I Take Peeta's Face In

That It's No Good Loving Me Because I'm Never Going To Get Married Anyway And He'd Just End Up Hating Me Later Instead Of Sooner.

Beetee Is Still Messing Round The Tree, Doing I Don't Know What. At One Point He Snaps Off A Sliver Of Bark, Joins Us, And Throws It Against The Force Field. It Bounces Back And Lands On The Ground, Glowing. In A Few Moments It Returns To Its Original Color. "well, That Explains A Lot," Says Beetee. I Look At Peeta And Can't Help Biting My Lip To Keep From Laughing Since It Explains Absolutely Nothing To Anyone But Beetee.

"i'm Not Their Slave," The Man Mutters. "i Am," I Say. "that's Why I Killed Cato ... And He Killed Thresh ... And He Killed Clove ... And She Tried To Kill Me. It Just Goes Around And Around, And Who Wins? Not Us. Not The Districts. Always The Capitol. But I'm Tired Of Being A Piece In Their Games."

She’s Really Gone, Then. The Little Girl With The Back Of Her Shirt Sticking Out Like A Duck Tail, The One Who Needed Help Reaching The Dishes, And Who Begged To See The Frosted Cakes In The Bakery Window. Time And Tragedy Have Forced Her To Grow Too Quickly, At Least For My Taste, Into A Young Woman Who Stitches Bleeding Wounds And Knows Our Mother Can Hear Only So Much.

I'm Running On Hate. When The Energy From That Ebbs I'll Be Worthless.