My Sleep Wasn't Peaceful, Though. I Have

But I Don't Know What To Him About The Aftermath Of Killing A Person. About How They Never Leave You.

I Wish Peeta Were Here To Hold Me, Until I Remember I'm Not Supposed To Wish That Anymore. I Have Chosen Gale And The Rebellion, And A Future With Peeta Is The Capitol's Design, Not Mine.

This Is What Birds See. Only They're Free And Safe. The Very Opposite Of Me.

Most Rats Read. Our Frustration Is, We Cannot Hold A Pen To Write.

To The Everlasting Credit Of The People Of District 12, Not One Person Claps. Not Even The Ones Holding Betting Slips, The Ones Who Are Usually Beyond Caring. Possibly Because They Know Me From The Hob, Or Knew My Father, Or Have Encountered Prim, Who No One Could Help Loving. So Instead Of Acknowledging Applause, I Stand There Unmoving While They Take Part In The Boldest Form Of Dissent They Can Manage. Silence. Which Says We Do Not Agree. We Do Not Condone. All Of This Is Wrong.