I just don’t want them to change me. Turn me into something I’m not. I-I-I just don’t want to be another piece in their game, you know?
I just keep wishing I could think of a way to show them that they don’t own me. You know, if I’m gonna die, I wanna still be me.
My children, who don’t know they play on a graveyard.
Peeta says it will be okay. We have each other. And the book. We can make them understand in a way that will make them braver. But one day I’ll have to explain about my nightmares. Why they came. Why they won’t ever really go away.
I’ll tell them how I survive it. I’ll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I’m afraid it could be taken away. That’s when I make a list in my head of every act of goodness I’ve seen someone do. It’s like a game. Repetitive. Even a little tedious after more than twenty years.
↳ THE HUNGER GAMES; Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta. [7/8]
“ And suddenly, it’s as if there’s no one in the world but these two, crashing through space to reach each other. They collide, enfold, lose their balance, and slam against a wall, where they stay. Clinging into one being. Indivisible. A pang of jealousy hits me. Not for either Finnick or Annie but for their certainty. No one seeing them could doubt their love. ”