It Is A Perfect Weapon

I Pound On The Glass, Screaming My Head Off. Everyone Ignores Me Except For Some Capitol Attendant Who Appears Behind Me And Offers Me A Beverage.

You're A Painter. You're A Baker. You Like To Sleep With The Windows Open. You Never Take Sugar In Your Tea. And You Always Double-knot Your Shoelaces.

How Are You Managing? And Don't Say You're Fine." It's True. Whatever The Opposite Of Fine Is, That's What I Am.

And It’s All My Fault, Gale. Because Of What I Did In The Arena. If I Had Just Killed Myself With Those Berries, None Of This Would’ve Happened. Peeta Could Have Come Home And Lived, And Everyone Else Would Have Been Safe, Too.” “safe To Do What?” He Says In A Gentler Tone. “starve? Work Like Slaves? Send Their Kids To The Reaping? You Haven’t Hurt People – You’ve Given Them An Opportunity. They Just Have To Be Brave Enough To Take It.

Finnick?" I Say, "maybe Some Pants?" He Looks Down At His Legs As If Noticing His Outfit For The First Time. Then He Whips Off His Hospital Gown Leaving Him In Just His Underwear. "why? Do You Find This" -- He Strikes A Ridiculously Provocative Pose -- "distracting?" I Laugh. Boggs Looks Embarrassed And Finnick Looks More Like The Guy I Met At The Quarter Quell