Only I Keep Wishing I Could Think

I Take A Few Breaths To Calm Myself, Step Back, And Lift Buttercup By The Scruff Of The Neck. "i Should've Drowned You When I Had The Chance." His Ears Flatten And He Raises A Paw. I Hiss Before He Gets A Chance, Which Seems To Annoy Him A Little, Since He Considers Hissing His Own Personal Sound Of Contempt.

Gale And I Were Thrown Together By A Mutual Need To Survive. Peeta And I Know The Other's Survival Means Our Own Death. How Do You Side Step That?

Something Inside Me Shuts Down And I'm Too Numb To Feel Anything. It's Like Watching Complete Strangers In Another Hunger Games. But I Do Notice They Omit The Part Where I Covered Her In Flowers. Right. Because Even That Smacks Of Rebellion.

The Bird, The Pin, The Song, The Berries, The Watch, The Cracker, The Dress That Burst Into Flames. I Am The Mockingjay. The One That Survived Despite The Capitol's Plans. The Symbol Of The Rebellion.

Then Something Unexpected Happens. At Least, I Don't Expect It Because I Don't Think Of District 12 As A Place That Cares About Me. But A Shift Has Occurred Since I Stepped Up To Take Prim's Place, And Now It Seems I Have Become Someone Precious. At First One, Then Another, Then Almost Every Member Of The Crowd Touches The Three Middle Fingers Of Their Left Hand To Their Lips And Holds It Out To Me. It Is An Old And Rarely Used Gesture Of Our District, Occasionally Seen At Funerals. It Means Thanks, It Means Admiration, It Means Good-bye To Someone You Love.