I Think....you Still Have No Idea. The

My Name Is Katniss Everdeen. My Home Is District Twelve. Peeta Was Taken Prisoner. He Is Thought To Be Dead. Most Likely Is Dead. It Would Probably Be Best If He Were Dead... - Katniss Everdeens

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.

Never Underestimate The Power Of A Brillian Stylist.

The Bird, The Pin, The Song, The Berries, The Watch, The Cracker, The Dress That Burst Into Flames. I Am The Mockingjay. The One That Survived Despite The Capitol's Plans. The Symbol Of The Rebellion.

The Damage, The Fatigue, The Imperfections. That's How They Recognize Me; Why I Belong To Them.