I'm So Tired, Katniss.

I'm Not Flailing Now, As My Muscles Are Rigid With The Tension Of Holding Myself Together.

No One Really Needs Me,” He Says, And There's No Self-pity In His Voice...“i Do,” I Say. “i Need You.” He Looks Upset, Takes A Deep Breath As If To Begin A Long Argument, And That's No Good, No Good At All, Because He'll Start Going On About Prim And My Mother And Everything And I'll Just Get Confused. So Before He Can Talk, I Stop His Lips With A Kiss.

For The Last Year His Grandma Had Been Slipping In And Out Of Reality. One Minute She Was As Clear As A Bell And The Next She Was Calling Him Simon. Who Was Simon? He Had No Idea.

Something Keeps Me Moving Forward, Though. A Lifetime Of Watching The Hunger Games Lets Me Know That Certain Areas Of The Arena Are Rigged For Certain Attacks. And That If I Can Just Get Away From This Section, I Might Be Able To Move Out Of Reach Of The Launchers. I Might Also Then Fall Straight Into A Pit Of Vipers, But I Can't Worry About That Now.

There's No District 12 To Escape From Now, No Peacekeepers To Trick, No Hungry Mouths To Feed. The Capitol Took Away All Of That, And I'm On The Verge Of Losing Gale As Well. The Glue Of Mutual Needs That Bonded Us So Tightly Together For All Those Years Is Melting Away.