The More You Can Distract Yourself, The

I Search His Eyes For The Slightest Sign Of Anything, Fear, Remorse, Anger. But There's Only The Same Look Of Amusement That Ended Our Last Conversation. It's As If He's Speaking The Words Again. "oh, My Dear Miss Everdeen. I Thought We Had Agreed Not To Lie To Each Other." He's Right. We Did. The Point Of My Arrow Shifts Upward. I Release The String. And President Coin Collapses Over The Side Of The Balcony And Plunges To The Ground. Dead.

Keep Calm And Have A Sugar Cube

Plutarch Rushes To Reassure Me. "oh, No, Katniss. Not Your Wedding. Finnick And Annie's. All You Need To Do Is Show Up And Pretend To Be Happy For Them." "that's One Of The Few Things I Won't Have To Pretend, Plutarch," I Tell Him.

All Around The Dining Hall, You Can Feel The Rejuvenating Effect That A Good Meal Can Bring On. The Way It Can Make People Kinder, Funnier, More Optimistic, And Remind Them It's Not A Mistake To Go On Living. It's Better Than Any Medicine.

Frankly, I Could Use A Little Sugarcoating.