I Know. I Was Hoping," I Say.

He Hasn't Accepted His Death. He Is Already Fighting Hard To Stay Alive. Which Also Means That Kind Peeta Mellark, The Boy Who Gave Me Bread, Is Fighting Hard To Kill Me.

The Woods Always Look Different At Night...as If The Daytime Trees And Flowers And Stones Had Gone To Bed And Sent Slightly More Ominous Versions Of Themselves To Take Their Places.

I'm Very Hard To Catch," Says Rue. "and If They Can't Catch Me, They Can't Kill Me. So Don't Count Me Out.

I’m In Pain. That’s The Only Way I Get Your Attention

I Can See The First Apple Teetering When I Let The Third Arrow Go, Catching The Torn Flap And Ripping It From The Bag. For A Moment, Everything Seems Frozen In Time. Then The Apples Spill To The Ground And I'm Blown Backward Into The Air.