If You Are Not Trying To Hold

I'm Not Prepared For Rue's Family. Her Parents, Whose Faces Are Still Fresh With Sorrow. Her Fiver Younger Siblings, Who Resemble Her So Closely. The Slight Builds, The Luminous Brown Eyes. They Form A Flock Of Small Dark Birds.

I'm Unaware That My Feet Are Moving To The Table Until I'm Inches From The Holograph. My Hand Reaches In And Cups A Rapidly Blinking Green Light. Someone Joins Me, His Body Tense. Finnick, Of Course. Because Only A Victor Would See What I See So Immediately. The Arena. Laced With Pods Controlled By Gamemakers. Finnick's Fingers Caress A Steady Red Glow Over A Doorway. "ladies And Gentlemen..." His Voice Is Quiet, But Mine Rings Through The Room. "let The Seventy-sixth Hunger Games Begin!

So We Both Strip Off Our Boots And Socks And, While There’s Some Improvement, I Could Swear He’s Making An Effort To Snap Every Branch We Encounter

I Curl Up, Make Myself Smaller, Try To Disappear Entirely. Wrapped In Silence, I Slide My Bracelet That Reads 'mentally Disoriented' Around And Around My Wrist.

Want A Sugar Cube?" He Asks In His Old Seductive Voice.