My little sister, Prim, curled up on her side, cocooned in my motherโs body, their cheeks pressed together. In sleep, my mother looks younger, still worn but not so beaten-down. Primโs face is as fresh as a raindrop, as lovely as the primrose for which she was named. My mother was very beautiful once, too. Or so they tell me.
Suzanne CollinsFine. I'll train. But I'm going to the stinking capitol if I have to kill a crew and fly there myself." Says Johanna. "Probably best not to bring that up in training," I say. "But it's nice to know I'll have a ride.
Suzanne CollinsWhen I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. My fingers stretch out, seeking Prim`s warmth but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress. She must have had bad dreams and climbed in with our mother. Of course, she did. This is the day of the Reaping.
Suzanne CollinsAnd then it happens. Up and down the row, the victors begin to join hands. Some right away, like the morphlings, or Wiress and Beetee. Others unsure but caught up in the demands of those around them, like Brutus and Enobaria. By the time the anthem plays its final strains, all twenty-four of us stand in one unbroken line in what must be the first public show of unity among the districts since the Dark Days. You can see the realization of this as the screens begin to pop into blackness. It's too late, though. In the confusion they didn't cut us off in time. Everyone has seen.
Suzanne Collins