She took her knife, laying the blade on her neck. Oh, this was it! She can come after me all she wants, but when she starts going after those I care for, it's time to die.

Hopping to the left, I grabbed one of the bows from the ground. I lifted the curved metal in front of my face. One of the arrows flew through the air and, surprisingly, hit Clove squarely in the shoulder. I jumped up, throwing Clove off of Katniss' body and throwing the knife out of her hand. As she was struggling to push me off, I reached over my shoulder and grabbed one of the arrows hanging off my back. Using it like a knife, I stabbed the stick accurately into her chest.

Clove laid motionless now, her eyelids falling slowly. I stood up, looking at Katniss. I reached over to the container and hurried off back to the woods, my heart pounding loudly. So that was my weapon all along, huh? A bow and arrow. After all this time.

After standing here for all this time like an idiot, I finally decided to open up what was in the little package. I opened up the lid to find one jar of yellowish goo. It was probably for my leg since I have had that nasty cut for whno know how long now. Perhaps a cream or medication.

I sat down, rubbing the thick, soft gel onto my lower thigh and down to my knee where the cut had been. So this was the first step to healing my leg. After that would probably be a cast or something judging by the swelling and soreness.

Either way, this left food to be my number one priority. Without finding it soon, I would not live to see my leg heal. So, now that I have gotten that little issue out of the way, I headed out to the little field with berrie plants growing left and right. I had to take my time. One wrong berry and I would be dead on the floor in less than a minute, a time-taking process in finding the right ones.

But when rustling bushes sounded, I grabbed a random handful of berries, running to a nearby tree. I heaved myself up onto the branches, clutching onto each berry a I climbed. When I sat, I realized I wasn't the only one in search of food. A large wolf-like dog good at the foot of the tree, his jaw opened widely and a line of hungry drool hanging off his upper lip. This was not going to be easy. The dog pawed at the tree trunk longingly as he snapped his jaw shut over and ver again as though a piece of fresh meat was dangling an inch out of his reach. After that, a loud male scream and the boom of a cannon convinced the dog enough to leave his chance of grub.

I let out a long, relieved sigh, climbing slowly down the tree. Careful not to slip or break a branch and fall the the ground, I made my way down to the ground, letting my feet touch the ground lightly. I ran in the opposite direction the dog came from. Still, I had to find out which one of the tributes died. It had to be either Peeta, Thresh, or Cato. One of the three would not make it back home.

I trudged down the dirt and moss to a short, leafy tree. I put my back onto it and examined the berries. Were they safe? I would have to take the chance. Of I didn't eat soon I would either puke or die from hunger. So I was taking the chance of dying either way. Hunger? Or nightlock? Which was a better way to die, I did not know, but the hunger was too much already. I popped the berries into my mouth, chewing slowly but hungrily. If, for some reason, the nightlock would taste any different, my hunger blocked any change in taste. Apparently the hunger blocked out everything but the satisfactions of eating at last.

Getting up, my head spun and my legs weakened. I couldn't get fully balanced in time. I fell over to my knees, my eyes tearing as I gripped my right leg and rolled over onto the ground, holding my sore leg up to my chest. My head spun faster and faster. Loosing consciousness was definitely one thing that was going to happen eventually, but my dying or staying alive was a complete mystery at this moment. Not until my head hit the ground with light weight did I know for sure. Now I knew, I knew that I was not going to make it this time. I got lucky that time with the tracker jackers. This time, I had no one to take care of me. I made the dumb mistake of not examining the berries.

One sight stood out in front of the blur of moving earth. I saw home. Home in District 5. Where I had the worry of being reaped into the Hunger Games. Now I got to finally live it. Live life in the games. I lived the life in the games. Now it was time to end it. I was never fit to win it anyway. To say goodbye, there was one more thing I wanted to do. With all the concentration and might left in me, I lifted my hand, placing my three fingers onto my lips. Holding my hand in the air, my eyes began to shut. My arm fell to the ground, my eyes shut now. It is time, now to say goodbye to the games, and hello to what I renew my purpose in the games really was.

In honor of Foxface, I would like to give a big thanks to her, District 5, and mostly Susan Collins. Foxface will be dearly missed in our hearts. We never wanted to say goodbye to her. LOVE FOXFACE FOREVER!