No One Knows What To Do With

I'll Tell Them How I Survive It. I'll Tell Them That On Bad Mornings, It Feels Impossible To Take Pleasure In Anything Because I'm Afraid It Could Be Taken Away. That's When I Make A List In My Head Of Every Act Of Goodness I've Seen Someone Do. It's Like A Game. Repetitive. Even A Little Tedious After More Than Twenty Years. But There Are Much Worse Games To Play.

Yes. I Killed Him. And Buried Her In Flowers," I Say. "and I Sang Her To Sleep.

They Hadn’t Counted On The Highly Controlled Jabberjay Having The Brains To Adapt To The Wild, To Pass On Its Genetic Code, To Thrive In A New Form. They Hadn’t Anticipated Its Will To Live.

No One Really Needs Me," He Says, And There Is No Self-pity In His Voice. It's True His Family Doesn't Need Him. They Will Mourn Him, As Will A Handful Of Friends. But They Will Get On. Even Haymitch, With The Help Of A Lot Of White Liquor, Will Get On. I Realize Only One Person Will Be Damaged Beyond Repair If Peeta Dies. Me. "i Do," I Say. "i Need You.

Remember, Heads High. Smiles. They're Going To Love You!