You're Not Afraid I'll Kill You Tonight?"

And While I Was Talking, The Idea Of Actually Losing Peeta Hit Me Again And I Realized How Much I Don't Want Him To Die. And It's Not About The Sponsors. And It's Not About What Will Happen When We Get Home. And It's Not Just That I Don't Want To Be Alone. It's Him. I Do Not Want To Lose The Boy With The Bread.

No More Kisses For You, Until You Have Eaten !

One More Time? For The Audience?" He Says. His Voice Isn't Angry. It's Hollow, Which Is Worse. Already The Boy With The Bread Is Slipping Away From Me. I Take His Hand, Holding On Tightly, Preparing For The Cameras, And Dreading The Moment When I Will Finally Have To Let Go.

Where Did They Get Those Screams, Katniss?

It's There. The White Rose Among The Dried Flowers In The Vase. Shriveled And Fragile, But Holding On To That Unnatural Perfection Cultivated In Snows Greenhouse. I Grab The Vase, Stumble Down To The Kitchen, And Throw Its Contents Into The Embers. As The Flowers Flare Up, A Burst Of Blue Flame Envelops The Rose And Devours It. Fire Beats Roses Again.