Beauty That Arose Out Of Pain.

By The End Of The Session, I Am No One At All. Haymitch Started Drinking Somewhere Around Witty, And A Nasty Edge Has Crept Into His Voice. "i Give Up, Sweetheart. Just Answer The Questions And Try Not To Let The Audience See How Openly You Despise Them.

No. Now, Shut Up And Eat Your Pears.

While I Was Waiting...i Ate Your Lunch.

When I Wake, I Have A Brief, Delicious Feeling Of Happiness That Is Somehow Connected With Peeta. Happiness, Of Course, Is A Complete Absurdity At This Point, Since At The Rate Things Are Going, I'll Be Dead In A Day. And That's The Best-case Scenario, If I'm Able To Eliminate The Rest Of The Field, Including Myself, And Get Peeta Crowned As The Winner Of The Quarter Quell. Still, The Sensation's So Unexpected And Sweet I Cling To It, If Only For A Few Moments. Before The Gritty Sand, The Hot Sun, And My Itching Skin Demand A Return To Reality.

I Walk Around The Room Eating Goose Liver And Puffy Bread Until There's A Knock On The Door. Effie's Calling Me To Dinner. Good. I'm Starving.