I Pound On The Glass, Screaming My

I Can't Help Comparing What I Have With Gale To What I'm Pretending To Have With Peeta. How I Never Question Gale's Motives While I Do Nothing But Doubt The Latter's. It's Not A Fair Comparison Really. Gale And I Were Thrown Together By A Mutual Need To Survive. Peeta And I Know The Other's Survival Means Our Own Death. How Do You Sidestep That?

And Here I Am, Strapped Into A Tree, A Stone's Throw From The Biggest Idiot In The Games.

I Guess There Isn’t A Rule Book For What Might Be Unacceptable To Do To Another Human Being.

So, Here’s What You Do. You Win, You Go Home. She Can’t Turn You Down Then, Eh?” Says Caesar Encouragingly. “i Don’t Think It’s Going To Work Out. Winning…won’t Help In My Case,” Says Peeta. “why Ever Not?” Says Caesar, Mystified. Peeta Blushes Beet Red And Stammers Out. “because…because…she Came Here With Me.

No One Really Needs Me," He Says, And There Is No Self-pity In His Voice. It's True His Family Doesn't Need Him. They Will Mourn Him, As Will A Handful Of Friends. But They Will Get On. Even Haymitch, With The Help Of A Lot Of White Liquor, Will Get On. I Realize Only One Person Will Be Damaged Beyond Repair If Peeta Dies. Me. "i Do," I Say. "i Need You.