Embrace the probability of your imminent death....and know there is nothing i can do to save you.

The sun persists in rising, so I make myself stand

No one really needs me,” he says, and there's no self-pity in his voice...“I do,” I say. “I need you.” He looks upset, takes a deep breath as if to begin a long argument, and that's no good, no good at all, because he'll start going on about Prim and my mother and everything and I'll just get confused. So before he can talk, I stop his lips with a kiss.

I knew you'd kiss me." "How?" I say. Because I didn't know myself. "Because I am in pain," He say's. "That's the only way I get your attention.

Slowly, with many lost days, I come back to life.

Only I keep wishing I could think of a way...to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games.

Peeta, how come I never know when you're having a nightmare?” I say. “I don't know. I don't think I cry out or thrash around or anything. I just come to, paralyzed with terror,” he says. “You should wake me,” I say, thinking about how I can interrupt his sleep two or three times on a bad night. About how long it can take to calm me down. “It's not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you,” he says. “I'm okay once I realize you're here.