The Hunger Games Trilogy

by Suzanne Collins

I stare at the paper slips in the girls’ ball. Twenty of them have Katniss Everdeen written on them in careful handwriting.

Effie Trinket crosses back to the podium, smoothes the slip of paper, and reads out the name in a clear voice. And it’s not me. It’s Primrose Everdeen.

One slip. One slip in thousands. The odds had been entirely in her favor. But it hadn’t mattered.

To this day, I can never shake the connection between this boy, Peeta Mellark, and the bread that gave me hope, and the dandelion that reminded me that I was not doomed.

No one will forget me. Not my look, not my name. Katniss. The girl who was on fire.

I need sleep desperately because in the arena every moment I give in to fatigue will be an invitation to death.

“And remember this. I’m not allowed to bet, but if I could, my money would be on you.” “Truly?” I whisper. “Truly,” says Cinna. He leans down and kisses me on the forehead. “Good luck, girl on fire.”

Katniss Everdeen, the girl who was on fire, you have provided a spark that, left unattended, may grow to an inferno that destroys Panem,”

Because sometimes things happen to people and they’re not equipped to deal with them.

I know Haymitch will be up for hours. He doesn’t like to sleep when it’s dark out.

You and Peeta, you’ll be mentors now, every year from here on out. And every year they’ll revisit the romance and broadcast the details of your private life, and you’ll never, ever be able to do anything but live happily ever after with that boy.”

He means there’s only one future, if I want to keep those I love alive and stay alive myself. I’ll have to marry Peeta.

I hadn’t thought about it much, but in the arena at least some of the boys got to keep their body hair whereas none of the girls did.

I’ve never seen anything like it, but I can only be witnessing one thing. This is what President Snow calls an uprising.

I wish that Peeta were here to hold me, until I remember I’m not supposed to wish that anymore. I have chosen Gale and the rebellion, and a future with Peeta is the Capitol’s design, not mine.

The reporter has simply been incorporated into the old footage. She’s not in District 13 at all. Which begs the question, What is?

I can only form one clear thought. This is no place for a girl on fire.

There was a plan to break us out of the arena from the moment the Quell was announced. The victor tributes from 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, and 11 had varying degrees of knowledge about it. Plutarch Heavensbee has been, for several years, part of an undercover group aiming to overthrow the Capitol. He made sure the wire was among the weapons. Beetee was in charge of blowing a hole in the force field. The bread we received in the arena was code for the time of the rescue. The district where the bread originated indicated the day. Three. The number of rolls the hour. Twenty-four. The hovercraft belongs to District 13.

“We had to save you because you’re the mockingjay, Katniss,” says Plutarch. “While you live, the revolution lives.”

Gale is not one to keep secrets from me. “Katniss, there is no District Twelve.”