I Trusted Him. I Put What Was

Still, I Hate Them. But, Of Course, I Hate Almost Everybody Now. Myself More Than Anyone.

She’s Really Gone, Then. The Little Girl With The Back Of Her Shirt Sticking Out Like A Duck Tail, The One Who Needed Help Reaching The Dishes, And Who Begged To See The Frosted Cakes In The Bakery Window. Time And Tragedy Have Forced Her To Grow Too Quickly, At Least For My Taste, Into A Young Woman Who Stitches Bleeding Wounds And Knows Our Mother Can Hear Only So Much.

That Was The One Thing I Had Going For Me. Taking Care Of Your Family.

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.

Well, I Knew That Goat Would Be A Little Gold Mine," I Say. Yes, Of Course I Was Referring To That, Not The Lasting Joy You Gave Your Sister You Love So Much You Took Her Place In The Reaping," Says Peeta Drily.