Smiling Is Mostly About Smiling More.

Because...because...she Came Here With Me.

I Feel Like I Owe Him Something, And I Hate Owing People. Maybe If I Had Thanked Him At Some Point, I'd Be Feeling Less Conflicted Now. I Thought About It A Couple Of Times, But The Opportunity Never Seemed To Present Itself. And Now It Never Will. Because We're Going To Be Thrown Into An Arena To Fight To The Death. Exactly How Am I Supposed To Work In A Thank-you In There? Somehow It Just Won't Seem Sincere If I'm Trying To Slit His Throat.

They Hadn’t Counted On The Highly Controlled Jabberjay Having The Brains To Adapt To The Wild, To Pass On Its Genetic Code, To Thrive In A New Form. They Hadn’t Anticipated Its Will To Live.

The Hatred I Feel For Him, For The Phantom Girl, For Everything, Is So Real And Immediate It Chokes Me. Gale Is Mine. I Am His. Anything Else Is Unthinkable. Why Did It Take Him Being Whipped Within An Inch Of His Life To See It?

What Happens When We Get Back? I Don't Know. I Guess We Try And Forget. I Don't Want To Forget.