Technically, I am unarmed. But no one should ever underestimate the harm that fingernails can do. Especially if the target is unprepared.
And once we reach the city, my stylist will dictate my look for the opening ceremonies tonight anyway. I just hope I get one who doesn't think nudity is the last word in fashion.
I have been keeping track of the boy with the bread.
Just remember, stealing's punishable by death
Somehow it always comes back to coal at school.
You come here to finish me off, sweetheart?
I do think you're mad and I'll still go with you.
No wonder I won the Games. NO decent person ever does.
A need for revenge can burn long and hot. Especially if every glance in a mirror reinforces it.
I miss home badly sometimes. But then I remember there's nothing left to miss anymore. I feel safer here.
Mostly we just add to the piles of rainbow glass that's been blown off the exteriors of the cany-colored buildings.
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.
But just the fact that he was sparkling leads me to doubt everything that happened.
I want to show them that they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games.
Myself? That's no good, either.
The numbness of his loss had passed, and the pain would hit me out of nowhere, doubling me over, racking my body with sobs. Where are you? I would cry out in my mind. Where have you gone? Of course, there was never any answer.
Aim higher in case you fall short.
I never see these things coming. They happen too fast. One second you're proposing an escape plan and the next...
Something flickers across his bloodshot eyes. Pain.
But I don't know what to him about the aftermath of killing a person. About how they never leave you.
I'll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I'm afraid it could be taken away.
Poison. The perfect weapon for a snake.
What? My head doctor says I'm not supposed to censor my thoughts. It's part of my therapy.
Haymitch said you'd take a lot of convincing.
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.
People deal with me, but they are genuinely fond of Prim. Maybe there will be enough fondness to keep her alive.
We will not just be another piece in their games
Come on and eat with him. I promise, I won't let him kiss you again.
Isn't it strange that I know you'd risk your life to save mine... but I don't know what your favorite color is?
They're a little strange, but I'm pretty sure neither of them is going to try to make me uncomfortable by stripping naked.
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