Part 1: The first day       The first thing i register as the metal plate lifts me up is that it's extremely muggy. I open my closed eyes, and i'm nearly blinded by the white hot, blaring sun. When my eyes refocus, i am able to see where i will most likely die.    In the distance to my right, there's a jungle. The jungle curves around my whole right side, in fact. To my left and under my feet is swamp. The Cornicopia is on a little island of sorts, with a river surrounding it. I decide to take the sixty seconds before the gore begins to decide on my strategy. Should i run for it, and possibly be among the first killed? Or do i run for the thick jungle, and try to live off the land? It's like trying to decide to go left or right down a road, you don't know what's at the end of the road.    I decide quickly that i'm going for the Cornicopia. After all, i ran track in District 10, so i could get in and out fast. Plus, i spot a pack of knifes on the edge of the Cornicopia stockpile. I make that my target, to get those knifes. My knifes, now. Nobody else is touching them. Not on my watch. Maybe, i can get that tent next to it. Who knows?     The gong sounds, and i sprint like I'm running for my life. In a way, i am. Most of the others are dazed from the blinding sun. Good, that means more time for me. I'm the first to splash into the river. It's cold, too cold if you ask me. But, i'm used to it, coming from District 10. By the time i'm out of the river, i see four of five tributes dive in. Already one is dead, laying next to their plate.    I scoop up the pack of knifes, the tent, a heavy backpack, and i'm out. I throw my goodies across the river before i dive in, so they don't get wet. When i emerge from the cold water, some kid, smaller than me, is running for my stuff. I grab a knife out of the pack and throw it at him. It hits him square in the shoulder, and he goes down.My track backround comes in handy, as i dodge three other tributes trying to steal my stuff. Someone follows me into the jungle, but i turn around and trip them, sending them down a steep slope, and run in the opposite direction. Sucker.    The jungle just intensifies the heat, and i find myself soaked in 15 minutes. Time to take a break. A pile of rocks looks real comfy, so i sit down, and look at what i got.    The pack of knifes holds 12, now 11, knifes, all sharp with a wicked curve at the tip. Good for cutting through wood, or bone. The tent is waterproof, so i won't be getting any wetter. The backpack, though, is a gold mine.Inside the backpack, i find two flashlights, a sleeping bag, a first aid kit, a tackle box, a lengh of thick rope, duct tape, and a hatchet. SCORE! I bet half the other tributes didn't get this much goodies. That lightens the mood, sort of. I really think i have a chance. All i have to do is avoid the Careers as much as possible.    That's when i hear the cannons. They signal the deaths. 1...2...3...4...5...6. Only six. Damn, that means 18, including me, are still alive. Why couldn't it be like last year, where 16 tributes died? That was a short Games, but the winner only had to stay five days in the arena.    The next few hours are spent moving the rocks, more like small boulders into a sort of cave structure. I'm proud of my work when i put all my weight against the rocks, and it doesn't budge. Well, that doesn't mean much. I'm small for my age, 14.     As the day gives in to night, i set up my little cave-hut. After i finish putting everything in the cave, i decide to explore quickly. I circle around my clearing, gradully getting farther away. After about 10 minutes i find a stream. Not the one that stretches around the Cornicopia, though.    I run back to my cave, and search for something to hold water. I spot the flashlights, and get an idea. I unscrew the light on one, empty the batteries and springs, and wahlah! Improvised water bottle. I run back to the stream, and fill up the flashlight bottle, and empty it into my mouth in seconds, savoring the cold water. It's a HUGE relief, and the coldness makes me shiver. After a day of hot, humid jungle, this cold water is like a saving grace.     I scoop up as much water as the flashlight will hold, and head back to my camp. It's almost pitch black, too. As i head into the cave, the national anthem plays. I, like the other 17 tributes, look into the sky to see who was killed today. Both from District 5, the girl from District 7, the boy from District 9, and both from District 11. Good, Pat, my District 10 counterpart, is still alive. With this thought in my head, i drift to sleep, unaware of the suprise i'll get when i wake up.

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