Whatever It Takes To Break

All I Can Think Of Is The Emaciated Bodies Of Children On Our Kitchen Table As My Mother Prescribes What The Parent's Can't Give. More Food.

The Berries. I Realize The Answer To Who I Am Lies In That Handful Of Poisonous Fruit. If I Held Them Out To Save Peeta Because I Knew I Would Be Shunned If I Came Back Without Him, Then I Am Despicable. If I Held Them Out Because I Loved Him, I Am Still Self-centered, Although Forgivable. But If I Held Them Out To Defy The Capitol, I Am Someone Of Worth. The Trouble Is, I Don't Know Exactly What Was Going On Inside Me At That Moment.

I'm Sure They Didn't Notice Anything But You. You Should Wear Flames More Often," He Says. "they Suit You.

But Between The Images, We Are Privy To The Real-life Action Being Played Out On The Set. Peeta's Attempt To Continue Speaking. The Camera Knocked Down To Record The White Tiled Floor. The Scuffle Of Boots. The Impact Of The Blow That's Inseparable From Peeta's Cry Of Pain. And His Blood As It Splatters The Tiles.

Okay, Listen To Me, You're Stronger Than They Are. You Are. They Just Want A Good Show, That's All They Want. You Know How To Hunt. Show Them How Good You Are.