The arenas are historic sites, preserved after the Games. Popular destinations for Capitol residents to visit, to vacation. Go for a month, rewatch the Games, tour the catacombs, visit the sites where the deaths took place. You can even take part in reenactments. They say the food is excellent
A hysterical young woman with flowing brown hair is also called from 4, but she's quickly replaced by a volunteer, an eighty-year-old woman who needs a cane to walk to the stage.
I don't care if you got knocked up. I can still rip your throat out
You're hideous, you know that, right?
I'm running on hate. When the energy from that ebbs I'll be worthless.
Why? Do you find this" - he strikes a ridiculously provocative pose - "distracting?
Knowing it and seeing it are two different things.
I send a silent thank-you to Dalton for suggesting I wash off the makeup. How ridiculous, how perverse I would feel presenting that painted Capitol mask to these people. The damage, the fatigue, the imperfections. That's how they recognize me, why I belong to them.
This is what birds see. Only they're free and safe. The very opposite of me.
"I don't know how to say it exactly. Only... I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?" he asks. I shake my head. How could he die as anyone but himself. "I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not."
Remember that even in war there is a time for restraint. A time to hold back your sword.
Underground. Which I hate. Like mines and tunnels and 13. Underground, where I dread dying, which is stupid because even if I die aboveground, the next thing they'll do is bury me underground anyway.
Never," said Gregor. "I'll never get rid of you, no matter how hard I try." It was no longer an effort to say the words. "I love you." "I love you, too," said Luxa. After that there was nothing left to say.
I’m in pain. That’s the only way I get your attention
My name is Katniss Everdeen. My home is District Twelve. Peeta was taken prisoner. He is thought to be dead. Most likely is dead. It would probably be best if he were dead... - Katniss EverdeenS
Making knots. Making knots. No word. Making knots. Tick-tock. This is a clock. Do not think of Gale. Do not think of Peeta. Making knots.
No one really needs me," he says, and there is no self-pity in his voice. It's true his family doesn't need him. They will mourn him, as will a handful of friends. But they will get on. Even Haymitch, with the help of a lot of white liquor, will get on. I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me. "I do," I say. "I need you.
So what I'd really like is to try and conceal him somewhere safe, then go hunt, and come back and collect him. But I have a feeling his ego isn't going to go for that suggestion.
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.
It's weird, how much he's noticed me... And apparently, I have not been as oblivious to him as I imagined, either.
Finnick:" Good to see you, Peeta." Peeta:" You be nice to her, Finnick. Or I might try and take her away from you." It could be a joke, if the tone wasn't so cold. Everything it conveys is wrong. The open distrust of Finnick, the implication that Peeta has his eye on Annie, that Annie could desert Finnick, that I do not even exist. Finnick:"Oh Peeta," says Finnick lightly. "Don't make me sorry I restarted your heart.
Better not to give in to it.
I know. I was hoping," I say. "Exactly. Because you're desperate," says Haymitch. I don't argue because, of course, he's right.
Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else's arms have made me feel this safe.
Tomorrow's a hunting day," I say. "I won't be much of a help with that," Peeta says. "I've never hunted before." "I'll kill and you cook," I say. "And you can always gather." "I wish there was some sort of bread bush out there," says Peeta.
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