Sometimes things happen to people and they're not equipped to deal with them.

Winning means fame and fortune. Losing means certain death. The Hunger Games have begun.

I'm on a frosting sailboat, tossed around by blue-green waves, the deck shifting beneath my feet.

My words hang in the air. I look to the screen, hoping to see them recording some wave of reconciliation going through the crowd. Instead I watch myself get shot on television.

I wish she was dead,' he says. 'I wish they were all dead and we were, too. It would be best.

Still, I hate them. But, of course, I hate almost everybody now. Myself more than anyone.

It means we're on your side." That's what Bonnie said. I have people on my side? What side? Am I unwittingly the face of the hoped-for rebellion? Has the mockingjay on my pin become a symbol of resistance? If so, my side's not doing too well.