“No one really needs me,” he says, and there’s no self pity in his voice. It’s true his family doesn’t need him. They will mourn him, as will a handful of friends. But they will get on. I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me.
“I do,” I say. “I need you.”
Nobody decent ever wins the games.
Nobody ever wins the games. Period. There are survivors. There’s no winners.
Katniss Everdeen, the girl who was on fire, you have provided a spark, that left unattended, may grow into an inferno that destroys Panem.
At some point, you have to stop running and turn around and face whoever wants you dead. The hard thing is finding the courage to do it.
Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to show the Capitol they don’t own me. That I’m more than just a piece in their Games.