Sunrise on the Reaping (The Hunger Games)

by Suzanne Collins

And so I remain, forever trapped in my chamber. I am so desperate to forget. To escape the grief, the aching loneliness, the loss of those I love. There are no mementos of them; all are burned or buried. I work on forgetting their voices, their faces, their laughs. Even in my head, my language becomes dull and flat, stripped of the color and music of yesterday.

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