The Anguish I Always Feel

The Realization That I’d Have Nothing To Take Home Had Finally Sunk In. My Knees Buckled And I Slid Down The Tree Trunk To Its Roots. It Was Too Much. I Was Too Sick And Weak And Tired, Oh, So Tired. Let Them Call The Peacekeepers And Take Us To The Community Home, I Thought. Or Better Yet, Let Me Die Right Here In The Rain.

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.

In My Mind, President Snow Should Be Viewed In Front Of Marble Pillars Hung With Oversized Flags. It's Jarring To See Him Surrounded By The Ordinary Objects In The Room. Like Taking The Lid Off A Pot And Finding A Fanged Viper Instead Of Stew.

You Know, I Think This Is The First Time We've Ever Done Anything Normal Together.

And Then It Happens. Up And Down The Row, The Victors Begin To Join Hands. Some Right Away, Like The Morphlings, Or Wiress And Beetee. Others Unsure But Caught Up In The Demands Of Those Around Them, Like Brutus And Enobaria. By The Time The Anthem Plays Its Final Strains, All Twenty-four Of Us Stand In One Unbroken Line In What Must Be The First Public Show Of Unity Among The Districts Since The Dark Days. You Can See The Realization Of This As The Screens Begin To Pop Into Blackness. It's Too Late, Though. In The Confusion They Didn't Cut Us Off In Time. Everyone Has Seen.