I know he was desperate. That makes people do all kinds of crazy things.
I'm in pain. That's the only way I get your attention
Making knots. Making knots. No word. Making knots. Tick-tock. This is a clock. Do not think of Gale. Do not think of Peeta. Making knots.
Roses. Wolf mutts. Tributes. Frosted Dolphins. Friends. Mockingjays. Stylists. Me. Everything screams in my dreams tonight.
They don't know that I'm already asking for the moon.
Why? Do you find this...distracting?
But because two can play at this game, I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. Right on his bruise.
Here's some advice. Stay alive.
I stand there unmoving while they take part in the boldest form of dissent they can manage. Silence.
It's my new best friend, Claudius Templesmith, and as I expected it, he's inviting us to a feast.
My mother says healers are born, not made.
Remember, we're madly in love, so it's all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it.
The heat of the bread burned into my skin, but I clutched it tighter, clinging to life.
What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me... no competition... best thing that ever happened to you...
As coal pressured into pearls by our weighty existence. Beauty that arose out of pain.
I can't fight the sun. I can only watch helplessly as it drags me into a day that I've been dreading for months. Katniss Everdeen
If you die and i live there's no life for me back in District 12. You're my whole life. I would never be happy again.
My nightmares are usually about losing you. I'm okay once I realize you're here.
The main thing I feel is a sense of relief. That I can give up this game. That the question of whether I can succeed in this venture has been answered, even if that answer is a resounding no. That if desperate times call for desperate measures, I am free to act as desperately as I want.
You've got to go through it to get to the end of it.
Cleaning me up is just a preliminary step to determining my new look. With my acid-damaged hair, sunburned skin, and ugly scars, the prep team has to make me pretty and then damage, burn, and scare me in a more attractive way.
I merely feel emptyness. A hollow of dead brush where flowers use to bloom.
I'm not flailing now, as my muscles are rigid with the tension of holding myself together.
Maybe everyone is just trying to protect me by lying to me. I don't care. I'm sick of people lying to me for my own good.
She genuinely likes people. All people, not just a select few she's spent years making up her mind about.
They more than do their work, they take pride in it. Like Cinna.
Yeah, we wouldn't want to lose our little Mockingjay when she's finally begun to sing.
But don't worry; as I've been saying - and this has been very clever of me, I'm sure you'll agree - if you put enough pressure on coal, it'll turn to pearls!
He's dozed off again, but I kiss him awake, which seems to startle him. Then he smiles as if he's be happy to lie there gazing at me forever.
I take his hand, holding it tightly, preparing for the cameras, and dreading the moment I will finally have to let go.
It's not easy to find a topic. Talking of home is painful. Talking of the present unbearable.
My nightmares are usually about losing you.
Scores only matter if they're very good, no one pays much attention to the bad or mediocre ones.
The most exciting thing either of us does is nap.
Whatever the truth is, I don't see how it will help me get food on the table.
As the alcohol overcomes my mind, I hear the glass bottle shatter on the floor. This seems appropriate since I have obviously lost my grip on everything.
I do think you're mad and I'll still go with you.
I'm filled with awe, as I always am, as I watch her transform from a woman who calls me to kill a spider to a woman immune to fear.
No wonder I won the Games. NO decent person ever does.
The morphlings from District 6 are in the camouflage station, painting each other's faces with bright pink swirls.
A need for revenge can burn long and hot. Especially if every glance in a mirror reinforces it.
Delly lost her temper at Peeta over how he treated you. She got very squeaky. It was like someone stabbing a mouse with a fork repeatedly.
I miss home badly sometimes. But then I remember there's nothing left to miss anymore. I feel safer here.
I'm on a frosting sailboat, tossed around by blue-green waves, the deck shifting beneath my feet.
Mostly we just add to the piles of rainbow glass that's been blown off the exteriors of the cany-colored buildings.
Slowly, with many lost days, I come back to life.
They play in the Meadow. The dancing girl with the dark hair and blue eyes. The boy with blond curls and gray eyes, struggling to keep up with her on his chubby toddler legs. It took five, ten, fifteen years for me to agree. But Peeta wanted them so badly. When I first felt her stirring inside of me, I was consumed with a terror that felt as old as life itself. Only the joy of holding her in my arms could tame it.
You can't miss your schedule. Every morning, you're supposed to stick your right arm in this contraption in the wall. It tattoos the smooth inside of your forearm with your schedule for the day in a sickly purple ink. 7:00-Breakfast. 7:30-Kitchen Duties. 8:30-Education Center, Room 17. And so on. The ink is indelible until 22:00-Bathing
But just the fact that he was sparkling leads me to doubt everything that happened.
Hope is the only thing stronger than fear.
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