So instead of acknowledging applause, I stand there unmoving while they take part in the boldest form of dissent they can manage. Silence. Which says we do not agree. We do not condone. All of this is wrong.

While I was waiting...I ate your lunch.

I’m in a shallow hole, not filled with the humming orange bubbles of my hallucination but with old, dead leaves.

Katniss, there is no District Twelve.

How much energy they put into harming each other. How little into saving.

Greeting to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed," he says. "Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor.

Just the perfect touch of rebellion," says Haymitch "Very nice." Rebellion?