Well, I hope you liked it. Pray that I get my inspiration back. PLEASE. Or try to inspire me. Give me some tips to get inspired again. Yell at me and make me feel even worse for not updating in FOREVER (seriously, maybe it'll help). Forgive me, I AM VERY SORRY.

I AM ALSO SORRY FOR AGGRESSIVELY DEMANDING REVIEWS. I AM DEGRADING MYSELF AND MY STORY BY DOING SO. I DON'T NEED A SPECIFIC NUMBER OF REVIEWS TO UPDATE. I WAS BEING IMMATURE.

THE AMOUNT OF REVIEWS YOU GET DOESN'T DEFINE THE WORTH OF YOUR STORIES. WHAT MATTERS IS THAT YOU ARE PLEASED WITH WHAT YOU'VE SPILLED OUT.

PLEASE READ BOTH THE AUTHOR'S NOTES!

Most say that in the blackened sky there is no hope, no happiness. It's the opposite for me. I sought refuge in the blank sheet that shielded me from the Careers.

I shifted uncomfortably in my make-shift bed. A black thin, polyester thing that served as my sleeping bag looked as though it would tear with the slightest movement. To be safe, I've strapped myself to one of the highest branches in the tree with a thick rope.

While the beds at home weren't worthy of comparison to the ones in the Capitol, I longed for my old mattress with its broken springs. I wriggled into a somewhat pleasant position, even though the tree bark was cruel to my back. The rope made it difficult to move, but I would've probably died without it coiled around my waist.

It kept me hidden from the foul Career pack. Ever since I can remember, I've always likened them with demonic creatures. The way that they preferred to prowl in the night, the recklessness of their fatal blows and the gruesome laugh that sounded shortly afterwards made them seem malignant to me – almost all of them actually were.

That year's Career pack was dysfunctional and they lacked the necessary logic that was about as important as the weapon-wielding. Their leader, a brutish boy named Cato, thought about nothing but the raising death toll in the Games.

All the stares we've exchanged and the manner in which he presented himself during the interview was clear proof that he believed all the other tributes to be nothing but minor obstacle in his route to being victorious. He reeked of arrogance.

Even though he presented himself as a blood-thirsty lethal weapon – which he was – I knew he had an obvious weak spot, which, at the time, I thought was his intellect.

The sensible one in the group was his district partner. She was a small feisty thing – perhaps even a pixie – who flung knives at every living entity – apart from the Careers, of course. While I wouldn't exactly call her 'sensible', she seemed to be smartest of them all.

The District One tributes seemed too fragile and egotistic to pay attention to their mission in the arena. While they managed to murder children, they didn't seem particularly interested in the Games itself. I'm sure they love the recognition they received for the whole affair and that all the tributes would magically die so that they could win. Don't get me wrong, though, they were just as lethal as any other Career. They just weren't smart enough to pull it off.

There was one District Four girl in the Career pack and while she was skilled with spears, she was no match for the District One boy. Her district partner was too 'weak' to be in the Career pack, so she drove a spear into his skull during the bloodbath.

Despite the fact that they all yearned for the sweet taste of victory, they humbly respected and obeyed their alpha, Cato, who wanted to win no matter what the cost would be. I think that he'd kill his own family for a chance to be the new 'Finnick Odair'.

The smell of smoke disrupted my train of thought. At first I believed it to be a rouse by the Gamemakers to lure me into the open. It was only the District girl warming herself in small, yet cheerful flames.

Only a moron would light a fire in the middle of the night while trying to shield themselves from oncoming danger. I wanted to yell and tell her to put it out before the Careers slayed us both, but I held my tongue and cursed mentally.

I heard her teeth chatter in the dead of the night. There weren't any crickets or frogs or anything of that sort. Just the two of us in an eerie almost-silence, trying to stay alive. Of course, she wasn't doing a very good job of trying to stay alive.

She was dull and uneventful – and of course, an easy target – so I turned my head the other way, banishing all thoughts that had to do with the heedless girl.

What happened next was a swift movement of screaming and begging and laughing. When the crying ceased and the cannon blasted, the laughing refused to die down.

The voices travelled closer to my tree and below me, I saw vicious carnivores approach. I couldn't make out their faces clearly in the dark, but their movements spoke volumes. The Careers swaggered and chatted casually.

"Don't kill me! I'll do anything!" A female voice mocked. The rest of the pack burst into maniacal laughter. "Oh man, that was funny."

"Clove, how many times have you been told not to play with your prey?" said another voice.

"That's the best part." The girl, Clove, laughed.

"The best part is slicing up the bones." Argued the other voice.

"But the desperate pleas and bargaining are so delicious!" she responded, "Who can resist?"

"Shut up you fools, you'll scare the meat!" said a new voice. "Now, loverboy, where did you say the Girl on Fire is?"

Loverboy?

I strained my eyes to get a view at this so-called loverboy. When my eyes met with ashy-blond hair and a stocky frame, I felt my teeth clench and my fingers curl into a fist.

Peeta Mellark, the boy who saved my life, the boy who announced his love for me on national television, was plotting against me. I knew he was a liar. He must have faked his undying adoration for me to throw me off-balance.

The boy didn't know what he had found himself in. I thought violent thoughts and felt the Career in me cheering for his blood on the bakery floor. I imagined finding him in the dead of the night and spearing his head through a tree with one of those magnificent, perfectly-tapered silver arrows that the District One girl had.

More than anger, however , I felt betrayal. His façade of a worried lover and our rooftop conversation were crumbling. I didn't understand how it would get him more sponsors if he deceived his 'star-crossed lover'.

"Which way did she go, lover boy?" Cato asked.

"I saw run in this direction," Peeta said and pointed straight ahead.

"North," Clove muttered.

Cato searched the perimeter until his eyes wandered over to the tree I was perched upon. He directed his icy gaze towards Peeta. "You better be right."

Peeta nodded fervently and directed the Careers north in their vigilant endeavour to murder all opposition that obscured their path to glory. My loverboy is leaving me for dead.

I could have sworn Cato looked me dead in the eye.

Did Cato see her? Why didn't he attack her? WHAT IS THE BLOODY, BRUTAL CATO PLANNING?

You'll just have to wait and see. NO it is not because he's in looove with her! It isn't his sympathy for the Girl on Fire, heck, he wants her DEAD. But he's just smarter than he looks, I'll give you that much.

I want to give a warm thank you to everyone who read the previous chapters and also to those who reviewed it. All your reviews are strongly appreciated.

If you enjoyed this chapter, drop a review. You can say whatever you wanna. Constructive criticism is very welcome. Is anyone OOC? Is my grammar/spelling okay? Is there anything that puts you off the story? Heck, flamers – I have distaste for your kind – you're welcome, too!

Just be honest. Blatantly so.

As you all know, I find it crucial to keep the characters, well, perfectly in character! I have to warn you, they may tend to sway off-key every now and then (after all, it is fanfiction!) but I will try my best to keep them in character and as far away from the horrific land of OOCs as possible.

I'm serious about the ' inspiration thing'. Please help me. I think that I was trying to please everyone else instead of myself. You gotta love what you write. And I love this story and my other stories. I hope that I find my muse again and that I can rekindle the CATONISS spark because this really the most beautiful ship to me. Everything about their relationship is a challenge and it's so unusual – that's the best part about writing Catoniss because you always need to be outside the box. WHERE ARE MY MURDEROUS CATONISS FEELS WHEN I NEED THEM MOST?