No One Knows What To Do With

The Bird, The Pin, The Song, The Berries, The Watch, The Cracker, The Dress That Burst Into Flames. I Am The Mockingjay. The One That Survived Despite The Capitol's Plans. The Symbol Of The Rebellion.

Sometimes When I'm Alone, I Take The Pearl From Where It Lives In My Pocket And Try To Remember The Boy With The Bread, The Strong Arms That Warded Off Nightmares On The Train, The Kisses In The Arena.

Sometimes Things Happen To People And They're Not Equipped To Deal With Them.

Beetee Is Still Messing Round The Tree, Doing I Don't Know What. At One Point He Snaps Off A Sliver Of Bark, Joins Us, And Throws It Against The Force Field. It Bounces Back And Lands On The Ground, Glowing. In A Few Moments It Returns To Its Original Color. "well, That Explains A Lot," Says Beetee. I Look At Peeta And Can't Help Biting My Lip To Keep From Laughing Since It Explains Absolutely Nothing To Anyone But Beetee.

"katniss?" He Drops My Hand And I Take A Step, As If To Catch My Balance. "it Was All For The Games," Peeta Says. "how You Acted." "not All Of It," I Say, Tightly Holding Onto My Flowers. "then How Much? No, Forget That. I Guess The Real Question Is What's Going To Be Left When We Get Home?" He Says. "i Don't Know. The Closer We Get To District Twelve, The More Confused I Get," I Say. He Waits, For Further Explanation, But None's Forthcoming. "well, Let Me Know When You Work It Out," He Says, And The Pain In His Voice Is Palpable.