Finnick?" I say, "Maybe some pants?" He looks down at his legs as if noticing his outfit for the first time. Then he whips off his hospital gown leaving him in just his underwear. "Why? Do you find this" -- he strikes a ridiculously provocative pose -- "distracting?" I laugh. Boggs looks embarrassed and Finnick looks more like the guy I met at the Quarter Quell

I pound on the glass, screaming my head off. Everyone ignores me except for some Capitol attendant who appears behind me and offers me a beverage.

They can't hurt me. I'm not like the rest of you. There's no one left I love.

My mother just wanted me to forget it. So, of course, every word was immediately, irrevocably branded into my brain.

You love me. Real or not real?" I tell him, "Real.

I think....you still have no idea. The effect you can have.

What? My head doctor says I'm not supposed to censor my thoughts. It's part of my therapy.