Maybe I'd Think That, Too,

It's Ideal Really. They Will Come Up With A Plan. No One Will Like It. Everyone Will Feel They Have Been Treated Unfairly, But Will Be Happy That Their Neighbors Feel The Same. And That Is The Nature Of Compromise. Now Let's Go Eat An Awful Lot.

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.

No One Will Forget Me. Not My Look, Not My Name. Katniss. The Girl Who Was On Fire.

Because Something Is Significantly Wrong With A Creature That Sacrifices Its Children’s Lives To Settle Its Differences.

She Reaches In, Digs Her Hand Deep Into The Ball, And Pulls Out A Slip Of Paper. The Crowd Draws In A Collective Breath, And Then You Can Hear A Pin Drop, And I'm Feeling Nauseous And So Desperately Hoping That It's Not Me, That It's Not Me, That It's Not Me. Effie Trinket Crosses Back To The Podium, Smoothes The Slip Of Paper, And Reads Out The Name In A Clear Voice. And It's Not Me. It's Primrose Everdeen.