Голодные игры

           Thatwouldgivemesomethingtoclingtointhesurrealworldofthearenawheretheauthenticityofeverythingistobedoubted.

           Fourofusleft.

           Forthefirsttime,IallowmyselftotrulythinkaboutthepossibilitythatImightmakeithome.Tofame.Towealth.TomyownhouseintheVictor’sVillage.MymotherandPrimwouldlivetherewithme.Nomorefearofhunger.Anewkindoffreedom.Butthen.what?Whatwouldmylifebelikeonadailybasis?Mostofithasbeenconsumedwiththeacquisitionoffood.TakethatawayandI’mnotreallysurewhoIam,whatmyidentityis.Theideascaresmesome.IthinkofHaymitch,withallhismoney.Whatdidhislifebecome?Helivesalone,nowifeorchildren,mostofhiswakinghoursdrunk.Idon’twanttoenduplikethat.

           "Butyouwon’tbealone,"Iwhispertomyself.IhavemymotherandPrim.Well,forthetimebeing.Andthen.Idon’twanttothinkaboutthen,whenPrimhasgrownup,mymotherpassedaway.IknowI’llnevermarry,neverriskbringingachildintotheworld.Becauseifthere’sonethingbeingavictordoesn’tguarantee,it’syourchildren’ssafety.Mykids’nameswouldgorightintothereapingballswitheveryoneelse’s.AndIswearI’llneverletthathappen.

           Thesuneventuallyrises,itslightslippingthroughthecracksandilluminatingPeeta’sface.