Closing my eyes doesn't help. Fire burns brighter in the darkness.

I don't want to cry. Everyone will make note of my tears and I'll be marked as an easy target. A weakling. I will give no one that satisfaction.

I don't like self-righteous people," I say. "What's to like?" says Haymitch, who begins sucking the dregs out of the empty bottles.

An ability to look into the confusing mess of life and see things for what they are.

So I learned to hold my tongue and to turn my features into an indifferent mask so that no one could ever read my thoughts.

The sensation inside me grows warmer and spreads out from my chest down through my body out along my arms and legs to the tips of my being. Instead of satisfying me the kisses have the opposite effect of making my need greater.

When I was young I was trained in stage fighting and rapier and dagger, for several years.