Because I Can't Handle The Nightmares. Not

The Heat Of The Bread Burned Into My Skin, But I Clutched It Tighter, Clinging To Life.

The Anguish I Always Feel When She's In Pain Wells Up In My Chest And Threatens To Register On My Face.

Stupid People Are Dangerous.

In Really Bad Times, The Hungriest Would Gather At His Door At Nightfall, Vying For The Chance To Earn A Few Coins To Feed Their Families By Selling Their Bodies. Had I Been Older When My Father Died, I Might Have Been Among Them. Instead I Learned To Hunt.

Whose Is It, Do You Think?" I Say Finally. "no Telling," Says Finnick. "why Don't We Let Peeta Claim It, Since He Died Today?