We Could Do It, You Know.

The Awful Thing Is That If I Can Forget They're People, It Will Be No Different At All

The Heat Of The Bread Burned Into My Skin, But I Clutched It Tighter, Clinging To Life.

Then, In My Most Careful Handwriting, Come All The Details It Would Be A Crime To Forget. Lady Licking Prim's Cheek. My Father's Laugh. Peeta's Father With The Cookies. The Colour Of Finnick's Eyes. What Cinna Could Do With A Length Of Silk. Boggs Reprogramming The Holo. Rue Poised On Her Toes, Arms Slightly Extended, Like A Bird About To Take Flight. On And On. We Seal The Pages With Salt Water And Promises To Live Well To Make Their Death Count.

Then He Smiles As If He'd Be Happy To Lie There And Gaze At Me Forever.

Underground. Which I Hate. Like Mines And Tunnels And 13. Underground, Where I Dread Dying, Which Is Stupid Because Even If I Die Aboveground, The Next Thing They'll Do Is Bury Me Underground Anyway.