I Don't Have A Bullet In My

"but Please, When You See An Opportunity..." He Presses His Hand To My Cheek, Cold And Strong, And Tilts My Head Up So I Have To Look At Him. His Eyes Glint. They Almost Look Predatory. "ruin Them."

I Reach Out And Take His Hand. His Fingers Slide Between Mine. I Can't Breathe.

When I Look At Him, I Don't See The Cowardly Young Man Who Sold Me Out To Jeanine Matthews, And I Don't Hear The Excuses He Gave Afterward. When I Look At Him, I See The Boy Who Held My Hand In The Hospital When Our Mother Broke Her Wrist And Told Me It Would Be All Right. I See The Brother Who Told Me To Make My Own Choices, The Night Before The Choosing Ceremony. I Think Of All The Remarkable Things He Is--smart And Enthusiastic And Observant, Quiet And Earnest And Kind.

He Doesn’t Scowl, But His Mouth Is So Tense That I Know He’s Angry With Me. 'don’t Be An Idiot,' He Says. 'an Idiot?' Is He Talking About The Blanket? 'you Were Lying.

Creemos Enla Valentía. Creemos En Tomar Acciones. Creemos En La Liberarnos Del Miedo Y En La Adquisición De Habilidades Necesarias Para Obligar A Que Lo Malos Salga De Nuestro Mundo Para Que El Bien Pueda Prosperar Y Florecer