I'll Tell Them That On Bad Mornings,

No Wonder I Won The Games. No Decent Person Ever Does.

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.

There's Always Hand-to-hand Combat. All You Need Is To Come Up With A Knife, And You'll At Least Stand A Chance. If I Get Jumped, I'm Dead!" I Can Hear My Voice Rising In Anger. "but You Won't! You'll Be Living Up In Some Tree Eating Raw Squirrels And Picking Off People With Arrows.

At Once, It’s Clear I Cannot Gush. We Try Me Playing Cocky, But I Just Don’t Have The Arrogance. Apparently, I’m Too “vulnerable” For Ferocity. I’m Not Witty. Funny. Sexy. Or Mysterious By The End Of The Session, I Am No One At All.

The Only Indication Of The Passage Of Time Lies In The Heavens, The Subtle Shift Of The Moon. So Peeta Begins Pointing It Out To Me, Insisting I Acknowledge Its Progress And Sometimes, For Just A Moment I Feel A Flicker Of Hope Before The Agony Of The Night Engulfs Me Again.