I'm So Tired, Katniss.

She Reaches In, Digs Her Hand Deep Into The Ball, And Pulls Out A Slip Of Paper. The Crowd Draws In A Collective Breath, And Then You Can Hear A Pin Drop, And I'm Feeling Nauseous And So Desperately Hoping That It's Not Me, That It's Not Me, That It's Not Me. Effie Trinket Crosses Back To The Podium, Smoothes The Slip Of Paper, And Reads Out The Name In A Clear Voice. And It's Not Me. It's Primrose Everdeen.

Then I Dive Into My Tent Before I Do Something Stupid Like Cry.

The Berries. I Realize The Answer To Who I Am Lies In That Handful Of Poisonous Fruit. If I Held Them Out To Save Peeta Because I Knew I Would Be Shunned If I Came Back Without Him, Then I Am Despicable. If I Held Them Out Because I Loved Him, I Am Still Self-centered, Although Forgivable. But If I Held Them Out To Defy The Capitol, I Am Someone Of Worth. The Trouble Is, I Don't Know Exactly What Was Going On Inside Me At That Moment.

I Can Win But You Cant Lose, This Makes Us All Even In Our Ways.

I Had To Do That. At Least Once.