The morphlings from District 6 are in the camouflage station, painting each other's faces with bright pink swirls.

But because two can play at this game, I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. Right on his bruise.

It's not easy to find a topic. Talking of home is painful. Talking of the present unbearable.

You haven't hurt people—you've given them an opportunity. They just have to be brave enough to take it.

We each get fifteen minutes before the Gamemakers to amaze them with our skills, but I don't know what any of us might have to show them. There's a lot of kidding about it at lunch. What we might do. Sing, dance, strip, tell jokes. Mags, who i can understand a little better now, decides she's just going to take a nap.

Look how we take your children and sacrifice them and there’s nothing you can do. If you lift a finger, we will destroy every last one of you. Just as we did in District Thirteen.

I swing my arms to loosen myself up. Place my fists on my hips. then drop them to my sides. Saliva's filling my mouth at a ridiculous rate and i feel vomit at the back of my throat. I swallow hard and open my lips so I can get the stupid line out and go hide in the woods and-that's when i start crying.