Her Name's Prim. She's Just Twelve. And

Gale Is Mine. I Am His. Anything Else Is Unthinkable.

They'll Be Granted Immunity!" I Feel Myself Rising From My Chair, My Voice Full Of Resonant. "you Will Personally Pledge This In Front Of The Entire Population Of District Thirteen And The Remainder Of Twelve. Soon. Today. It Will Be Recorded For Future Generations. You Will Hold Yourself And Your Government Responsible For Their Safety, Or You'll Find Yourself Another Mockingjay!

Tomorrow's A Hunting Day," I Say. "i Won't Be Much Of A Help With That," Peeta Says. "i've Never Hunted Before." "i'll Kill And You Cook," I Say. "and You Can Always Gather." "i Wish There Was Some Sort Of Bread Bush Out There," Says Peeta.

I Wish They Were All Dead And We Were, Too. It Would Be Best." Well, There's No Good Response To That. I Can Hardly Dispute It Since I Was Walking Around With A Syringe To Kill Peeta When I Found Them. Do I Really Want Him Dead? What I Want...what I Want Is To Have Him Back.

One More Time? For The Audience?" He Says. His Voice Isn't Angry. It's Hollow, Which Is Worse. Already The Boy With The Bread Is Slipping Away From Me. I Take His Hand, Holding On Tightly, Preparing For The Cameras, And Dreading The Moment When I Will Finally Have To Let Go.