And Then He Gives Me

Sometimes When Things Are Particularly Bad, My Brain Will Give Me A Happy Dream. [...] When I Fully Awaken, I'm Momentarily Comforted. I Try To Hold On To The Peaceful Feeling Of The Dream, But It Quickly Slips Away, Leaving Me Sadder Than Ever.

You Can’t Miss Your Schedule. Every Morning, You’re Supposed To Stick Your Right Arm In This Contraption In The Wall. It Tattoos The Smooth Inside Of Your Forearm With Your Schedule For The Day In A Sickly Purple Ink. 7:00—breakfast. 7:30—kitchen Duties. 8:30—education Center, Room 17. And So On. The Ink Is Indelible Until 22:00—bathing

It’s The Final Word In Camouflage. Forget Chucking Weights Around. Peeta Should Have Gone Into His Private Session With The Gamemakers And Painted Himself Into A Tree. Or A Boulder. Or A Muddy Bank Full Of Weeds.

You're Punishing Him Over And Over For Things That Are Out Of His Control. Now, I'm Not Saying You Shouldn't Have A Fully Loaded Weapon Next To You Round The Clock. But I Think It's Time You Flipped This Little Scenario In Your Head. If You'd Been Taken By The Capitol, And Hijacked, And Then Tried To Kill Peeta, Is This The Way He Would Be Treating You?" Demands Haymitch. I Fall Silent. It Isn't. It Isn't How He Would Be Treating Me At All. He Would Be Trying To Get Me Back At Any Cost. Not Shutting Me Out, Abandoning Me, Greeting Me With Hostility At Every Turn.

I Wonder If Effie Will Still Be Wearing That Silly Pink Wig, Or Is She'll Be Sporting Some Other Unnatural Color Especially For The Victor Tour.