The Only Thing Worse Than

A Light Was On In The Kitchen. His Mother Sat At The Kitchen Table, As Still As A Statue. Her Hands Were Clasped Together, And She Stared Fixatedly At A Small Stain On The Tablecloth. Gregor Remembered Seeing Her That Way So Many Nights After His Dad Had Disappeared. He Didn't Know What To Say. He Didn't Want To Scare Her Or Shock Her Or Ever Give Her Any More Pain. So, He Stepped Into The Light Of The Kitchen And Said The One Thing He Knew She Wanted To Hear Most In The World. "hey, Mom. We're Home.

The Glue Of Mutual Need That Bonded Us So Tightly Together For All Those Years Is Melting Away. Dark Patches, Not Light, Show In The Spaces Between Us.

He Never Lets Go Of Annie's Hand. Not When They Walk, Not When They Eat. I Doubt He Ever Plans To.

Let Me Go!” I Snarl At Him, Trying To Wrest My Arm From His Grasp. “i Can’t,” He Says.

Hey. I Just Wanted To Make Sure You Got Home," I Say. "katniss, I Live Three Houses Away From You," He Says.