Then I get it, what it means. At least, for me. District 12 only has three existing victors to choose from. Two male. One female... I am going back into the arena.

You're hideous, you know that, right?

No, you won her over. Gave up everything for her. Maybe that's the only way to convince her you love her.

Want a sugar cube?" he asks in his old seductive voice. That's how we met, with Finnick offering me sugar. Surrounded by horses and chariots, costumed and painted for the crowds, before we were allies. Before I had any idea what made him tick. The memory actually coaxes a smile out of me. "Here, it improves the taste," he says in his real voice, plunking three cubes into my cup.

They can't hurt me. I'm not like the rest of you. There's no one left I love.

Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor.

They can fatten me up. They can give me a full body polish, dress me up, and make me beautiful again. They can design dream weapons that come to life in my hands, but they will never again brainwash me into the necessity of using them. I no longer feel allegiance to these monsters called human beings, despite being one myself.