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I go back to my room and lie under the covers, trying not to think of Gale and thinking of nothing else.
Suzanne Collins
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Suzanne Collins
Age: 62
Born: 1962
Born: August 10
Executive Producer
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
Writer
Hartford
Connecticut
Suzanne Marie Collins
Suzanne Collins
Back
Nothing
Trying
Gale
Think
Covers
Thinking
Room
Rooms
Lying
Else
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Yeah, we wouldn't want to lose our little Mockingjay when she's finally begun to sing.
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Positioned on my dresser, that white-as-snow rose is a personal message to me. It speaks of unfinished business. It whispers, I can find you. I can reach you. Perhaps I am watching you now.
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No more fear of hunger. A new kind of freedom. But what then ... what? What would my life be like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I'm not really sure who I am, what my identity is. The idea scares me some.
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I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me.
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maybe it's that we are all so starved for something good to happen that we want to be a part of it.
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The heat of the bread burned into my skin, but I clutched it tighter, clinging to life.
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Just the sound of his voice twists my stomach into a knot of unpleasant emotions like guilt, sadness and fear. And longing. I might as well admit there’s some of that too.
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aren't they the very reason I have to try to fight? Because what has been done to them is so wrong, so beyond justification, so evil that there is no choice? Because no one has the right to treat them as they have been treated?
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Peeta rinses the pearl off in the water and hands it to me. “For you.” I hold it out on my palm and examine its iridescent surface in the sunlight. Yes, I will keep it. For the few remaining hours of my life I will keep it close. This last gift from Peeta. The only one I can really accept. Perhaps it will give me strength in the final moments.
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But in my head I can hear Haymitch's smug, if slightly exasperated, words: Yes, that's what I'm looking for, sweetheart.
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Tomorrow's a hunting day, I say. I won't be much of a help with that, Peeta says. I've never hunted before. I'll kill and you cook, I say. And you can always gather. I wish there was some sort of bread bush out there, says Peeta.
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I killed you. And you. And you.
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Then I get it, what it means. At least, for me. District 12 only has three existing victors to choose from. Two male. One female... I am going back into the arena.
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We sit in silence awhile then I blurt out the thing that's on both our minds. How are we going to kill these people, Peeta?
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Because it doesn't matter anymore, and because I'm so desperately lonely I can't stand it.
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I’ve stopped talking because there’s really nothing left to say and there’s this piercing sort of pain where my heart is. Maybe I’m even having a heart attack, but it doesn’t seem worth mentioning.
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That what? That I knew i misjudged you. That you love him. I'm not saying In what way. Maybe you don't know yourself. But anyone paying attention could see how much you care about him, he says gently.
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I must have loved you a lot.
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A hysterical young woman with flowing brown hair is also called from 4, but she's quickly replaced by a volunteer, an eighty-year-old woman who needs a cane to walk to the stage.
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But Gale is not one to keep secrets from me. Katniss, there is no District Twelve.
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