Ll I Can Think About,

All The General Fear I've Been Feeling Condenses Into An Immediate Fear Of This Girl, This Predator Who Might Kill Me In Seconds. Adrenaline Shoots Through Me And I Sling The Pack Over One Shoulder And Run Full-speed For The Woods. I Can Hear The Blade Whistling Toward Me And Reflexively Hike The Pack Up To Protect My Head. The Blade Lodges In The Pack. Both Straps On My Shoulders Now, I Make For The Trees. Somehow I Knew The Girl Will Not Pursue Me. That She'll Be Drawn Back Into The Cornucopia Before All The Good Stuff Is Gone. A Grin Crosses My Face. Thanks For The Knife, I Think.

I'm Relieved Peeta's Alive. I Tell Myself Again That If I Get Killed, His Winnings Will Benefit My Mother And Prim The Most. This Is What I Tell Myself To Explain The Conflicting Emotions That Arise When I Think Of Peeta. The Gratitude That He Game An Edge By Professing His Love For Me In The Interview. The Anger At His Superiority On The Roof. The Dread That We May Come Face-to-face At Any Moment In This Arena.

The Evil Thing Is Inside, Not Out.

I'm Not Good At Talking About Myself.

I Think We Put Our Children At An Enormous Disadvantage By Not Educating Them In War, By Not Letting Them Understand About It At An Early Age.