Yes. I Killed Him. And

For The Last Year His Grandma Had Been Slipping In And Out Of Reality. One Minute She Was As Clear As A Bell And The Next She Was Calling Him Simon. Who Was Simon? He Had No Idea.

It Must Be Very Fragile, If A Handful Of Berries Can Bring It Down.

As Coal Pressured Into Pearls By Our Weighty Existence. Beauty That Arose Out Of Pain.

We Hand The Meat Over To Greasy Sae In The Kitchen. She Likes District 13 Well Enough, Even Though She Thinks The Cooks Are Somewhat Lacking In Imagination. But A Woman Who Came Up With A Palatable Wild Dog And Rhubarb Stew Is Bound To Feel As If Her Hands Are Tied Here.

I Clench His Hands To The Point Of Pain. "stay With Me." His Pupils Contract To Pinpoints, Dialate Again Rapidly, And Then Return To Something Resembling Normalcy. "always," He Murmurs.