Do you really know what's going on And if you don't... find out
A hysterical young woman with flowing brown hair is also called from 4, but she's quickly replaced by a volunteer, an eighty-year-old woman who needs a cane to walk to the stage.
There's always hand-to-hand combat. All you need is to come up with a knife, and you'll at least stand a chance. If I get jumped, I'm dead!" I can hear my voice rising in anger. "But you won't! You'll be living up in some tree eating raw squirrels and picking off people with arrows.
I volunteer!" I gasp. "I volunteer as tribute!
I merely feel emptyness. A hollow of dead brush where flowers use to bloom.
I’m in pain. That’s the only way I get your attention
Making knots. Making knots. No word. Making knots. Tick-tock. This is a clock. Do not think of Gale. Do not think of Peeta. Making knots.
I know we promised Haymitch, we'd do exactly what they said, but I don't think he considered this angle.' 'Where is Haymitch, anyway? Isn't he supposed to protect us from this sort of thing?' says Peeta. 'With all that alcohol in him, it's probably not advisable to have him around an open flame,' I say.
No one will forget me. Not my look, not my name. Katniss. The girl who was on fire.
I'm running on hate. When the energy from that ebbs I'll be worthless.
Maybe everyone is just trying to protect me by lying to me. I don't care. I'm sick of people lying to me for my own good.
I know he was desperate. That makes people do all kinds of crazy things.
Orange? Like Effie's hair?" I say. "A bit more muted," he says. "More like sunset.
We follow instructions to my destination, a chamber for my preparation.
Knowing it and seeing it are two different things.
I don't know what it is with Finnick and bread, but he seems obsessed with handling it.
but it's not safe and I can feel him slipping away, so I just get out one more sentence. "Stay with me." As the tendrils of sleep syrup pull me down, I hear him whisper a word back but I don't catch it.
I look down at our linked fingers as I loosen my grasp, but he regains his grip on me. “No, don’t let go of me,” he says.
They can fatten me up. They can give me a full body polish, dress me up, and make me beautiful again. They can design dream weapons that come to life in my hands, but they will never again brainwash me into the necessity of using them. I no longer feel allegiance to these monsters called human beings, despite being one myself.
What do I mean when I say I love Gale? I don't know. I did kiss him last night, in a moment when my emotions were running so high. But I'm sure he doesn't remember it. Does he? I hope not. If he does, everything will just get more complicated and I really can't think about kissing when I've got a rebellion to incite.
Since Mags seems to have no ill effects from the nuts, Peeta collects bunches of them and fries them by bouncing them off the force field.
It'd be better if he were easier to hate.
Then I get it, what it means. At least, for me. District 12 only has three existing victors to choose from. Two male. One female... I am going back into the arena.
Im still betting on you. - Cinna.
Anyway, even if she's sugarcoating my good points, I appreciate it. Frankly, I could use a little sugarcoating.
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