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I’ve listened to him rant about how the tesserae are just another tool to cause misery in our district. A way to plant hatred between the starving workers of the Seam and those who can generally count on supper and thereby ensure we will never trust one another. “It’s to the Capitol’s advantage to have us divided among ourselves,” he might say if there were no ears to hear but mine.
I let him yell though. Better he does it in the woods than in the district.
Whatever words they use, the real message is clear. “Look how we take your children and sacrifice them and there’s nothing you can do. If you lift a finger, we will destroy every last one of you. Just as we did in District Thirteen.”
The odds had been entirely in her favor. But it hadn’t mattered.
So instead of acknowledging applause, I stand there unmoving while they take part in the boldest form of dissent they can manage. Silence.
What I did was the radical thing.
It didn’t occur to me until the next morning that the boy might have burned the bread on purpose.
Maybe tributes have tried to escape in the past.
That part about her being ill might be true. I’ve seen her bring back people suffering from immobilizing sadness since. Perhaps it is a sickness, but it’s one we can’t afford.
“Promise you’ll wear it into the arena, Katniss?” she asks. “Promise?”
Was maysilee in her mind all this time
It’s hard to hate my prep team. They’re such total idiots.
What must it be like, I wonder, to live in a world where food appears at the press of a button?
What do they do all day, these people in the Capitol, besides decorating their bodies and waiting around for a new shipment of tributes to roll in and die for their entertainment?
Haymitch had called the Avoxes traitors. Against what? It could only be the Capitol. But they had everything here. No cause to rebel.
That I let the Capitol kill the boy and mutilate her without lifting a finger. Just like I was watching the Games.
They do surgery in the Capitol, to make people appear younger and thinner. In District 12, looking old is something of an achievement since so many people die early.
This is what I mean about Caesar. He tries to help you out.
“No, your reaction was perfect. If you’d known, it wouldn’t have read as real,” says Portia.
Star-crossed lovers. Haymitch is right, they eat that stuff up in the Capitol. Suddenly I’m worried that I didn’t react properly.
Kind of like how this book was marketerd as a teen dystopoan romamce
That I’m more than just a piece in their Games,” says Peeta. “But you’re not,” I say. “None of us are. That’s how the Games work.” “Okay, but within that framework, there’s still you, there’s still me,” he insists. “Don’t you see?” “A little. Only . . . no offense, but who cares, Peeta?” I say. “I do. I mean, what else am I allowed to care about at this point?” he asks angrily.
but cannibalism doesn’t play well with the Capitol audience,
The arenas are historic sites, preserved after the Games. Popular destinations for Capitol residents to visit, to vacation. Go for a month, rewatch the Games, tour the catacombs, visit the sites where the deaths took place. You can even take part in reenactments. They say the food is excellent.
The audience in the Capitol will be getting bored, claiming that these Games are verging on dullness. This is the one thing the Games must not do.
My mother says healers are born, not made.
ugh, the names the people in District 1 give their children are so ridiculous
“They feed us a bit extra during harvest, so that people can keep going longer,” says Rue.
I wonder if the Gamemakers are blocking out our conversation, because even though the information seems harmless, they don’t want people in different districts to know about one another.
That the Careers have been better fed growing up is actually to their disadvantage, because they don’t know how to be hungry.
I’m perplexed by her amusement until I realize that with the Careers’ stores eliminated, she might actually stand a chance. Just like the rest of us.
It’s the Capitol I hate, for doing this to all of us.
This bread came from District 11.
His eyes widen as he realizes the truth. I clamp my hand over his mouth and nose hard, forcing him to swallow instead of spit. He tries to make himself vomit the stuff up, but it’s too late, he’s already losing consciousness. Even as he fades away, I can see in his eyes what I’ve done is unforgivable.
Movie is different i think
And Gale. I know him. He won’t be shouting and cheering. But he’ll be watching, every moment, every twist and turn, and willing me to come home.
I imagine the teary sighs emanating from the Capitol and pretend to brush away a tear of my own.
Thresh and both large backpacks are vanishing over the edge of the plain into the area I’ve never seen.
“Yes. I don’t expect you to understand it. You’ve always had enough. But if you’d lived in the Seam, I wouldn’t have to explain,” I say.
“I’ll kill and you cook,” I say. “And you can always gather.”
Gender roles swap
It’s not that Peeta’s soft exactly, and he’s proved he’s not a coward. But there are things you don’t question too much, I guess, when your home always smells like baking bread, whereas Gale questions everything. What would Peeta think of the irreverent banter that passes between us as we break the law each day? Would it shock him? The things we say about Panem? Gale’s tirades against the Capitol?
To say my thoughts aloud would be tipping off the audience that the romance has been fabricated to play on their sympathies and that would result in no food at all.
‘See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner,’”
From town, burdock
‘Because when he sings . . . even the birds stop to listen.’”
Covey
A silver parachute attached to a basket.
Play the gamw
Maybe he wasn’t always a drunk. Maybe, in the beginning, he tried to help the tributes.
“What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta,
Ideally, I’d dump Peeta now with some simple root-gathering chore and go hunt,
how she tried to take enough to stay alive but not enough that anyone would notice it,
My guess is if they had given us some sort of test, she would have been the smartest of all the tributes.
I’ve spent so much time making sure I don’t underestimate my opponents that I’ve forgotten it’s just as dangerous to overestimate them as well.
Where they’re guaranteed a bloody fight to the death with nothing to block their view.
They never intended to let us both live. This has all been devised by the Gamemakers to guarantee the most dramatic showdown in history. And like a fool, I bought into it.
