I raise my left arm and twist my neck down to rip off the pill on my sleeve. Instead my teeth sink into flesh. I yank my head back in confusion to find myself looking into Peeta’s eyes, only now they hold my gaze. Blood runs from the teeth marks on the hand he clamped over my nightlock. “Let me go!” I snarl at him, trying to wrest my arm from his grasp. “I can’t,” he says.

because I have learned the hard way how deadly these beauties can be.

Birds are settling down for the night, singing lullabies to their young.

Because when he sings...even the birds stop to listen.

Despite what I feel for Peeta, this is when I accept deep down that he'll never come back to me. Or i'll never go back to him. I'll die for my trouble. And he'll die insane and hating me.

My words hang in the air. I look to the screen, hoping to see them recording some wave of reconciliation going through the crowd. Instead I watch myself get shot on television.

But once I saw Fulvia Cardew crumple up a sheet of paper with just a couple of words written on it and you would’ve thought she’d murdered someone from the looks she got.