District 12: Where You Can Starve To

My Little Sister, Prim, Curled Up On Her Side, Cocooned In My Mother’s Body, Their Cheeks Pressed Together. In Sleep, My Mother Looks Younger, Still Worn But Not So Beaten-down. Prim’s Face Is As Fresh As A Raindrop, As Lovely As The Primrose For Which She Was Named. My Mother Was Very Beautiful Once, Too. Or So They Tell Me.

As We Curve Around Into The Loop Of The City Circle, I Can See That A Couple Of Other Stylists Have Tried To Steal Cinna And Portia's Idea Of Illuminating Their Tributes. The Electric-light-studded Outfits From District 3, Where They Make Electronics, At Least Make Sense. But What Are The Livestock Keepers From Distric 10, Who Are Dressed As Cows, Doing With Flaming Belts? Broiling Themselves? Pathetic.

Despite What I Feel For Peeta, This Is When I Accept Deep Down That He'll Never Come Back To Me. Or I'll Never Go Back To Him. I'll Die For My Trouble. And He'll Die Insane And Hating Me.

Since Mags Seems To Have No Ill Effects From The Nuts, Peeta Collects Bunches Of Them And Fries Them By Bouncing Them Off The Force Field.

I Think About Going To The Lake, But I'm So Weak That I Barely Make It To My Meeting Place With Gale. I Sit On The Rock Where Cressida Filmed Us, But It's Too Wide Without His Body Beside Me. Several Times I Close My Eyes And Count To Ten, Thinking That When I Open Them, He Will Have Materialized Without A Sound As He So Often Did. I Have To Remind Myself That Gale's In 2 With A Fancy Job, Probably Kissing Another Pair Of Lips.