Whenever I Write A Story, I Hope

Telling A Story In A Futuristic World Gives You This Freedom To Explore Things That Bother You In Contemporary Times.

"what's Going On Down There, Katniss? Have They All Joined Hands? Taken A Vow Of Nonviolence? Tossed The Weapons In The Sea In Defiance Of The Capitol?" Finnick Asks. "no," I Say. "no," Finnick Repeats. "because Whatever Happened In The Past Is In The Past. And No One In This Arena Was A Victor By Chance." He Eyes Peeta For A Moment. "except Maybe Peeta."

I Also Want To Tell Him How Much I Already Miss Him. But That Wouldn't Be Fair On My Part.

What Is The Worst Pain? To Me, It's Always The Pain That Is Present.

The Realization That I’d Have Nothing To Take Home Had Finally Sunk In. My Knees Buckled And I Slid Down The Tree Trunk To Its Roots. It Was Too Much. I Was Too Sick And Weak And Tired, Oh, So Tired. Let Them Call The Peacekeepers And Take Us To The Community Home, I Thought. Or Better Yet, Let Me Die Right Here In The Rain.