Not Only Does He Hate Me, And

I Wrap My Arms Around His Neck, Feel His Arms Hesitate Before They Embrace Me. Not As Steady As They Once Were, But Still Warm And Strong. A Thousand Moments Surge Through Me. All The Times These Arms Were My Only Refuge From The World. Perhaps Not Fully Appreciated Then, But So Sweet In My Memory, And Now Gone For Ever.

I'm Almost There, Almost To The Barricade, When I Thinks She Hears Me. Because For Just A Moment, She Catches Sight Of Me, Her Lips Form My Name. And That's When The Rest Of The Parachutes Go Off.

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

I'm Unaware That My Feet Are Moving To The Table Until I'm Inches From The Holograph. My Hand Reaches In And Cups A Rapidly Blinking Green Light. Someone Joins Me, His Body Tense. Finnick, Of Course. Because Only A Victor Would See What I See So Immediately. The Arena. Laced With Pods Controlled By Gamemakers. Finnick's Fingers Caress A Steady Red Glow Over A Doorway. "ladies And Gentlemen..." His Voice Is Quiet, But Mine Rings Through The Room. "let The Seventy-sixth Hunger Games Begin!

He Wants As Many Victors As Possible For The Cameras To Follow In The Capitol. Thinks It Makes For Better Television." "are You And Beetee Going?" I Ask. "as Many Young And Attractive Victors As Possible," Haymitch Corrects Himself. "so, No. We'll Be Here.