Because I Can't Handle The Nightmares. Not

Go To Sleep," He Says Softly. His Hand Brushes The Lose Strands Of My Hair Off My Forehead. Unlike The Staged Kisses And Caresses So Far, This Gesture Seems Natural And Comforting. I Don't Want Him To Stop And He Doesn't. He's Still Stroking My Hair When I Fall Asleep.

So That Day, In Music Assembly, The Teacher Asked Who Knew The Valley Song. Your Hand Shot Right Up In The Air. She Stood You Up On A Stool And Had You Sing It For Us. And I Swear, Every Bird Outside The Windows Fell Silent...and Right When Your Song Ended, I Knew - Just Like Your Mother - I Was A Goner.

Oh, Peeta, Don't Make Me Sorry I Restarted Your Heart.

The Air's Warm With Hopeful Hints Of Spring In It. Spring Would Be A Good Time For An Uprising, I Think. Everyone Feels Less Vulnerable Once Winter Passes.

Let Them Go, I Tell Myself. Say Good-bye And Forget Them. I Do My Best, Thinking Of Them One By One, Releasing Them Like Birds From The Protective Cages Inside Me, Locking The Doors Against Their Return.