There's Plenty Of Blame To Go Around.

No One Really Needs Me," He Says, And There Is No Self-pity In His Voice. It's True His Family Doesn't Need Him. They Will Mourn Him, As Will A Handful Of Friends. But They Will Get On. Even Haymitch, With The Help Of A Lot Of White Liquor, Will Get On. I Realize Only One Person Will Be Damaged Beyond Repair If Peeta Dies. Me. "i Do," I Say. "i Need You.

I Think About Going To The Lake, But I'm So Weak That I Barely Make It To My Meeting Place With Gale. I Sit On The Rock Where Cressida Filmed Us, But It's Too Wide Without His Body Beside Me. Several Times I Close My Eyes And Count To Ten, Thinking That When I Open Them, He Will Have Materialized Without A Sound As He So Often Did. I Have To Remind Myself That Gale's In 2 With A Fancy Job, Probably Kissing Another Pair Of Lips.

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

Do You Really Know What's Going On And If You Don't... Find Out

But It's Posy, Gale's Five-year-old Sister, Who Helps The Most. She Scoots Along The Bench To Octavia And Touches Her Skin With A Tentative Finger. “you're Green. Are You Sick?” “it's A Fashion Thing, Posy. Like Wearing Lipstick,” I Say. “it's Meant To Be Pretty,” Whispers Octavia, And I Can See The Tears Threatening To Spill Over Her Lashes. Posy Considers This And Says Matter-of-factly, “i Think You'd Be Pretty In Any Color.