Fire Is Catching! And If We Burn,

And Then There Was Tick. Brave Little Tick, Who Had Flown Into The Faces Of An Army Of Rats To Save His Baby Sister. Tick - Who Never Spoke Much. Tick - Who Shared Her Food. Tick - Who Was After All Just A Roach. Just A Roach Who Had Given All The Time She Had Left So That Boots Could Have More. Gregor Pressed Boots's Fingers Against His Lips And Felt Scalding Tears Begin To Slide Down His Cheeks. He Hadn't Cried, Not The Whole Time He'd Been Down Here, And There Had Been Plenty Of Bad Stuff. But Somehow Tick's Sacrifice Had Crushed Whatever Thin Shell Remained Between Him And Sorrow.

But In School I Remember Hearing That For The Second Quarter Quell, The Capitol Demanded That Twice The Number Of Tributes Be Provided For The Arena. The Teachers Didn't Go Into Much More Detail, Which Is Surprising, Because That Was The Year District 12's Very Own Haymitch Abernathy Won The Crown.

My Mockingjay Pin Now Lives With Cinna's Outfit, But There's The Gold Locket And The Silver Parachute With The Spile And Peeta's Pearl. I Knot The Pearl Into The Corner Of The Parachute, Bury It Deep In The Recesses Of The Bag, As If It's Peeta's Life And No One Can Take It Away As Long As I Guard It.

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?

It's There. The White Rose Among The Dried Flowers In The Vase. Shriveled And Fragile, But Holding On To That Unnatural Perfection Cultivated In Snows Greenhouse. I Grab The Vase, Stumble Down To The Kitchen, And Throw Its Contents Into The Embers. As The Flowers Flare Up, A Burst Of Blue Flame Envelops The Rose And Devours It. Fire Beats Roses Again.