Not Like This. He Wanted It To

My Name Is Katniss Everdeen. I Am Seventeen Years Old. My Home Is District 12. I Was In The Hunger Games. I Escaped. The Capitol Hates Me.

Roses. Wolf Mutts. Tributes. Frosted Dolphins. Friends. Mockingjays. Stylists. Me. Everything Screams In My Dreams Tonight.

Then I Know Prim Is Right, That Snow Cannot Afford To Waste Peeta's Life, Especially Now, While The Mockingjay Causes So Much Havoc. He's Killed Cinna Already. Destroyed My Home. My Family, Gale, And Even Haymitch Are Out Of His Reach. Peeta's All He Has Left. "so, What Do You Think They'll Do To Him?" I Ask. Prim Sound About A Thousand Years Old When She Speaks."whatever It Takes To Break You.

One More Time? For The Audience?" He Says. His Voice Isn't Angry. It's Hollow, Which Is Worse. Already The Boy With The Bread Is Slipping Away From Me. I Take His Hand, Holding On Tightly, Preparing For The Cameras, And Dreading The Moment When I Will Finally Have To Let Go.

And Suddenly, It's As If There's No One In The World But These Two, Crashing Through Space To Reach Each Other. They Collide, Enfold, Lose Their Balance, And Slam Against A Wall, Where They Stay. Clinging Into One Being. Indivisible.