Isn't It Strange That I

I Squeeze My Eyes Shut And Try To Reach For Him Across The Hundreds And Hundreds Of Miles, To Send My Thoughts Into His Mind, To Let Him Know He Is Not Alone. But He Is. And I Can't Help Him.

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.

Katniss Everdeen, The Girl Who Was On Fire, You Have Provided A Spark That, Left Unattended, May Grow To An Inferno That Destroys Panem," He Says.

Peeta Looks Me Right In The Eye And Gives My Hand What I Think Is Meant To Be A Reassuring Squeeze. Maybe It's Just A Nervous Spasm.

And While I Was Talking, The Idea Of Actually Losing Peeta Hit Me Again And I Realized How Much I Don't Want Him To Die. And It's Not About The Sponsors. And It's Not About What Will Happen When We Get Home. And It's Not Just That I Don't Want To Be Alone. It's Him. I Do Not Want To Lose The Boy With The Bread.