I just...I just miss him. And I hate being so alone.

I drink in his wholeness, the soudness of his body and mind. It runs through me like the morphling they give me in the hospital, dulling the pain of the last weeks.

I can’t fight the sun. I can only watch helplessly as it drags me into a day that I’ve been dreading for months. Katniss Everdeen

Ladies and gentlemen....." His voice is quiet, but mine rings through the room. "Let the Seventy-sixth Hunger Games begin!

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

I'm sick of people lying to me for my own good. Because really it's mostly for their own good.

What does this mean? It means I get to spend the morning having the hair ripped off my body while Peeta sleeps in.