District 12: Where You Can Starve To

I Reach For Prim In The Twilight, Clamp My Hand On Her Leg And Pull Myself Over To Her. Her Voice Remains Steady As She Croons To Buttercup. "it's All Right, Baby, It's All Right. We'll Be Ok Down There." My Mother Wraps Her Arms Around Us. I Allow Myself To Feel Young For A Moment And Rest My Head On Her Shoulder.

But It's Posy, Gale's Five-year-old Sister, Who Helps The Most. She Scoots Along The Bench To Octavia And Touches Her Skin With A Tentative Finger. “you're Green. Are You Sick?” “it's A Fashion Thing, Posy. Like Wearing Lipstick,” I Say. “it's Meant To Be Pretty,” Whispers Octavia, And I Can See The Tears Threatening To Spill Over Her Lashes. Posy Considers This And Says Matter-of-factly, “i Think You'd Be Pretty In Any Color.

Sometimes, When I Clean A Kill, I Feed Buttercup The Entrails. He Has Stopped Hissing At Me. Entrails. No Hissing. This Is The Closest We Will Ever Come To Love.

I Stand There, Feeling Broken And Small, Thousands Of Eyes Trained On Me.

I Don’t Want Anyone With Me Today. Not Even Him. Some Walks You Have To Take Alone.