Sunrise on the Reaping (The Hunger Games, #0.5)

by Suzanne Collins

No way to control the outcome of the reaping or what follows it. So don’t feed the nightmares. Don’t let yourself panic. Don’t give the Capitol that. They’ve taken enough already.

we all know there are eyes everywhere. And eyes generally come with a pair of ears.

“And that’s part of our trouble. Thinking things are inevitable. Not believing change is possible.”

They will not use our tears for their entertainment.

You are on a high horse, mister. And someday someone will knock you off it straight into your grave.

“I know but . . . what I’m thinking . . . you and me . . . You remember what Ampert said when you made his token?” There’s a long pause before she says, “Sure. I’ll be your sister.” Our hands reach out at the same time, clasp, and then release. “’Night, Sis.” I roll over and let sleep take me.

“No, Haymitch, we need someone exactly like you.” “Just luckier?” I say. “Luckier, or with better timing. Having an army at their back wouldn’t hurt.”

Sounds like Katniss