It's Strange To Be So Physically Close

And When Again It's Morning, They'll Wash Away. Here It's Safe, Here It's Warm Here The Daisies Guard You From Every Harm.

I Wonder If Effie Will Still Be Wearing That Silly Pink Wig, Or Is She'll Be Sporting Some Other Unnatural Color Especially For The Victor Tour.

District 12. Where You Can Starve To Death In Safety," I Mutter. Then I Glance Quickly Over My Shoulder. Even Here, In The Middle Of Nowhere, You Worry Someone Might Overhear You.

She's Not Here," I Tell Him. Buttercup Hisses Again. "she's Not Here. You Can Hiss All You Like. You Won't Find Prim." At Her Name, He Perks Up. Raises His Flattened Ears. Begins To Meow Hopefully. "get Out!" He Dodges The Pillow I Throw At Him. "go Away! There's Nothing Left For You Here!" I Start To Shake, Furious With Him. "she's Not Coming Back! She's Never Ever Coming Back Here Again!" I Grab Another Pillow And Get To My Feet To Improve My Aim. Out Of Nowhere, The Tears Begin To Pour Down My Cheeks. "she's Dead, You Stupid Cat. She's Dead.

To The Everlasting Credit Of The People Of District 12, Not One Person Claps. Not Even The Ones Holding Betting Slips, The Ones Who Are Usually Beyond Caring. Possibly Because They Know Me From The Hob, Or Knew My Father, Or Have Encountered Prim, Who No One Could Help Loving. So Instead Of Acknowledging Applause, I Stand There Unmoving While They Take Part In The Boldest Form Of Dissent They Can Manage. Silence. Which Says We Do Not Agree. We Do Not Condone. All Of This Is Wrong.