Oh, Well. At Least My Blood Is

One Time, My Mother Told Me That I Always Eat Like I'll Never See Food Again. And I Said, "i Won't Unless I Bring It Home." That Shut Her Up.

At Once, It’s Clear I Cannot Gush. We Try Me Playing Cocky, But I Just Don’t Have The Arrogance. Apparently, I’m Too “vulnerable” For Ferocity. I’m Not Witty. Funny. Sexy. Or Mysterious By The End Of The Session, I Am No One At All.

The Woods Always Look Different At Night...as If The Daytime Trees And Flowers And Stones Had Gone To Bed And Sent Slightly More Ominous Versions Of Themselves To Take Their Places.

I Can Hear President Snow's Voice In My Head. 'on The Seventy-fifth Anniversary, As A Reminder To The Rebels That Even The Strongest Among Them Cannot Overcome The Power Of The Capital, The Male And Female Tributes Will Be Reaped From Their Existing Pool Of Victors.

Aren't They The Very Reason I Have To Try To Fight? Because What Has Been Done To Them Is So Wrong, So Beyond Justification, So Evil That There Is No Choice? Because No One Has The Right To Treat Them As They Have Been Treated?