Sunrise on the Reaping (The Hunger Games)

by Suzanne Collins

So where will you go, little girl? Back to 11? Into Capitol soil? Or will they incinerate your body and leave no trace of you behind? Either way, mine will be the last touch of someone who cares about you.

on my lap, take a deep breath — right now it could hold anything!

When I hook Wyatt’s token around my neck, it’s like having both him and Maysilee with me.

Looking at him, I can’t help thinking that all the little ones seem to end up with me. Louella. Lou Lou. Ampert. I can’t keep a one of them safe. Why do they flock to me?

“Where there’s life, there’s hope.”

If I make it out of the Games without killing anybody, that will be a victory in itself.

Maybe Lenore Dove’s right, and I will meet up with them, and one day with her, in another world. Or maybe there’s just nothing, in which case, it won’t hurt any.

There is no one to comfort, to ease out of this world. Ampert’s been swallowed up by the Capitol, and his coffin will hold only these pearly white bones.

Somewhere, Beetee’s heart breaks into fragments so small it can never be repaired.

Who do I think I am? Why did I think I could change anything? That I could take on the Capitol, with all its might, and bring the Hunger Games to a standstill? Me, a sixteen-year-old kid from the trashiest district in Panem

Will I be her lost one for evermore? Will she be haunted by me for the rest of her life?

Instead of giving up, maybe I’ll see if I can’t be of some tiny use to someone else.

What do you say to the meanest girl in town who’s become your friend? No, more than a friend, really. A Newcomer. Being tributes and not killing each other . . . looking out for each other with no questions asked . . . that’s family, I guess.

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.”

“Ampert told me about Wyatt.” “He was trying to shield her. When he died, she ran away. I tried to follow her, but I lost her at the mountain.”

“I keep wondering, will Merrilee still be a twin, after I’m gone?”

We never really recover, just move on the best we can.

“One of us has to be the worst victor in history. Tear up their scripts, tear down their celebrations, set fire to the Victor’s Village. Refuse to play their game.” Reminds me of Pa. “Make sure they don’t use our blood to paint their posters?” “Exactly. We’ll paint our own posters. And I know just where we can get the paint.”

“You’re supposed to be my ally! Not her! Not that fish-eating, bootlicking, wished-she-could-pull-off-pin-curls piece of trash! You are!”

“Maybe you should be the victor, Haymitch. That would give you some time to grow a backbone.”

“No one ever loved me more. I always hoped I’d look like her one day. Never going to see myself grow old, I guess.” “Maybe.” “Oh, no. Not after today.”

The absurdity of it all, the Games, the two failed arena plots, life in general, overwhelms me.

I just stare into those burning blue eyes, letting her know she’s not dying alone. She’s with family. She’s with me.

I nod so she knows I understand and that I will try my best to bring the Capitol down, although I have never felt so powerless in my entire life.

She hasn’t begged or pleaded; she retained her fury and defiance. Although for me, a person’s desperation at the end is not a measure of their life, I know it mattered to her. Maysilee leaves the world the way she wanted, wounded but not bowed.

Good-bye, Maysilee Donner, who I loathed, then grudgingly respected, then loved. Not as a sweetheart or even a friend. A sister, I’d said.

A sister is someone you fight with and fight for. Tooth and nail.

Mags and I tried not to laugh, because Proserpina wasn’t born evil; she just had a lot of unlearning to do.

I pick up the spoon and take a bite. Tears come, and I let them fall, unchecked, while I empty the basin. It’s okay to cry around Mags.

Is that what my final hours should be devoted to? Guarding Wellie from Silka and the Gamemakers’ mutts? Making sure that crown winds up on her head, not a Career’s? Yes, I’m certain this is what Maysilee would’ve wanted me to do, if she’d known the whole story.

we’ve all of us got enough dead kids to mourn for a lifetime.

the last trio of human heartbeats in the arena. Sad, desperate, but also a rare moment of district unity in the Games.

No doubt I am, from where she sits, the great abandoner of the Newcomers. She’s not wrong.

“What did she mean? A good victor?” Great question. “It means, I think, that you never stop being a Newcomer.”

I am completely in Snow’s power and his to manipulate. His puppet. His pawn. His plaything. It is his poster I am painting. His propaganda. I am trapped into doing his bidding in the Hunger Games, the best propaganda the Capitol has. My pa must be rolling in his grave.

I could live ten thousand years and never erase this sight from my memory.

Blinded by my desire to paint my poster, I left the real treasure unattended.

“We all have people,” I say. “You think yours will ever be able to forget this? I know mine won’t.”

We’re neither of us going home. I will kill her, and Snow will kill me. These Games will have no victor. The second Quarter Quell poster.

This time it works, Ampert. Loose cannon going off, Louella. Wyatt. Lou Lou. Wellie. I pinkie swear, Maysilee. Pay attention, Panem. Newcomers land on top.

What did she do to be erased so completely?

Oh, Lenore Dove, what have I done to you? How will you pay for my surviving the Hunger Games?

“I won’t hurt you,” I mutter. “I know that,” she says. “I’ve known who you are ever since you helped with my makeup box. And I know your position could not have been easy.” It’s surprisingly touching. “Thanks, Effie.”

Very bad things have been done to them.

In this doubling of reparations, we remember that true strength lies not in numbers, but in righteousness.”

The rascal’s just a jackass.

Wyatt dies a selfless hero protecting a bewildered Lou Lou, who manages to scamper off unscathed. Maysilee fights, then follows Lou Lou to protect her.

Well, the symbolism has been lost on no one. Even the little kids in the Seam know the Capitol powers are watching us. I wonder if they ever consider that we’re watching them, too.

The shame of this is not the sort of thing a person can live down.

No greater suck-up exists in the history of the Games. No humiliation is beneath me. I will bear anything to keep my loved ones alive.