My guess is that fearful events are the hardest to root out. They're the ones we naturally remember the best, after all.

It's the first gift that's always the hardest to pay back.

I send a silent thank-you to Dalton for suggesting I wash off the makeup. How ridiculous, how perverse I would feel presenting that painted Capitol mask to these people. The damage, the fatigue, the imperfections. That's how they recognize me, why I belong to them.

But the words are easy and soothing, promising tomorrow will be more hopeful than this awful piece o time we call today.

Even in war there should be lines you didn't cross.

Not daring to flee since my general location has just been broadcast to any killer who cares. I mean, I know it's cold out here and not everybody has a sleeping bag.

But between the images, we are privy to the real-life action being played out on the set. Peeta's attempt to continue speaking. The camera knocked down to record the white tiled floor. The scuffle of boots. The impact of the blow that's inseparable from Peeta's cry of pain. And his blood as it splatters the tiles.