Because I Can't Handle The Nightmares. Not

My Words Hang In The Air. I Look To The Screen, Hoping To See Them Recording Some Wave Of Reconciliation Going Through The Crowd. Instead I Watch Myself Get Shot On Television.

Well You Are A Piece Of Work Aren't You?

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

Charred Bits Of Black Silk Swirl Into The Air, And Pearls Clatter To The Stage… I’m In A Dress Of The Exact Design Of My Wedding Dress, Only It’s The Color Of Coal And Made Of Tiny Feathers. Wonderingly, I Lift My Long, Flowing Sleeves Into The Air, And That’s When I See Myself On The Television Screen. Clothed In Black Except For The White Patches On My Sleeves. Or Should I Say My Wings. Because Cinna Had Turned Me Into A Mockingjay.

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.