Trapped For Days, Years, Centuries Maybe. Dead,

That Should Have Been My Strategy! By The Time I’ve Worked Through The Emotions Of Surprise, Admiration, Anger, Jealousy, And Frustration, I’m Watching That Reddish Mane Of Hair Disappear Into The Trees Well Out Of Shooting Range.

He Puts The Chain With The Locket Around My Neck, Then Rests His Hand Over The Spot Where Our Baby Would Be. “you’re Going To Make A Great Mother, You Know,” He Says. He Kisses Me One Last Time And Goes Back To Finnick.

I'm Relieved Peeta's Alive. I Tell Myself Again That If I Get Killed, His Winnings Will Benefit My Mother And Prim The Most. This Is What I Tell Myself To Explain The Conflicting Emotions That Arise When I Think Of Peeta. The Gratitude That He Game An Edge By Professing His Love For Me In The Interview. The Anger At His Superiority On The Roof. The Dread That We May Come Face-to-face At Any Moment In This Arena.

I Wonder If Effie Will Still Be Wearing That Silly Pink Wig, Or Is She'll Be Sporting Some Other Unnatural Color Especially For The Victor Tour.

Hope, It Is The Only Thing Stronger Than Fear. A Little Hope Is Effective, A Lot Of Hope Is Dangerous.