All I can think of is the emaciated bodies of children on our kitchen table as my mother prescribes what the parent's can't give. More food.

It's to the Capitol's advantage to have us divided among ourselves. Another tool to cause misery in our district. A way to plant hatred between the starving workers [of the Seam] and those who can generally count on supper and thereby ensure we will never trust one another.

Hope is the only thing stronger than fear.

That's when I hear the scream. So full of fear and pain it ices my blood. And so familiar. I drop the spile, forget where I am or what lies ahead, only know I must reach her, protect her. I run wildly in the direction of the voice, heedless of danger, ripping through vines and branches, through anything that keeps me from reaching her. From reaching my little sister.

As coal pressured into pearls by our weighty existence. Beauty that arose out of pain.

Cato kneels beside Clove, spear in hand, begging her to stay with him. In a moment, he will realize it's futile, she can't be saved.

So it's you and a syringe against the Capitol? See, this is why no one lets you make the plans.