I Had To Do That. At Least

We're Supposed To Be Making Up This Stuff, Playing At Being In Love, Not Actually Being In Love.

I Look Coolly In To The Blue Eyes Of The Person Who Is Now My Greatest Opponent, The Person Who Would Keep Me Alive At His Own Expense. And I Promise Myself I Will Defeat His Plan.

My Lips Are Just Forming His Name When His Fingers Lock Around My Throat.

They Play In The Meadow. The Dancing Girl With The Dark Hair And Blue Eyes. The Boy With Blond Curls And Gray Eyes, Struggling To Keep Up With Her On His Chubby Toddler Legs. It Took Five, Ten, Fifteen Years For Me To Agree. But Peeta Wanted Them So Badly. When I First Felt Her Stirring Inside Of Me, I Was Consumed With A Terror That Felt As Old As Life Itself. Only The Joy Of Holding Her In My Arms Could Tame It.

Let Them Go, I Tell Myself. Say Good-bye And Forget Them. I Do My Best, Thinking Of Them One By One, Releasing Them Like Birds From The Protective Cages Inside Me, Locking The Doors Against Their Return.