No Matter What I Do, I'm Hurting

My Name Is Katniss Everdeen. My Home Is District Twelve. Peeta Was Taken Prisoner. He Is Thought To Be Dead. Most Likely Is Dead. It Would Probably Be Best If He Were Dead... - Katniss Everdeens

I Don't Have A Talent, Unless You Count Hunting Illegally, Which They Don't. Or Maybe Singing, Which I Wouldn't Do For The Capitol In A Million Years. My Mother Tried To Interest Me In A Variety Of Suitable Alternatives From A List Effie Trinket Sent Her. Cooking, Flower Arranging, Playing The Flute. None Of Them Took, Although Prim Had A Knack For All Three. Finally Cinna Stepped In And Offered To Help Me Develop My Passion For Designing Clothes, Which Really Required Development Since It Was Non-existent.

No Wonder I Won The Games. No Decent Person Ever Does.

Peeta: You Be Nice To Her, Finnick. Or I Might Try And Take Her Away From You. Finnick: Oh, Peeta. Don't Make Me Sorry I Restarted Your Heart.

Time And Tragedy Have Forced Her To Grow Too Quickly, At Least For My Taste, Into A Young Woman Who Stitches Bleeding Wounds And Knows Our Mother Can Hear Only So Much.