And here I am, strapped into a tree, a stone's throw from the biggest idiot in the games.

Glimmer, I hear someone call her - ugh, the names the people in District 1 give their children are so ridiculous.

If I get home, I'll be so stinking rich, I'll be able to pay someone to do my hearing.

I vote yes....for Prim.

It's funny, because even though they're rattling on about the Games, it's all about where they were or what they were doing or how they felt when a specific event occurred. . . . Everything is about them, not the dying boys and girls in the arena

But I don't know what to him about the aftermath of killing a person. About how they never leave you.

Beetee is still messing round the tree, doing I don't know what. At one point he snaps off a sliver of bark, joins us, and throws it against the force field. It bounces back and lands on the ground, glowing. In a few moments it returns to its original color. "Well, that explains a lot," says Beetee. I look at Peeta and can't help biting my lip to keep from laughing since it explains absolutely nothing to anyone but Beetee.