Oh, Peeta, Don't Make Me Sorry I

The Ones I Loved Fly As Birds In The Open Sky Above Me. Soaring, Weaving, Calling To Me To Join Them. I Want So Badly To Follow Them, But The Seawater Saturates My Wings, Making It Impossible To Lift Them. The Ones I Hated Have Taken To The Water, Horrible Scaled Things That Tear My Salty Flesh With Needle Teeth. Biting Again And Again. Dragging Me Beneath The Surface.

A Light Was On In The Kitchen. His Mother Sat At The Kitchen Table, As Still As A Statue. Her Hands Were Clasped Together, And She Stared Fixatedly At A Small Stain On The Tablecloth. Gregor Remembered Seeing Her That Way So Many Nights After His Dad Had Disappeared. He Didn't Know What To Say. He Didn't Want To Scare Her Or Shock Her Or Ever Give Her Any More Pain. So, He Stepped Into The Light Of The Kitchen And Said The One Thing He Knew She Wanted To Hear Most In The World. "hey, Mom. We're Home.

I Thought He Wanted It, Anyway," I Say. "not Like This," Haymitch Says. "he Wanted It To Be Real.

But I Feel As If I Did Know Rue, And She'll Always Be With Me. Everything Beautiful Brings Her To Mind. I See Her In The Yellow Flowers That Grow In The Meadow By My House. I See Her In The Mockingjays That Sing In The Trees. But Most Of All, I See Her In My Sister, Prim.

Something Flickers Across His Bloodshot Eyes. Pain.