And Random Bits Of Happiness, Like Finnick

Remember, Girl On Fire,” He Says, “i'm Still Betting On You.

I Search His Eyes For The Slightest Sign Of Anything, Fear, Remorse, Anger. But There's Only The Same Look Of Amusement That Ended Our Last Conversation. It's As If He's Speaking The Words Again. "oh, My Dear Miss Everdeen. I Thought We Had Agreed Not To Lie To Each Other." He's Right. We Did. The Point Of My Arrow Shifts Upward. I Release The String. And President Coin Collapses Over The Side Of The Balcony And Plunges To The Ground. Dead.

I'm Not Flailing Now, As My Muscles Are Rigid With The Tension Of Holding Myself Together.

And Some Small Gnarled Place Inside Me Hated Her For Her Weakness, For Her Neglect, For The Months She Had Put Us Through. I Had Taken A Step Back From My Mother, Put Up A Wall To Protect Myself From Needing Her, And Nothing Was Ever The Same Between Us Again.

Here Began Countless Days Of Hunting And Snaring, Fishing And Gathering, Roaming Together Through The Woods, Unloading Our Thoughts While We Filled Our Game Bags. This Was The Doorway To Both Sustenance And Sanity. And We Were Each Other's Key.