Not Like This. He Wanted It To

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.

I Keep Hoping That As Time Passes By, We’ll Regain The Ease Between Us, But Part Of Me Knows It’s Futile. There’s No Going Back.

Only.. I Want To Do Die As Myself

And Random Bits Of Happiness, Like Finnick And Annie's Newborn Boy.

The Pain Over My Heart Returns, And From It I Imagine Tiny Fissures Spreading Out Into My Body. Through My Torso, Down My Arms And Legs, Over My Face, Leaving It Crisscrossed With Cracks. One Good Jolt...and I Could Shatter Into Strange Razor-sharp Shards.