Because When He Sings...even The Birds Stop

Desperate, Yet No Longer Alone After That Day, Because We'd Found Each Other.

When I Wake, I Have A Brief, Delicious Feeling Of Happiness That Is Somehow Connected With Peeta. Happiness, Of Course, Is A Complete Absurdity At This Point, Since At The Rate Things Are Going, I'll Be Dead In A Day. And That's The Best-case Scenario, If I'm Able To Eliminate The Rest Of The Field, Including Myself, And Get Peeta Crowned As The Winner Of The Quarter Quell. Still, The Sensation's So Unexpected And Sweet I Cling To It, If Only For A Few Moments. Before The Gritty Sand, The Hot Sun, And My Itching Skin Demand A Return To Reality.

We Each Get Fifteen Minutes Before The Gamemakers To Amaze Them With Our Skills, But I Don't Know What Any Of Us Might Have To Show Them. There's A Lot Of Kidding About It At Lunch. What We Might Do. Sing, Dance, Strip, Tell Jokes. Mags, Who I Can Understand A Little Better Now, Decides She's Just Going To Take A Nap.

Keep Calm And Have A Sugar Cube

If It's True, Why Do They Leave Us To Live Like This? With The Hunger And The Killings And The Games?" And Suddenly I Hate This Imaginary Underground City Of District 13 And Those Who Sit By, Watching Us Die. They're No Better Than The Capitol.