Katniss, The Girl Who Was On Fire!

It's Weird, How Much He's Noticed Me... And Apparently, I Have Not Been As Oblivious To Him As I Imagined, Either.

I Cover My Face With My Arms Because This Isn't Happening. It Isn't Possible. For Someone To Make Peeta Forget He Loves Me . . . No One Can Do That.

My Little Sister, Prim, Curled Up On Her Side, Cocooned In My Mother’s Body, Their Cheeks Pressed Together. In Sleep, My Mother Looks Younger, Still Worn But Not So Beaten-down. Prim’s Face Is As Fresh As A Raindrop, As Lovely As The Primrose For Which She Was Named. My Mother Was Very Beautiful Once, Too. Or So They Tell Me.

I'm Going To Be The Mockingjay.

You're Punishing Him Over And Over For Things That Are Out Of His Control. Now, I'm Not Saying You Shouldn't Have A Fully Loaded Weapon Next To You Round The Clock. But I Think It's Time You Flipped This Little Scenario In Your Head. If You'd Been Taken By The Capitol, And Hijacked, And Then Tried To Kill Peeta, Is This The Way He Would Be Treating You?" Demands Haymitch. I Fall Silent. It Isn't. It Isn't How He Would Be Treating Me At All. He Would Be Trying To Get Me Back At Any Cost. Not Shutting Me Out, Abandoning Me, Greeting Me With Hostility At Every Turn.