If You Hit Bottom, There's A Whole

When I Break Into The Clearing, She's On The Ground, Hopelessly Entangled In A Net. She Just Has The Time To Reach Her Hand Through The Mesh And Say My Name Before The Spear Enters Her Body.

And Then It Happens. Up And Down The Row, The Victors Begin To Join Hands. Some Right Away, Like The Morphlings, Or Wiress And Beetee. Others Unsure But Caught Up In The Demands Of Those Around Them, Like Brutus And Enobaria. By The Time The Anthem Plays Its Final Strains, All Twenty-four Of Us Stand In One Unbroken Line In What Must Be The First Public Show Of Unity Among The Districts Since The Dark Days. You Can See The Realization Of This As The Screens Begin To Pop Into Blackness. It's Too Late, Though. In The Confusion They Didn't Cut Us Off In Time. Everyone Has Seen.

You're Alive," I Whisper, Pressing My Palms Against My Cheeks, Feeling The Smile That's So Wide It Must Look Like A Grimace. Peeta's Alive.

Here Began Countless Days Of Hunting And Snaring, Fishing And Gathering, Roaming Together Through The Woods, Unloading Our Thoughts While We Filled Our Game Bags. This Was The Doorway To Both Sustenance And Sanity. And We Were Each Other's Key.

So We Both Strip Off Our Boots And Socks And, While There’s Some Improvement, I Could Swear He’s Making An Effort To Snap Every Branch We Encounter