Who Says I Can't Handle

If The Careers Want Me, Let Them Find Me.

It Must Be Very Fragile, If A Handful Of Berries Can Bring It Down.

This Is No Place For A Girl On Fire.

To The Everlasting Credit Of The People Of District 12, Not One Person Claps. Not Even The Ones Holding Betting Slips, The Ones Who Are Usually Beyond Caring. Possibly Because They Know Me From The Hob, Or Knew My Father, Or Have Encountered Prim, Who No One Could Help Loving. So Instead Of Acknowledging Applause, I Stand There Unmoving While They Take Part In The Boldest Form Of Dissent They Can Manage. Silence. Which Says We Do Not Agree. We Do Not Condone. All Of This Is Wrong.

I Can't Help Comparing What I Have With Gale To What I'm Pretending To Have With Peeta. How I Never Question Gale's Motives While I Do Nothing But Doubt The Latter's. It's Not A Fair Comparison Really. Gale And I Were Thrown Together By A Mutual Need To Survive. Peeta And I Know The Other's Survival Means Our Own Death. How Do You Sidestep That?