If there's a more helpless feeling than trying to reach someone you love who's trapped underground, I don't know it.

Not daring to flee since my general location has just been broadcast to any killer who cares. I mean, I know it's cold out here and not everybody has a sleeping bag.

Please feel free to take this personally.

My guess is that fearful events are the hardest to root out. They're the ones we naturally remember the best, after all.

It'd be better if he were easier to hate.

You're alive," I whisper, pressing my palms against my cheeks, feeling the smile that's so wide it must look like a grimace. Peeta's alive.

Most rats read. Our frustration is, we cannot hold a pen to write.