You Know, You Could Live A Thousand

Peeta, How Come I Never Know When You're Having A Nightmare?” I Say. “i Don't Know. I Don't Think I Cry Out Or Thrash Around Or Anything. I Just Come To, Paralyzed With Terror,” He Says. “you Should Wake Me,” I Say, Thinking About How I Can Interrupt His Sleep Two Or Three Times On A Bad Night. About How Long It Can Take To Calm Me Down. “it's Not Necessary. My Nightmares Are Usually About Losing You,” He Says. “i'm Okay Once I Realize You're Here.

Right Before The Explosions Begin, I Find A Star.

Knowing It And Seeing It Are Two Different Things.

But In School I Remember Hearing That For The Second Quarter Quell, The Capitol Demanded That Twice The Number Of Tributes Be Provided For The Arena. The Teachers Didn't Go Into Much More Detail, Which Is Surprising, Because That Was The Year District 12's Very Own Haymitch Abernathy Won The Crown.

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